A Dalmatian Named Frederick

I dreamt about a Dalmatian named Frederick
On a Tuesday night, a week or so ago
Now I can't stop thinking about his pink tongue
Lolling, and his happy tail swinging side
To side, and his spotted paws dancing
On my carpet
I want a Dalmatian named Frederick
Because he reminds me of my childhood
Of a dog I once knew, who climbed
Many stairs to reach a loft on the top floor
His snout always joyous, his energy
Seeping into the floor, couches, and kitchen
Of course, that Dalmatian is long gone
As is the energy that he summoned
With his barking and whining
And chomping food from the bowl
Why did I dream about a Dalmatian named Frederick?
Could he be a returning ghost
Of a life long forgotten?
When I collected all the plastic figurines
From 101 Dalmatians, back when
They came with the nuggets in the Happy Meal
The Dalmatian brings back an innocent time
He's all I can think about
This spotted dog luring me into his world
For one day he will meet my children
And brighten my home
And I will name him Frederick

Comments

Women: Living Contradictions

What does society want? For women to achieve impossible standards (and, by the way, it is NOT possible to achieve something that is impossible). Society wants us to be living contradictions...cabbage heads on stilts... airhead rocket scientists. Society wants us to be things that don't even exist in fiction, but only in the glossy pages of a Cosmopolitan magazine (look at me! I'm so skinny! So happy! Sexy all the time!). As I heard said many times before, "even Victoria's Secret models don't look like Victoria's Secret models." The way the proportions are warped, each pimple bleached, each hair trimmed down to pre-pubescence, toes and fingers without a scar, and the face angelic and so happy... it makes me sick. It makes me sick because of the contradictions, because women are expected to: Be sexy but not slutty Be innocent but not prude Be virgins but also fantastic lovers Be independent but submissive Be good mothers but maintain careers Be...

The Flood

Sometimes I feel like My insides are flooding Threatening to spill out And clog glutters in the street With all my unsatisfied ambition Sometimes I want to drown In a soup of grey water To just forget it all And become one with the tunnels, Streets, and people of the city Their shoes tracking dirt From one train station to the next Let the rain water drain it all Cleanse it all The grief and the dissatisfaction The mundanity and the boredom Of the occassional commute Let the flood take me Take us To a train station that hasn't been built yet On tracks that don't yet exist Far, far away In the meadows Where the soil can finally soak up All the grey unwanted rain

Happiness is Pink Jellybeans

Happiness is jumping in a pool of pink jellybeans Feeling the cool candy on my skin Happiness is enjoying the pleasures of life Without worrying about confessing my sins Whoever said that we are gluttons For biting juicy pears on the beach Must never have felt the sand in their toes They must have placed their own soul out of reach And what about greed? It's not all that bad To bury a pile of chestnuts for the spring All animals do it, so why shouldn't we? If it's greedy to love yourself, let it be Lust is the one that makes pastors blush Yet it's one of the greatest joys in the body A kiss and a dance, laughter and romance Why did we ever label this happiness as naughty? Have you ever seen a cat sad when it naps? It is okay to sometimes be lazy The body needs rest as does the mind Or the world will set fire from the crazy If happiness is a sin, then let me smile in hell Looking up at the do-gooders above For to live is to err, to cry, and to sing Happiness is pink jell...

Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

Search This Blog