Saturday, January 7, 2012

A Poem About Oscar, the Escape Artist Who Didn't Escape

I wrote this poem for my poem for day 8 of my Month of Poetry. The idea for this poem came to me as I was writing a response to another poem on a friend's blog. http://mistakenforarealpoet.wordpress.com/2012/01/05/on-goolwa-beach-audio-visual/#comment-149

This poem that started me thinking isn't about dogs or a dog, but it uses 'dog' as a metaphor, and the poem is also set out, cleverly, in the shape of a dog.

It all got me thinking about one of the dogs in my life, a schnauzer bred by my husband Graham and I. This lovely dog had a habit that could have killed him, but his death came when his habit could have saved him, if he could have got loose.

Poor Oscar, and poor Oscar's family. A fine dog gone, but never forgotten.


No escape

The gene for escape was born with him
lurking in his DNA.
Show him a fence, he had to try it,
try himself, prove his ability.
Leap and run
was his private joy -
he loved his home, but he loved to roam,
it was his need, his greed.
He had to see what was out there
waiting for him.
The house was a safe place though -
he couldn’t escape from there,
so when the fire jumped the walls,
leapt into the house
there was no escape for Oscar.


5 comments:

Sarah K Reece said...

What a sad situation, the ending of the poem is a bit of shock if like me you went straight to the poem and then read the accompanying text. Well written and very sad.

mistakenforarealpoet said...

Yes, I like it CC. As Sarah says,a shock at the end. Dramatic. If I had to make a suggestion, I'd say reduce the direct references to "Oscar". You might even call the poem "Oscar" or "Oscar the ...", and then only use the name, if at all, in the last line. Or keep the current title and maybe only use the name in the last line. Like the internal rhymes and chimes.

Carolyn Cordon said...

Thank you both for your comments. Dog breeding brought us many happy moments, but sad ones like this. Even though most of the dogs that have come into our lives move on to other homes, we still care about them.

Oscar was a special dog, and I mourned for his sad death.

And Mike, I like your ideas, and will adjust the poem accordingly.
Thank you.

john malone said...

an appealing poem; I know some people like that

Carolyn Cordon said...

Indeed John, these kinds of people can make the news for all of the wrong reasons.