A big cat roared in the wilderness,
As the birds fled to the skies,
As the echo's of the thunderbirds
Be drowning out their cries.
As mad, mad man goes off to war,
And young men die
Oh Lord what for?????
The dark green bird with the big propeller
Be dropping off some fine young fellows,
To fight a mad, mad, war in tears
As anguished mothers face their fears.
As boys, some dying for leaders pride,
Be forced to thrust their souls aside.
The Romans march they off to war,
They're still with us, and that's for sure.
The Gulf, Iraq and Vietnam
Does anybody give a damn???
About boys dying in the night,
And who be wrong and who be right.?
Copyright © Peter Duggan
It's a hanging day in Wolf City, Wyoming, 1894.
They're gonna drop Cat Ballou through the gallows' floor.
Cat your time has come as you stand on the brink.
It's sure making you think
about your life of sin.
Why are they now going to hang you and how did you begin?
Catherine Ballou lived in Wolf City, Wyoming
and folks here in Wyoming
live high off the hog.
That brand new firm Sears & Roebuck send them their catalog.
It's an upright town with kind, wonderful people,
friendly as can be.
When they say "Howdy" they mean it. Yep they are neighborly.
If only Cat had behaved,
these folks would befriend her.
If Cat had behaved,
their hearts they would lend her,
but Cat was depraved,
and to hell now they'll send her.
She could have lived like others do.
you're wicked through and through.
They'll now be hanging Cat Ballou.
On a mournful day she became part of a legend.
The real start of a legend
known as Cat Ballou.
When captains of industry
killed her daddy
it filled her heart with a hate that grew.
There are teardrops in her heart
but they can't make her cry.
She refused to fall apart.
They'll never make her cry.
She's lost all the family she's known
and her tears will turn to stone.
All the teardrops in her heart will never make her cry.
It's not very hard to grieve
when you're a little girl.
She refused to give up and leave
after they shattered her world.
They made a little girl feel
like a woman hard as steel,
and no matter how they try,
they'll never make her cry.
When you've got no tears, then you've gotta have something.
Hate really is something.
Blood is what you need
and Cat Ballou made her mind up to make this country bleed.
It took a crafty female brain
to stage the holdup of a train.
She planned it to the last detail
until it couldn't fail.
This dash and daring desperado
led her outlaw gang with cool bravado.
They all would follow where she'd lead.
They made the country bleed.
Round and round and round they went
till man and gal and beast were spent.
Round and round and round they rode.
Oh what an episode.
The Ballad of Cat Ballou
Continued in Part 2
Copyright © SillyBilly theKidster
My cat went a roaming to find a new home.
Sing kitty,sing katty,sing Oh!
This cat was so clever he had his own comb.
Look up,now look down,stone the crows!
He went into the neighbours' and drank all their milk.
Sing,fridge raiding kitties.No,No!
Then he laid himself down on a piece of fine silk.
Sing,what the dickens,my lovely pillow!
He went to the butcher and ate all the steak.
Sing greedy,he's ruined my flow.
Then he went to the hairdresser for a shampoo.
Where else can a puttitat go?
He had no plastic,no money,no cheque!
Sing,cheater,sing creature,sing woe.
She sent for a Copper who paid the cat's bill.
And so my puss came out all aglow.
Now my cat was glossy and plump and refreshed.
Sing:fancy,it all goes to show.
So he came home and said this place is best.
And he picked up his cello and bow.
He scraped some Sibelius and also some Grieg.
Sing: Northern lights can always glow.
But,he looked so self satisfied,I felt annoyed....
One should not let one's narcissism show.
But he was so handsome,I was glad he came home.
Sing,grateful,sing katefull,sing Ho!
And I hope he will never again want to roam.
Sing glory.sing story;Sing So!
Copyright © Mary Braithwaite
The grey mist glissening on my brow,
as I step outside to a horrendous "MEOW",
hours of dawn,
and a cat lay slovenly on my back lawn,
wet, crystal, damp, lawn,
feline lay still,
for you couldn't hear a pin drop,
the dew lifted,
now the sun has risen,
happy cat no longer hissing,
for now all thoughts as to what is missing.
Copyright © Amanda Sullivan
Joe black Cat
black as the night,
gone in flight,
when you turn he isnt there,
locks dont hold,
the black im told,,
has buggered off orright,
brown snakes do run in fright,
cos the black he isn’t there,
and Halliwell tears his hair,
as Joe bestalks the night….
Take yer eyes off Joe and he's gone, tangled with a few deadly Brown snakes already,
wheres the antivennine hey.....
LORIKEET IS the owner of the black kitty
Copyright © DON JOHNSON
I lay alone in my bed,
Clutching my stuffed bear Ted,
The frightening darkness all around,
I do not make a sound,
I try to sit up and calm my self,
But something stairs at me from atop my bedroom shelf,
A pair of amber eyes blazing in the dark,
Then I jump because I hear a dog bark,
The eyes flash and I hear a thump on the floor,
The sound is very hard to ignore,
There is a thump on the bed,
I clutch even tighter my stuffed bear Ted,
I hear a purr,
I feel some fur,
And then I'm sure whats on my bed,
My stuffed bear Ted falls to the floor,
And I hold and hug the cat I adore.
Copyright © Christian Ball
Warm soft cuddles, on a cold dark night,
Warm soft cuddles, to help you see the light,
Warm soft cuddles, to snuggle up with, to feel their cute pink nose,
And their soft white fur, they kiss you with their wet tongue,
If you are in a bad mood, they sense it and answer with a soft meow,
That's just their special way of saying, "are you ok"?
Soft warm cuddles, I wish I could have just one,
A animal is the best therapy ever, they love you unconditionally, no questions asked,
Soft warm cuddles, a warm fury hug, that melts your heart,
That makes leaving the house so very hard.
Soft warm cuddles, shows you you are loved,
Soft warm cuddles, are you ready for one now?
If you are lucky enough to have a loving warm soft kitten,
Count yourself lucky, for they will give you all the love and cuteness you ever would want,
Soft warm cuddles, are the best, so take off the work shoes, cuddle up on the couch,
Empty your mind of the days clutter, open up your lap, for you have an appointment,
With a soft cuddly fury kitten Suzanne, enjoy the break, let go of the stress, open up your heart,
Here comes your friend, a soft loveable kitten, who loves you soooooo much,
Nonverbal communication is the best, be still, let go, and hug away, but one more thing I have to say, "Say hi, and remember to smile, never know who may be in need of a soft warm furry cuddle".
Copyright © Jennifer Donnay
Curiosity perhaps killed many a cat
For a cat it is an inquisitive brat
All life poor thing it shall rummage through trash
Spring on the dinner table and the diner might bash!
Famous might be a Tom cat for those famed nine lives
but not much help is that if in every danger it dives!
It's feline curiosity to crash-land it in trouble
for it tends to explore every kind of rubble.
Mr. feral puss for a fight and a wild-goose-chase.
Why forever look forward to yourself amuse and amaze?
In a cat basket he's likely to be struck with ennui
Perhaps his caretaker thought only of his fengshui?
His meowing screeching resonates in the valley
as he tussels with rival cats in the alley
Mr. Tom cat I tink I'll call you Mr. Sossy
but with feline femmes you're way too bossy
Wild and rough, with macho feral pride
I watch you tease and taunt in your typical stride.
No way is he kitty soft paws
Mr.sossy sure has the sharpest claws.
Sossy the tabby and fishy leftover fish pie
kissed the feline females and made them cry.
But my fav is my own cutie pussy darling so soft
even if she may raid the loft that's aloft
Copyright © S.zaynub Kamoonpuri
old novel with the author you
cant quite remember.
we can worry about it later
just like in the old days.
now tealeaf stimuli is twice as light in the city.
the somewhat unfriendly cat in the
bookstore on the corner seems disinterested.
watching a woman on the sidewalk
holding a wet paper grocery bag,
her arms wrapped around the bottom.
the bag is falling apart and the clouds are rolling
it will be dark soon.
we are falling apart and talking about heading
south into the high desert.
we pass the time by reading paperbacks that have
been soaked in mineral oil for days and
hardened under the sun.
we feel holy and then a little less holy.
your heavy sweater purchased at
a thrift store, the faint smell of mothballs
still lingering on the thick threads.
the cat has taken an interest in
your side pocket pulling with its claws and mouth.
soon the rain will cough up the paperbacks as well,
everything will change.
Copyright © nathan martin
The Ballad of Cat Ballou (Continued)
With her outlaw gang they're now telling a story of how she rode the plains.
The wildest gal in the old west since Calamity Jane.
She killed a man in Wolf City, Wyoming. Killed a man it's true
and that is why they'll be hanging her highness Cat Ballou.
The day has finally come. She's being sent to her glory for the way she sinned.
They'll be sending her soul on a wayward wind.
She has the smile of an angel,
but fights like the devil.
The eyes of an angel,
but bites like the devil.
The face of an angel,
I say she's the devil.
She's mean and evil through and through.
what's come over you?
You're mean and evil through and through.
She escaped and rode away,
on her hanging day.
Where is still a mystery,
but Cat rode into history
and her legend grew.
She was the Queen of the Outlaws,
Her Highness Cat Ballou.
Copyright © SillyBilly theKidster
The machine waits patiently
In the corner........
Like a sleeping cat
That ozone smell
It knows too well....
Crackle of static........
In the corner...
Like a sleeping cat
What is it thinking?
Muted lights ....
The Ghost in the machine
It knows, you are there
In the corner.......
Like a sleeping cat........
The Ghost in the machine
Sliding across the mat
Creeping across the floor
Crackle of static
Coming for me...........
Ghost in the machine
I cannot flee..........
This is not a dream
This is now, me..........
I have no place to go.........
Except inside the machine
To become it's host.......
The muted glow
Copyright © Matthew Brackley