A stoic yet heroic little sparrow
Rebelliously flew South instead of North,
But soon late autumn migrant winds brought sorrow
As all the icy chilling sallied forth.
Even when the bird turned round to counter
Those plucky wings soon frosted tip to tip,
And tumbled through the bitter air of winter
To fall on farmyard’s cold and stony chip.
As the shape lay quiet without a flutter
A brindled cow came ambling by the scene,
And dropped a rich fermenting pile of matter
Upon the crumpled body frozen keen.
Deep within the warm and humid tangle
A gallant little heart resumed a beat
And soon the bird with affirmation single
Made chirping strains of joyous music sweet.
Alas the farmyard feline prowler stumbled
Upon this strangely cheeping heap of dung,
Then fast the happy bird was sorely humbled
And surely wished that he had never sung.
The morals are – it’s not always your enemies that put you in the crap – it’s not always your friends who pull you out of it – if you’re happy in crap don’t shout about it
It started with a mapped out football play (Red Dog)
where I was the blocker for the runner
who broke free to score the winning touchdown
play after play after play,
gaining all the glory for the hard work that I did
before swinging me the high five,
and I was happy.
Red Dog stayed with me like a leash until college,
where the taste of alcohol shortens everything,
including nicknames,
and Dog was born in the bone yard
well before the hip-hoppers drawled it out in their rhymes
and I was happy.
Dog was wedded to Tracks in the time
of music recorded in the cramped back rooms
of apartments, laying down
the grooves with cheap microphones and
cassette tapes on a four-track machine
under the guise of Dogtrax
and I was happy.
I still wrap myself up in the Dog
for my digital identity
and watch people scratch their heads
at this grown man with the funny email
and persona bark out at the world from time to time
with a wagging tail and trusting eyes
and, yes, I am still happy.
A stoic yet heroic little sparrow
Rebelliously flew South instead of North,
But soon late autumn migrant winds brought sorrow
As all the icy chilling sallied forth.
Even when the bird turned round to counter
Those plucky wings soon frosted tip to tip,
And tumbled through the bitter air of winter
To fall on farmyard’s cold and stony chip.
As the shape lay quiet without a flutter
A brindled cow came ambling by the scene,
And dropped a rich fermenting pile of matter
Upon the crumpled body frozen keen.
Deep within the warm and humid tangle
A gallant little heart resumed a beat
And soon the bird with affirmation single
Made chirping strains of joyous music sweet.
Alas the farmyard feline prowler stumbled
Upon this strangely cheeping heap of dung,
Then fast the happy bird was sorely humbled
And surely wished that he had never sung.
The morals are – it’s not always your enemies that put you in the crap – it’s not always your friends who pull you out of it – if you’re happy in crap don’t shout about it
Ken Allans last blog post..Technology Competency & 21st Century Learners
Call me Dog
It started with a mapped out football play (Red Dog)
where I was the blocker for the runner
who broke free to score the winning touchdown
play after play after play,
gaining all the glory for the hard work that I did
before swinging me the high five,
and I was happy.
Red Dog stayed with me like a leash until college,
where the taste of alcohol shortens everything,
including nicknames,
and Dog was born in the bone yard
well before the hip-hoppers drawled it out in their rhymes
and I was happy.
Dog was wedded to Tracks in the time
of music recorded in the cramped back rooms
of apartments, laying down
the grooves with cheap microphones and
cassette tapes on a four-track machine
under the guise of Dogtrax
and I was happy.
I still wrap myself up in the Dog
for my digital identity
and watch people scratch their heads
at this grown man with the funny email
and persona bark out at the world from time to time
with a wagging tail and trusting eyes
and, yes, I am still happy.
Listen to the podcast: http://www.box.net/shared/static/y2x9s4cu6c.mp3
Kevin Hodgsons last blog post..We Find Love — a song about love