Dog Years

Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
In a dogs life
A year is really more like seven
And all too soon a canine
Will be chasing cars in doggie heaven
It seems to me
As we make our own few circles round the sun
We get it backwards
And our seven years go by like one
Dog years --- its the season of the itch
Dog years --- with every scratch it reappears
In the dog days
People look to sirius
Dogs cry for the moon
But these connections are mysterious
It seems to me
While its true that every dog will have his day
When all the bones are buried
There is barely time to go outside and play
Dog years --- its the season of the itch

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song performed by Rush
Added by Lucian Velea
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A dialogue between Sir Henry Wootton and Mr. Donne

[W.]

IF her disdain least change in you can move,
You do not love,
For when that hope gives fuel to the fire,
You sell desire.
Love is not love, but given free ;
And so is mine ; so should yours be.

[D.]

Her heart, that weeps to hear of others' moan,
To mine is stone.
Her eyes, that weep a stranger's eyes to see,
Joy to wound me.
Yet I so well affect each part,
As—caused by them—I love my smart.

[W.]

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poem by John Donne
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Homage To Sextus Propertius - VIII

Jove, be merciful to that unfortunate woman
Or an ornamental death will be held to your debit,
The time is come, the air heaves in torridity,
The dry earth pants against the canicular heat,
But this heat is not the root of the matter:
She did not respect all the gods;
Such derelictions have destroyed other young ladies aforetime,
And what they swore in the cupboard
wind and wave scattered away.

Was Venus exacerbated by the existence of a comparable equal?
Is the ornamental goddess full of envy?
Have you contempted Juno's Pelasgian temples,
Have you denied Pallas good eyes ?
Or is it my tongue that wrongs you
with perpetual ascription of graces?
There comes, it seems, and at any rate
through perils, (so many) and of a vexed life,
The gentler hour of an ultimate day.

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poem by Ezra Pound
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Janie's Got a Gun

Dum, dum, dum, honey what have you done
Dum, dum, dum, it's the sound of my gun
Dum, dum, dum, honey what have you done
Dum, dum, dum, it's the sound, it's the sound...
Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah....
Janie's got a gun
Janie's got a gun
Her whole worlds come undone
From lookin' straight at the sun
What did her daddy do
What did he put you through
They say when Janie was arrested
They found him underneath a train
But man, he had it comin'
Now that Janie's got a gun
She ain't never gonna be the same
Janie's got a gun
Janie's got a gun
Her dog days just begun
Now everybody is on the run

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song performed by Aerosmith
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For The Stars That Fade Away

fade gently
the dark clouds hide
all of you
had your
dog days
and that is good
enough
for the annal
of history

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dog Days of Summer

It’s a hot and lazy time of year
With temperatures rising high
A body doesn’t want to work
Doesn’t even want to try

It’s time to lie around and rest
Not exert much energy
It’s too hot to work but rather
We want to take it pretty easy

And if you do have to work
Either do it early in the morn
Or after the sun goes down
Sometime before the dawn

Oh how nice it feels
On these dog days of summer
When the sun drops down
The day has turned a bit cooler

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poem by Marilyn Lott
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The Swimmer

IN dog-days plowmen quit their toil,
And frog-ponds in the meadow boil,
And grasses on the upland broil,
And all the coiling things uncoil,
And eggs and meats and Christians spoil.

A mile away the valley breaks
(So all good valleys do) and makes
A cool green water for hot heads' sakes,
And sundry sullen dog-days' aches.

The swimmer's body is white and clean,
It is washed by a water of deepest green
The color of leaves in a starlight scene,
And it is as white as the stars between.

But the swimmer's soul is a thing possessed,

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poem by John Crowe Ransom
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Make You Mine

Youre the one I think about time after time
Youre the one that comes to me, visions in the night
I want to complicate your feelings
I want to heat you up inside
Yeah yeah yeah, I wanna make you mine
Ill be your sun coming up
Ill be your dog days
Ill be your new morning
Kiss you baby
Ill be the bluebird singing
Ill keep you warm
Ill take you deep in
Take you deep in
Gonna make my bed beside you
In the bluebells of your soul
Gonna slip into your river, babe
Linger in your shoals
And when the stars are bright like fireflies
And the night is black as coal
Yeah yeah yeah, Im gonna make you mine

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song performed by Heather Nova
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Comes the Snow Storm

Heat still clings to the night air
as the dog days of summer roll on
the party in full swing
the snow storm now just minutes away

Sent the weather man for an updat the revelers did
waiting for his forcast
wanting the whitest of snow

All the party goers turn there heads
as the weather man returns
and with him

Comes the snow storm

poem by Vincent Armone
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I Finally Found Somebody

Well I finally found somebody,
Who lives to give their love to me, only me.
She takes away my worries,
Shows me how true love's meant to be, what a relief.
Now love don't have to be a ball and chain,
Or somebody pullin' on a puppet string.
Danglin' you around,
Like you got no mind all.
Love don't fade when the dog days come,
And hangs in tough 'til it sees the sun.
And I finally found somebody who,
Lets that love light shine on through.
Well I finally found somebody,
Who welcomes me with open arms, into their heart.
Thank God, my search is over.
I found a four-leaf clover, love took me long enough.
Now love don't have to be a ball and chain,
Or somebody pullin' on a puppet string.
Danglin' you around,
Like you got no mind all.

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song performed by Kenny Chesney
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August

August brings so many things to mind
Like county fairs with fun foods and rides easy to find.
Catfish scream louder than ever for our fishing poles,
Inviting us to joyous jaunts at our favorite watering holes.
The dog days of summer start drawing to a close,
But there’s still time for a lake visit or just a sprinkler hose.
August August, we thank you for your role in this summer.
Without you no doubt this season would be a real bummer.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Bare-Limbed Tree

summer gone to dog days,
autumn approaches on a
strange wind....
i long to watch the leaves turn,
and fall, tiny love stories

that no one else can see.
and the sound the bare-limbed
tree makes... reaching for the sky,
reaching through winter for
the spring....

the smell of woodsmoke,
coffee and brandy by the fire...
a thousand memories turned
to brown, lost to eternal moments,

i am that bare-limbed tree!
reaching for the sky, reaching
for another spring.... reaching

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Light Made Of Stone

There in the Spring causality struck
There in the virgin glory
Fumbling rains masked the sun
Until the vessels emptied
This summers dog-days, infernal fray
Slow and abounding in whispers
What can I learn, for what I yearned
Drove itself towards these dunes

Telling the winds I was a storm
Whose clouds have dissipated
In the cool eve, you've scolded the Spring
And taught me discrimination
Your tongue wrung like the sluggish sun
Unveiling those secret wounds
Yet Autumn is here, in some humble seed
To save me from your pelting glory.

poem by Derrick Puente
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Beautiful Women and Dog Days

I hit the beach running
Shapely babes are sunning
Oiled up so they won't burn
After a while, they turn

Skimpy swimwear does abound
Makes me want to hang around
Cut-off jeans, bikini, or a thong
I can gawk at them all day long

The afternoon sun and heat
Tops shed by the indiscreet
I love to see titillating tan lines
Jiggling bosoms and round behinds

Beautiful women and dog days
Laying there in the sun's rays
Oh what you do to me
Fruit of the forbidden tree

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poem by Charles Hancock
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Epilogue

Patience, little Heart.
One day a heavy, June-hot woman
Will enter and shut the door to stay.

And when your stifling heart would summon
Cool, lonely night, her roused breasts will keep the night at bay,
Sitting in your room like two tiger-lilies
Flaming on after sunset,
Destroying the cool, lonely night with the glow of their hot twilight;
There in the morning, still, while the fierce strange scent comes yet
Stronger, hot and red; till you thirst for the daffodillies
With an anguished, husky thirst that you cannot assuage,
When the daffodillies are dead, and a woman of the dog-days holds you in gage.
Patience, little Heart.

poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Muscular and Thick

I don't see how you can eat that meat.
Ripe and dripping moisture licked.
And oozing a rich nectar...
To satisfy your inviting tongue.

Orchards exploding with muscular and thick,
Apples of Macintosh.
Tempting one to pick.
When that season comes around again...
And bushels of them,
Become so hard to lift...
In woven baskets carried.

Muscular and thick these apples,
Held by such strong limbs.

What's the matter, baby?
Why is your mouth opened like that?

'It didn't dawn on me you were writing about apples.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Tree

In my armchair, by the window
often I sit down to share
my thoughts with my favorite tree.
She stands across the street,
petite, weeping evergreen
when first we met.
Now tall and majestic,
her graceful sweeping limbs
have risen above rooftops
hiding distant mountain peaks.

My faithful friend,
through the seasons she waits for me.
With spring breezes she dances
adorned in her new dress
of delicate green growth.
In dog days of summer heat
her sweeping skirts provide
the cool dark shade where birds nest
and fat black squirrels come to hide.

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poem by Angela Michel
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Sun downing

For my father winter brings with it the sun downing.
summers dog days pass and his state goes unchanged.
that is until the dark ANGRY winter once again brings the sun downing.

Brief flashes of the man he used to be sometimes appear.
his family first, his children his life.
then winter comes and snaps him back to present state of thought.
all his sleepless nights and months for this we thank the sun downing.

Us his family suffer from the mystery that is now his mind.
doctors only guess whats wrong, we follow directions.
but the winter winds howl and dad turns to the beast.
we thank the sun downing.

So dads here but in body only.
with age brings this terrible diesese and the sun downing

Takes the rest.

dedicated to all those living with someone with alzheimers

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poem by Vincent Armone
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The four Seasons of the Year.

Spring.
Another four I've left yet to bring on,
Of four times four the last Quaternion,
The Winter, Summer, Autumn & the Spring,
In season all these Seasons I shall bring:
Sweet Spring like man in his Minority,
At present claim'd, and had priority.
With smiling face and garments somewhat green,
She trim'd her locks, which late had frosted been,
Nor hot nor cold, she spake, but with a breath,
Fit to revive, the nummed earth from death.
Three months (quoth she) are 'lotted to my share
March, April, May of all the rest most fair.
Tenth of the first, Sol into Aries enters,
And bids defiance to all tedious winters,
Crosseth the Line, and equals night and day,
(Stil adds to th'last til after pleasant May)
And now makes glad the darkned northern wights
Who for some months have seen but starry lights.
Now goes the Plow-man to his merry toyle,

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poem by Anne Bradstreet
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Up And Down Old Brandywine

Up and down old Brandywine,
In the days 'at's past and gone--
With a dad-burn hook-and line
And a saplin' pole--swawn!
I've had more fun, to the square
Inch, than ever ANYwhere!
Heaven to come can't discount MINE
Up and down old Brandywine!

Hain't no sense in WISHIN'--yit
Wisht to goodness I COULD jes
'Gee' the blame' world round and git
Back to that old happiness!--
Kindo' drive back in the shade
'The old Covered Bridge' there laid
'Crosst the crick, and sorto' soak
My soul over, hub and spoke!

Honest, now!--it hain't no DREAM
'At I'm wantin',--but THE FAC'S

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poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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