Photo:Josephine Rose, artist, Manchester


TRANSITION - I

To suddenly find my self being a dog
was highly embarrassing and most unwanted
Not as a great Mastiff of course no no
a poodle it had to be
trapped into a car with the windows closed
desperately looking for who ever
was my new vessel's caretaker

Probably out on a nice walk with some other dogs
I could smell several in the car
leaving the barking, jumping, fragile
wanting-to-be-carried-around-scared poodle
maybe to suffocate and almost by accident
getting rid of that obstacle of burden on a
otherwise doghappy caretakers life

So irritating that the horn did'nt work
the keys not be find in the car
I could have made a real spectacle

Being transformed into a poodle
have not in any way taken away my knowledge
how to start or brilliantly drive a car
though with these stupidly put together body parts
I had to admit my limited capacity

To save oxygen I quite soon came to a calm
and sat down in the backseat
where I could find a little shadow
contemplating my chances to get back
to my miserable poetic life
where I could continue to gather small glimpse of hope
big enough to look down on irritating poodles

All the time trying not to desperately wanting a cigarette
or a lot of them
bitterly seeing my incapacity of smoking them
in this fingerless situation

So what did go wrong?
I had earlier with great courage transitioned myself
far from my safe environment
making a journey of physical difficulty
ending up in a far away country
where I terrified discovered my mistake
asking myself
“what the fuck am I doing here?!”

With no other reasonable answer
that my sweet inner journey had come to and end
From the rocks and desert of nothingness
in my inner landscape
was it maybe the climate change..?
suffering from severe mental hydration

I thought the only solution was
a physical journey
to wip my inner mind into "normal" maybe
After first having search that shrinking territory
for some rescue
some buddhist monks to help me perhaps
but they where all out hunting muslims
and Dalai Lama
where the fuck was he?

The shock of finding myself so far away from everything
with people talking a strange language
a lifetime away from my own limited verbal skills
must have given me a certain poetic collapse
fear, panic, total loss of tongue
the only word able to measly sound from my tight lips
with great effort
was Help!
with no more chances to be heard
than the sound of a butterfly on the other side of planet

So then I probably died, vanished or
dragged my corpus on autopilot around in circles somewhere
while my inner self or what left of it
was rushed into
this surprisingly new being of a poodle
trapped in a car

Mentally smoking my tenth cigarette
clenching my teeth as usual
a result of my idiotic or by that time wonderful idea
of traveling my inner space on drugs
I was thinking hard about what was happening

I came to understand
that my aversion against some dogs
mainly the misguided ones
I always excused myself to the good dogowners
was just a great underlying feeling of jalousie
a deep subconscious envie towards the happy dogs
curling up on their owners lap
with only one small task in life;
to behave properly
not bark or bite strangers
wag your tale accordingly to the right spoken words
in return for served food and safety till death

If not trapped and soon suffocating
I might take on this new life form with respect
starting right now to behave
like a unbelievably exemplary poodel

Having just finished that thought
I panicked and jumped over in the front seat
trying like a lunatic to hunk the horn
barking my lungs out

Then I woke up




Poetry by PapaFahr The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 204 times
Written on 2016-06-17 at 11:38

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