The Neighbor’s Dog Will Not Stop Barking The neighbor’s dog will not stop barking My body - Thursday Tired and aching to sleep A rhythmic infliction of pain to my ears three quick barks And a fourth staccato Repeat repeat repeat There are no verses Only chorus after chorus Repeating Repeating Repeating . . . How can the neighbors not hear? Why do they allow their dog to pierce and torment the peaceful night’s air? What could possibly be causing it to bark? When will this torture end? Will I go crazy? I wrap my half dozen blankets around my head begging begging and praying praying for this to end Memories of my father’s distress at barking dogs Incessant at night when he could not sleep Seep into my cocoon of auditory protection One time - he stomping out of his bedroom and In his bathrobe and slippers driving on the three-wheeler To the neighbors with a bb-gun Or maybe it was an old boot To put an end to the neighbor's barking dog . . . Poor cupcake my little sister said The memory made me smile knowing he is still here And, then. . . I must have fallen asleep. ©by Shari L. Daniels, fierce despiser of dogs who bark at night Poem draft inspired by Billy Collin's poem: Another Reason Why I Don't Keep a Gun in the House and the fact that I could not sleep last night due to the neighbor's barking dog. I am participating in the 14th Annual SOL 2021 March challenge. For 31 days, I will attempt to write and share a small slice of life from my days. If you’d like to read more of today’s slices from other teacher-writers, please head over to twowritingteachers, who have also committed to this challenge. It's also Poetry Friday! If you'd like to read other poems from teachers, authors and poets participating in Poetry Friday, you can visit Kathryn Apel's lovely blog as she hosts today's poets. Please join us in the sharing of a poem on Fridays! When teachers write themselves, they are able to draw from their inner curriculum they have shaped for themselves in which to model and teach their students. But, more than this, as human beings, we also cultivate a writing practice that can be a buoy and and an anchor in the turbulent waters of our lives.
Sometimes, I can capture a moment with more specificity by drawing doodles than in writing a descriptive micro-memoir. Speech and thought bubbles lend to inferences that can portray my characters more than I could in describing them in words. And, it’s quicker.
It can become a curse, however, as you start to see everything as a graphic novel, visualizing a scene or overheard dialogue as cartoon snippets. You can’t get down things fast enough as once you start, you’ve activated the launching sequence. Then, you begin asking yourself what becomes “story-catching worthy”. I’ve come to believe that everything is “story-catching worthy”, and if we don’t capture it, it’s gone forever, and sometimes we don’t know a story’s worth until years later.
Being an introvert, I can quietly observe my extrovert family members and their witty conversations. They don’t realize I’m taking it all in. Actually, my husband does. He sometimes says, “Did you get that, hon? Can you put that in your notebook?”
His life is much more “story-catching worthy” than mine.
But, perhaps that’s why we were partnered.