Love Poems About Mongrel or Mongrel Love Poems
by Lewis Raynes |
Categories: love, perspective, philosophy, wisdom,

A blind man and his poetic friend- in braille

Here’s a short poem for the blind among us, 
A poem that’s written in braille,
A poem that hopes to enlighten the world, 
A short unique, beautiful tale,

About a blind old wise man, who lives all alone, 
In a house on the far side of town,
With a poetic dog, who faces the moon, 
And howls a short poetic sound, 

And the man can see what the dog softly sings, 
Can see what this dog tries to say,
Can see the love shared by this most beautiful dog, 
The love on full public display,

As he drifts off to sleep, every night of the week, 
Drifts off with this dog on his mind,
This poetic mongrel, a terrier cross something, 
This poetic dog who is blind.





by Tirzah Conway |
Categories: animals, devotion, friendship, love, petsme,

Zeus

He’s there for me through thick and thin; Closer to me than my next of kin; With big ole feet, a long wagging tail; And a nose that’s never lost the trail; His long droopy ears have caught many a tear; But I always have comfort whenever he’s near; And I know whenever I am upset, He’ll be there, my loyal pet; He’s got my back, no matter what, My silly mongrel and devoted mutt; My baby Zeus, My faithful friend; The one that will be there till the end.

by steven markham |
Categories: animals

The Perfect Choice

I may not have great breeding
I will never go to Crufts
my coats a little shaggy
you could say that I am a scruff
I am not known at the kennel club
the reason is you see
I am just a little mongrel and I have no pedigree
But my tail is always wagging
my big brown eyes are bright
sometimes  I am a little naughty
but I never ever bite
I will run  and fetch the ball for you
Your slippers  I will get
I am really truly very healthy
and I do not  often need to see the vet
So  I am sure that you can love me
though I have no family crest
Go-on please choose me
I promise I will  prove to be the best


by Jeremy Street |
Categories: art, baby, beautiful, love,

Her Princess Amid Enchanting's Courtyard

Walking as if within a dream down, her heart's hushed corridors....
A swarm of gnats gnawing viciously on their mongrel heretics dogmatic
Scrolls his provenance clinging unto it's birth this womb's, in vogue ? Void
Sacrilegious separatism these virulent breeds as bred by, rabid's father tongue
An ark of their own covenants; Elizabethan's, elliptical children studious starve'lings
Intransigent invading illusionist craving conjurers confederations; ancient's sperminations
Luxferre la fox her kismet's quaff a quagmire ? Yet love's looking glass and time, she shall drink.

by Jack Bowman |
Categories: political

Jesus was from a Mongrel race

Jesus was from A Mongrel Race

He is not to be trusted, he is mixed;
the purity of his divine grace
muddied by the nasty, lazy, dark, 
humans

he may have been a child of love
but where is love in those hateful, fearful,
Earth dwelling, 
parasites

God should have stayed with his own kind
should have mated with a divine female
not polluted his blood with the virus
of ignorance and these slovenly savages

now is the beginning of the curse:
more Nehalem, more Herculean half - Gods
and misfit half-breeds

what made him think that these lowly creatures
are worth anything?


by Victoria Schmidt |
Categories: christmas, death, grief,

The Grieving

The Grieving 

A frenzy, a chaos of
celebration all around.
Togetherness and ritual imposed while 
inside of me a splintering

No respite, no escape from 
faces eager to connect 
to share, to love.
Grief is a mongrel here;
an agony of burden on 
the righteous shoulders of joy

I can only run, crying out,
in frantic search of

This tree, this breeze that
gives me permission 
gives me space 
to breathe 
to be

Its tapestry of lace against 
a grey ocean of sky 
shrouds me from expectation,
from judgement,
defending my right 
to grieve 
to peace

At Christmas