Wednesday, November 4, 2020

The Little Dog

The little dog stands alert
looking for something to bark at.
Most of the time there’s nothing
and he is disappointed.

Looking for something to bark at
takes concentration and grit,
and he is disappointed
if he goes in without uttering a sound.

Taking concentration and grit,
he plans for the next time he goes out.
If he goes in without uttering a sound,
there is nothing to be rewarded for.

He plans for the next time he goes out.
Most of the time there’s nothing.
There is nothing to be rewarded for.
The little dog stands alert.

© Julianne Carlile

Saturday, May 16, 2020

That Bell

The way the bell
rang on that day
was like a tell
in poker play.

It rang to say
war had begun,
that on that day...
an end to fun.

It rang so loud
and rang so hard
some there were proud
and others scarred.

Who knows for whom
it tolled that bell,
for life’s a tomb,
and hell’s a bell.

©️ Julianne Carlile


Wednesday, November 18, 2015

A mixed-breed guard dog barking at an intruder...
the garage guard dog
next to him leaning in close
his young replacement

Tuesday, November 17, 2015


Colours - make up
Violet pearlescent eye shadow;
watermelon tinted chap stick;
cover stick to cover the blemishes and
give you that glow;
rose gold eye cream, only to be worn
at night at some posh function.
You can never wear too much blue eye shadow
someone once said in a movie and, by George, it's true!
A fresh tube of lipstick, a new shade...
oh, wait, it's the same as the one in my drawer.
Time in front of a mirror with a palette
to choose from, my face the blank canvas...
I have a cousin who's never worn make-up.
Of course, she's very beautiful, but how can she resist
the irresistible? 

© Julianne Carlile

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Dog Haiku

Haiku Studios
Add caption
I bark all night long
my owner is not at home
but I do my job

© Julianne Carlile

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

The Dream Fish

How Much Is the Fish?
My grandmother used to take us fishing.
Feet dangling from the pier,
she’d bait our hooks and
take the fish off.
Most too small to keep,
she’d throw them back.
Sometimes, we’d get one we could take home.
Once in a while we’d catch a crab.
They were tenacious and hard to shake off,
despite our best work,
and Grandma was often tasked there too.

Years later I had a dream of that shore:
I’d waded in, hands in the water,
trying to catch a great big fish.
The fish was beautiful,
all the colors of the rainbow and more:
it seemed to shine with gold and silver;
it had a preternatural light.
No matter how hard I tried,
I could not grab that fish.

Long after I awoke, the dream stayed with me.
I couldn’t catch it,
and I couldn’t let it go.

© Julianne Carlile

Saturday, November 15, 2014

The Voyage

"S" Is for Silence
Sometimes I wonder about others
when I am on a voyage,
thinking to myself in the silence.
Where do I have to go, how far away,
to lose this incredible burden:
my talent for doing so much harm.

It is not only that I do harm,
but through my neglect the others
shoulder my terrible burden
and go off on their own voyage.
They go their own way, they go my way,
and I am left alone in the silence.

What happens to them in the silence?
They pass ahead into time; is it harm?
Why do I think any way they go is my way?
They are complete minds—they are others.
Yet, we all make the same voyage,
and to be separate is a great burden.

Not to see you as me is a burden,
a painful wall of immense silence
that causes us to go alone on our voyage.
On the other hand, harm
can also be seen in seeing others
exactly as myself. I want my way.

This is why I run or walk away
with my sack, my mysterious burden
which I hide from all the others.
Do you think they know in the silence
that I almost wish to do them harm,
that I am jealous of their voyage?

Do we protect others on their voyage
by making them believe they own their way?
Or could it be that we’re doing harm,
causing them to carry their burden
through an eternity of silence--
a silence that leads each of us to be an other.

On my voyage I’ll remember a burden
that took me away in the silence,
where my harm is equal to others’.

© Julianne Carlile 


Sunday, November 2, 2014

You Go On

English: Swallow in flight. Location: Kalamış,...
You go on, not remembering,
or else don’t care, which is the same,
and I think on the lovely ring
you took back, worn by what’s her name.
Nature consoles me; it has heart,
a heart I did not find in you.
Nature will not leave me apart.
Nature, in fact, is just and true.
The shorn grass falls out in my wake,
the swallows follow on my way,
I resolve to make a mistake.
Before I see the boy, I say,
"I love you," and your voice or God’s,
on the summer wind answers, nods.

© Julianne Carlile

Wednesday, October 22, 2014


Gold Dust Gertie
I would often ask you for the stories
of how I ended up here
and you would tell me:
I met your grandfather when
he came to work for my parents.
He was a really sharp dresser.
Then you would laugh.

I wondered if you knew what you were really
telling me:
That grandpa had been given used clothes
by your lover, a man you were enamored with
and at first, at the play,
you thought grandpa was him.
(His scent permeated the room;
you could feel him—his essence,
like a star beam covered in gold dust.
But then when you looked,
you saw it was grandpa.)

It must have been really funny,
but what’s really funny is that’s why
I’m here.

© Julianne Carlile

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Sonnet for Nicky

A male long-haired Chihuahua named Jack.
He has a head like a little flower,
a ruff like a lion's around his neck.
All day long he dreams of having power—
if he has to charge someone, what the heck?
I really think he likes to dream of life,
what it would be like to be on his own,
to be in charge and to have his own wife—
especially when I get on the phone.
But it is easier to live with me,
to not worry where his next meal comes from.
I feel for him then, the poor little bee:
the turmoil he feels when I tell him come.
So I live with him and he lives with me,
and in our faults by lies we flattered be.

© Julianne Carlile

The Little Dog

The little dog stands alert looking for something to bark at. Most of the time there’s nothing and he is disappointed. Looking for...