Friday, July 24, 2009

Edits, etc.

I'm still working hard on the edits for my novel. I've hit the halfway mark. I've also been writing tons of poetry and short stories, but I'm subbing them out as opposed to posting them here. Sorry.

On another note, I have a new puppy. He and another pup were found on a neighbor's porch. They put signs up everywhere, but no one claimed them. Her sister adopted one and I adopted the other. The odd part is that he is the exact breed of dog I love, and it was a random occurrence which led him to my house. The neighbor was taking him for a walk, and I happened to see him go by. Add in a conversation about the breed of dog, which led to the details of his arrival into our neighborhood, which led into the statement they were taking him to a shelter the next day. Neighbor has new twin human babies and another dog. They simply could not keep him. They were ecstatic that I decided to. But in truth, one long look into his big, dark eyes and I couldn't not keep him. He is a wonderful puppy and smart, too. He had his first vet appointment today and is completely healthy. The vet determined his age to be four months. I have no idea how someone could just abandon him. People can be very cruel.

Kane is already 35 pounds and will most likely be 70 pounds when full-grown. He is a pit bull and before you recoil in mortal terror, please know that most everything you read about pits is false. They are fantastic dogs, naturally non-aggressive with humans, incredibly intelligent, and easy to train. Training is the key, and Kane's training started the minute he walked into my house. He is a total love bug and it's funny. I've never, ever been a dog person, but I love this pup and I am so grateful that I ran into the neighbor and Kane came to live with me instead of going to the shelter.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Rage in Vermillion

Red
burns my eyes.
A veil.
A mask.

My mouth
will not work,
fused shut
by smoke and fire.

It is nothing,
but a break.
A not-thing
in my hand.

I show you
my empty palm.

The not-thing
fractures my smile,
turns blood to screams.

Secret,
silent screams.

The words fly,
sharp-edged.
I am trapped
behind
the red prison.

You wear
shattered peace
like a dark cloud.

I stay
inside myself -
cold
and red.

Always.
 

© 2009Damien Walters | by TNB