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Dog Songs: Poetry Prompt & Playlist

By Heather Eure 63 Comments

We cannot imagine a world without dogs. Their joy-filled, loyal nature is the realization of the person we’d like to become.  Join in and sing (or howl) a few Dog Songs with us. Our Monday poetry prompt might encourage you to wag a little more, too.

To kick off our new poodles, dogs, and pups theme, we’ve put together a playlist that includes everything from a hund to a hound, to the artists Dogge Dog and The Bubble Puppy. And of course Cat Power had to weigh in with a werewolf somewhere near the French poodle and chien.

Little Dog’s Rhapsody in the Night

He puts his cheek against mine
and makes small, expressive sounds.
And when I’m awake, or awake enough

he turns upside down, his four paws
in the air
and his eyes dark and fervent.

“Tell me you love me, ” he says.

“Tell me again.”

Could there be a sweeter arrangement? Over and over
he gets to ask.
I get to tell.

—Mary Oliver, from Dog Songs: Poems

Poetry Prompt:

Write a poem that expresses the loving relationship between a dog and his owner.

Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here is a poem from Monica that tugged our heartstrings:

Breathe her in, savor
these newborn days as fleeting
as the baby’s breath
the flower is named for.
Carry her skin
to skin.
And don’t blink, they say.
True, but napping
is okay.

—by Monica Sharman

Photo by Greg Westfall. Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Heather Eure.

________________________

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Heather Eure
Heather Eure
Heather Eure has served as the Poetry Editor for the late Burnside Collective and Special Projects Editor for us at Tweetspeak Poetry. Her poems have appeared at Every Day Poems. Her wit has appeared just about everywhere she's ever showed up, and if you're lucky you were there to hear it.
Heather Eure
Latest posts by Heather Eure (see all)
  • Poetry Prompt: Misunderstood Lion - March 19, 2018
  • Animate: Lions & Lambs Poetry Prompt - March 12, 2018
  • Poetry Prompt: Behind the Velvet Rope - February 26, 2018

Filed Under: Blog, Dog Poems, Music, Poems, poetry, poetry prompt, poetry teaching resources, writing prompts

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Comments

  1. L. L. Barkat says

    June 2, 2014 at 12:01 pm

    Hmmm. I haven’t had a dog in a long time. This poem is about the last dog I owned, who I had to leave behind with a stepfather. Oh, so sorry. It’s not a particularly cheery poem. And it’s much earlier work of mine. But I wanted to share 🙂

    “Angelo”

    He was just a mutt,
    though to me
    long-haired, ivory comfort
    seemed to be a god

    or perhaps
    a worker of art
    like the Michael
    from whom I took his name.

    We left him behind
    (the way people must
    sometimes
    release their gods
    to time or poverty),

    left him
    in the hands of a man
    who took a shot
    at God’s heart,

    showed it wasn’t
    bullet-proof, after all,
    as I’d prayed it would be.

    Reply
    • SimplyDarlene says

      June 2, 2014 at 12:19 pm

      Oh mercy, miss L.L. To be honest, this makes me want to simultaneously bawl and open a can of half-shook whoop.

      Twice we’ve had 3 dogs at a time… imagine three bundles of hairy, lick-y, waggy love all vying for attention and treats at once. Dog-diggity-divine.

      Reply
    • Richard Maxson says

      June 2, 2014 at 12:36 pm

      Laura, a poignant poem. It’s so difficult when we have to leave a friend for whatever reason. Thanks for sharing.

      Reply
    • Donna says

      June 3, 2014 at 10:24 am

      Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

      Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 11:49 am

      Beautiful. “release their gods to time or poverty…” Tragic.

      Reply
  2. Richard Maxson says

    June 2, 2014 at 12:03 pm

    Wow! What a playlist. So many I haven’t heard for years. Hard to pick favorites, but Dog Days Are Over and Werewolves of London stand out. My daughter recently got a dog (I was concerned, because she did not fare well with the kittens we got her at 10 yo. But after a few months she said to me, “Now I can see how you got so attached to your cats (notice how ownership changed) and dogs.” Dogs and parents are the closest we ever come to unconditional love on earth.

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 11:53 am

      What a lovely thing for your daughter to observe, Richard. Sounds like the best kind of compliment to you, as a parent.

      Reply
  3. SimplyDarlene says

    June 2, 2014 at 12:23 pm

    Smokin’ Joe! Who knew these playlists had a scroll bar on the side?! What I’ve been missing all these times…

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 11:55 am

      Enjoy with abandon!

      Reply
  4. Richard Maxson says

    June 2, 2014 at 12:42 pm

    My last dog I got from a shelter when she was two. She graced my life for 10 years.
    ***

    What I share with the rain
    —for Molly

    hides in dog simplicity—
    her tongue slapping at backwater,
    no bowl and, after rain, the puddles
    from the weight of wheels,
    like mine, which she feared at first,
    as if she knew something, as we do often:
    that death is bound to life
    in unexpected ways:

    a ride, head out the window, ears flapping
    (the wind made breathing easy),

    and later, my voice from which she gained
    a grace for shots and vets,
    like the one I endured with her,
    completing what began years ago,
    her rescue too late, lost, drinking
    the rain that lifted the green pearls
    wheels had left in their swales.

    Reply
    • Donna says

      June 3, 2014 at 2:37 pm

      Oh Richard, you tell this story so beautifully… my heart feels every beat.

      Reply
      • Heather Eure says

        June 5, 2014 at 11:57 am

        How dear. Thank you, Richard.

        Reply
  5. Megan Willome says

    June 2, 2014 at 1:35 pm

    What is it with you people–now the dares are implied. After seeing that dogs were June’s theme in Every Day Poems, I decided to write dog poems all month. After all, I’ve written extensively about Polo and Clover already. Might as well try some poems about them.

    Reply
    • Monica Sharman says

      June 2, 2014 at 3:35 pm

      I was hoping for some Polo and Clover poems!

      Reply
    • SimplyDarlene says

      June 2, 2014 at 5:44 pm

      oh, an implied dare? hmmm. intriguing idea, miss Megan!

      Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 12:01 pm

      I’m new to Polo and Clover. Surely you must share! Don’t leave us hanging!

      Reply
  6. Will Willingham says

    June 2, 2014 at 1:45 pm

    If Fifi taught me one thing,
    it was the folly of dislodging
    a meat-crusted bone
    from a sharp-toothed mouth
    with a bare-skinned toe.

    But alas–
    in her fur-balled generosity,
    Fifi taught me two things.

    The other: that toy poodle
    is an unfortunate
    contradiction
    in terms.

    Reply
    • Donna says

      June 3, 2014 at 10:26 am

      🙂

      Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 12:10 pm

      Growing up, there was an older neighbor who had a toy poodle (my first introduction to them). His name was Ghost. He was 350 years old. Had rheumy eyes, was blinded by cataracts, patchy fur, covered in fleshy bumps and skin tags, long claws that would “rat-a-tat-tat” across the front porch. His bark was shrill and he hated anyone that didn’t smell like moth balls. (I didn’t)
      I’m still haunted by Ghost.

      Reply
  7. Marcy says

    June 3, 2014 at 12:10 am

    My golden girl
    Half Shepherd,
    Half Collie.
    Sweet baby,
    Gentle as a lamb.
    Grew up with all
    Three kids,
    Laid your head
    Against the ground.
    Best dog you’ve even seen.
    A beauty in her field.
    Long straight nose,
    Short hair, best mix of
    A dog anywhere.
    She got hit by a car,
    Rolled as she was hit.
    Saved her life is what
    It did.
    She passed away at 16 years.
    Hardest thing I ever did,
    Was putting my baby down.
    Those big brown eyes,
    Looked up at me,
    She couldn’t walk
    So sad to see.
    Once she was gone,
    We tried three other
    Dogs to love.
    None of those could
    Take her place.
    We found them homes,
    Gave up the faith.

    Reply
    • Donna says

      June 3, 2014 at 10:27 am

      I know the feeling, Marcy….

      Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 12:27 pm

      Sometimes there’s only one true love.

      Reply
  8. Rosanne Osborne says

    June 3, 2014 at 10:45 am

    Westie, Toad, and Night

    My Westies love to chase the night
    to find the toad, to taste the dew.
    The act, the hunt, ensures delight.
    My Westies love to chase the night.
    Reborn each day with keen foresight,
    they nap for strength to stalk anew.
    My Westies love to chase the night
    to find the toad to chase the dew

    Reply
    • Donna says

      June 3, 2014 at 2:38 pm

      HA! So playful… your words and your Westies!

      Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 12:29 pm

      So fun. I too, nap for strength to stalk anew. 🙂

      Reply
  9. Donna says

    June 3, 2014 at 2:16 pm

    I grew up with dogs my whole life, but I never knew how much I could truly love a dog until my husband brought Fluffy home one day and showed me how it’s done – how one can have a pet that becomes a brother to their own sons. And so then one day we were given the news that he had become very ill. I wrote this poem on the day I learned of his lymphoma and posted it again, with this last beautiful image of him, on the day he left this world. I’ll post the words here, but the link is better – there is a shape and shading thing with the text – and a photo. http://thebrightersideblog.blogspot.com/2013/03/rip-fluffy-jet-if-hearts-had-handles.html

    How
    will I carry a heart
    this heavy?

    If hearts had handles
    I could hold on

    keep it steady
    somehow

    but there’s just
    no place to grab

    nothing to clutch
    and press against
    my body for
    balance…

    How will
    I carry
    a heart
    this heavy

    filled with the
    breathless sound
    of watching
    you go
    slowly
    into a
    new
    light?

    How…

    will I
    carry
    my
    heart?

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 12:32 pm

      The love and loss is felt. The photo you included is perfect. What kind of dog was Fluffy? Looks a bit like a Border Collie.

      Reply
      • Donna says

        June 5, 2014 at 12:37 pm

        Thank you, Heather. He was a Border Collie, yes. We’re not sure if he was a mix – my husband found him at the Humane Society in TN.

        Reply
        • Heather Eure says

          June 5, 2014 at 1:04 pm

          Border Collies are among my most beloved. They are so wise and earnest.

          Reply
          • Donna says

            June 6, 2014 at 6:26 pm

            Yes. Something very Zen about Fluffy. 🙂 Now, his brother Gruffy, adopted, is part Bernese and part Border Collie (we think)… he is more Bozo the clown! (he came with that name, by the way)

  10. James Scott Smith says

    June 3, 2014 at 3:41 pm

    I am rather fond of dogs. Here’s one by way of my Leonberger, Ansel.

    I thumb inside his big loose ears,

    his eyelids descend to half mast.

    a gentle paw rises to rest on my arm while

    his breath, a sweet warmth, respires

    from the deep hollow of divine conspiracy. our history is

    natural… my ancestors, and his, ran parallel lines

    along game trails lacing

    pyrenean peaks,

    paddling nova scotia’s icy waters, searching

    through the pass at saint bernard… his specieshood

    distinct, dependence shared, such witness of

    evolution, the wellspring of

    creation. my dog, my God, my soul confer each day

    we three walk the way of work and friendship forged

    through need and care. I laugh when

    he dances with simple joy, bucking bronco rearing,

    twisting, rolling his exultant head in circles to say

    “come play! come live!”. of all the creatures come to

    bless my kind, this

    one

    is my heart.

    Reply
    • Donna says

      June 3, 2014 at 4:21 pm

      I feel like I know your Ansel through these words…

      and oh, I love this: “a sweet warmth, respires
      from the deep hollow of divine conspiracy”

      Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 12:36 pm

      So serene and heartfelt. Glad you’re here, James! I’m also glad to have read a poem about my favorite Leonberger, Ansel.

      Reply
  11. Donna says

    June 3, 2014 at 4:21 pm

    Heather… loving this theme! Don’t tell anyone but I have become a dog person. 😉

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 12:50 pm

      Haha! Glad you’re enjoying it, Donna. There’s something about dog poems that’s accessible to everyone. Whether joyful or sad, dog poetry is drawn from deep wells. Capturing a glimpse into the lives of each others pups, knits us together as a poetic community. It’s nice to see everyone share so freely.

      Oh, and your secret is safe with me. 🙂 tee hee

      Reply
  12. James Scott Smith says

    June 4, 2014 at 8:03 am

    a piece I wrote on inauguration day… about an old boy named Sam.

    http://dogwalkerjames.wordpress.com/2013/01/22/sam/

    Reply
    • Marcy says

      June 4, 2014 at 11:07 am

      What happened to the song “How much is that doggie in the window, I do hope that doggie’s for sale? Was that a old Patty Page song?

      Reply
      • L. L. Barkat says

        June 4, 2014 at 1:41 pm

        It still exists. But not in my playlist 😉

        (Could not have that running in my head endlessly. No, no, no.)

        Reply
        • Marcy says

          June 4, 2014 at 8:25 pm

          Well, the stupid song has been in my head all day. Somebody help me?

          Reply
          • Donna says

            June 4, 2014 at 9:07 pm

            I could stick the song that never ends (’cause it goes on and on my friends) in your head, but that’s not about dogs (although Lambchop’s friend Hush Puppy may be involved in the singing of it). 😉

    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 12:54 pm

      Sam left me teary-eyed. Such a nice tribute. A great photo, too. Nicely done.

      Reply
    • Donna says

      June 5, 2014 at 1:02 pm

      Oh James, this (as I’m trying to see through bleary eyes) I had to share with my husband… he’ll cry too when he reads it, thinking of all the dogs he’s loved but most especially Fluffy.

      Reply
  13. James Scott Smith says

    June 5, 2014 at 10:54 am

    Why Wolf Became Dog

    I know how wolf became dog,
    why? the cruxy question.
    so awe full an offering,
    some foretelling, I would say, today
    fifteen thousand years
    from whence she wandered
    ‘long tundra’s expanse,
    wolf
    heard a cry,
    a mourning song,
    a terrible, swelling sehnsucht from beneath a
    new mindfulness dwelling upright in the world.
    being was being observed by its own, and
    there was shame in it, it seems
    wolf,
    from ridgeline, raised her ears at village clamor,
    desperate chanting, her empathy stalked
    shadows dancing
    as vapors of yearning rose
    into empty nights
    where all mythologies are spawned,
    wolf
    lowered her head and approached
    the conscious savage
    estranged from the blissful garden.
    she did what had to be done…
    wolf,
    from primal domain, a higher terrain
    emptied herself, taking on
    mortal burdens
    morphed for more than survival’s sake, and
    nuzzled into homes, hearths, hearts
    living and dying, in service to
    the turning back,
    dog
    leading the lost ones to
    the heart of the universe.

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 5, 2014 at 12:58 pm

      This theme is ideal for you, James. Your heart is full of Dog Songs. 🙂

      Reply
      • James Scott Smith says

        June 5, 2014 at 1:07 pm

        Yuppers. Kind of in my more immediate wheelhouse I’d say. Thanks for the prompt and the warm welcome.

        Reply
  14. Sandra Heska King says

    June 5, 2014 at 1:13 pm

    Holding dog court …

    http://sandraheskaking.com/2014/06/dog-court/

    Reply
    • Donna says

      June 5, 2014 at 1:18 pm

      LOL! HA!!! I love this … a LOT! I might even bake a dog biscuit with a nail file in it I am so in love with the perps. You are so very clever, Sandra!

      Reply
      • Heather Eure says

        June 7, 2014 at 9:33 pm

        Funny! It’s good to have a sense of humor about the chewables. 🙂

        Reply
  15. Charity Singleton Craig says

    June 5, 2014 at 1:19 pm

    Ok, inspired by Megan, Polo, and Clover, here’s my little dog poem.

    “Tilly and Kitty”

    A black cat and
    a black dog
    have about as much in
    common
    as a black night
    and a black car.
    One lingers mysteriously.
    The other forges ahead.

    Usually.

    Today, Midnight sits at the top of the stairs, waiting.
    Tilly whimpers at the bottom,
    like a Chevy with a whiny timing belt.

    I stroke Tilly’s chin,
    then climb the stairs.
    She follows,
    bold now.

    Reply
    • Sandra Heska King says

      June 5, 2014 at 2:10 pm

      “like a Chevy with a whiny timing belt.” Love it!

      Reply
    • James Scott Smith says

      June 5, 2014 at 10:53 pm

      a most livable poem. I was right there.

      Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 7, 2014 at 9:36 pm

      I have one of those whining timing belts, too. 🙂

      Reply
  16. Marcy says

    June 5, 2014 at 1:56 pm

    Growing up on the farm I lived to see three,
    Three dogs, all different as can be.
    First, was a Chow, Chow.
    Red as could be,
    Along with his black tongue,
    A butterball to me.
    Renny got old and lost his hearing.
    Favorite place to lay down for a nap,
    Was the cool gravel of our long driveway.
    Uncle Gordon came by that day,
    He loved old Renny just like us kids.
    You see, Renny was taking his nap,
    Favorite spot,
    Laying on the gravel,
    Didn’t hear the car.
    Uncle Gordon took it real bad,
    He cried, layed down beside Renny,
    He knew Renny was all we had.
    That big old dog,
    All that red long hair.
    I watched my Daddy bury Renny
    In the field over there.
    Daddy loved that dog too.
    His eyes full of tears,
    Mine were too.
    I hate this memory right now,
    Because I can see him, and
    I’m crying right now too.

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      June 7, 2014 at 9:45 pm

      I hope the happy memories of your Renny are a comfort.

      Reply
  17. Marcy says

    June 5, 2014 at 9:43 pm

    Ok, “Ole To One Of My Dumbest Dogs”

    Black and white spots
    Not perfect spots.
    Sir Reginald of Huntington
    Reggie for short,
    A Dalmatian pup cute as can be.
    Crate him at night,
    Next morning
    Poop there would be.
    Poop all over the pup,
    A bath before work
    This dog was too much.
    Let loose in the yard,
    He ate down the new trees.
    Jumped up and would bite me.
    Kids refused to go play,
    Poop on the dog,
    Still in the crate.
    Stupid dog,
    Hadn’t a clue
    But he got a bath more
    Than me or you.
    Sold that dog to a man
    Who had land.
    Don’t miss Reggie,
    He was a poop of a dog.
    Lay in it, sit in it,
    Didn’t matter where it was at.
    I’m surprised that dog
    Didn’t eat it for a snack.

    Reply
  18. Donna says

    June 8, 2014 at 7:39 am

    This just in –
    Gruffy expresses himself in what I guess you could call mixed media. http://thebrightersideblog.blogspot.com/2014/06/this-just-in.html 😉

    Reply
  19. Kate Solisti says

    June 8, 2014 at 4:23 pm

    Remembering Mollie

    Angel of a dog. No one sweeter, more devoted. Beautiful face, Egyptian eyes.
    Her tail, a white, graceful flag. Peaceful, gentle being. Angel of a dog.

    Angel of a dog – loving me constantly. Quietly waiting, eagerly joining me on a walk, in the car, resting under my chair.

    Angel of a dog, licking baby Miranda’s tiny feet, making us both giggle.

    Reply

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Performance cookies are used to understand and analyze the key performance indexes of the website which helps in delivering a better user experience for the visitors.
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Others
Other uncategorized cookies are those that are being analyzed and have not been classified into a category as yet.
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