I love my cat.
She has 4 legs
and a tail
and nice ears
and a cute little nose.
She is gray with black stripes.
Her eyes are kinda green
I don't know what colour this is?
Her name is Bast.
This is the name of a very pretty cat goddess
who lives where the pyramids grew.
When my cat is happy she purrs.
So do I.
My cat is soft and warm.
My cat likes to eat food.
Right now I am feeding her special food for young cats.
She likes this better than the last stuff.
She eats all day long.
I do too.
If I become fat
or she becomes fat
I will cut down on our food.
My cat also likes to drink water.
So do I.
I got rid of her cat bowls.
Now she uses the same bowls I do.
I think this makes her feel extra special.
When my cat wants to play outside
she meows and scratches at the door.
This is how I know if she wants to play outside.
My cat poops in the neighbour's yard
so I don't have to clean her litter box too much.
I love my cat.
If I was a cat I would marry her.
We could have a honeymoon in the park.
I would dance around
and watch her climb trees.
At night my cat sleeps on top of me.
If she moves around too much
she wakes me up.
This makes me mad.
But she doesn't care.
She just looks at me.
And looks at me.
Then waits for me to fall back asleep
so she can sleep on top of me some more.
But I still love my cat.
Even if she makes me mad sometimes.
But only now and then.
She creates far more happiness than anger.
I suppose this is how it is for some married couples?
Cats are great.
I wish more people had a cat like mine
because then everyone else would be happy just like me.
One great big happy world
filled with peaceful thoughts instead of so much pain and war.
I hope she lives a long time.
When she dies I will get another cat
because they are so nice.
And when I die
I will meet all of my cats
up in heaven.
I love my cat.
And she loves me.
You walk through my thoughts
With the same sure-footed command
You walked through the house.
Your pitter-patter of feet
Pounds like a drum in my head.
No bowl in your special corner...
You thrive on the meat of my mind.
No wrinkles on my bed
Where your purring body slept...
Just my heart, crumpled
By the weight of your absence.
That flashed warmth like a smile
Now bring hot tears
To my eyes in remembrance.
My lap is empty and cold...
It cannot hold memories
Full and warm,
Alive with your image
And the comfort you were.
You walk through my thoughts...
And the pain of your footprints will pass.
© Sandra M. Haight 2014
All Rights Reserved
Contest: Animal Poem
Sponsor: Regina Riddle: Judged 9/30/2014
Choc A Little Or Chocolate With Kittens
Warm sweet chocolate, creamy smooth
Cools off in aluminum baking trays
Laid out on the kitchen table on display
Gentle little paws dip cautiously at first
Test the gooey surface
Kittens waste no time, become immersed in brown sauce
Soft fury white things, warm pink bellies, pounce
Jump at the chance for mischief in the deep sweet
Roll around in chocolate
Kittens lick their paws; make cute mew sounds with tiny lips
Unable to make mature meow inflections yet
Mother cat watches, stretches in a yawn, meows back
Helps them to master their language skills with another “meow”
As they mew some more, prance about, turning another color
By Carolyn Devonshire
casting my line from a rock jetty
sad, high-pitch cry I hear
glance around, see no one
cast again but the cry echoes
as if reverberating in the rocks
fishing pole I lay down
now searching every crevice
suddenly a wee feline springs forth
mewing alone atop the stone
from where she emerged, I look down
a litter of six cradled by their mama
so thin the mother cat appears
no food nearby and tears fill my eyes
return to my cooler, retrieving three trout
place them in the cranny
mama cat meows softly
no thanks were needed
feeding frenzy begins for the kittens
mama cat remains still, but purrs
providing nourishment for her clan
more important than feeding herself
wish the brotherhood of man could learn from mama cat
cries of hunger go unheard
*Entry for Michael’s “Sounds of a Cry” contest
Based on a true experience
The pendulum swings
(Left to right)
The vortex opens up…
With head spinning
My spin is heading
Towards your light
On the coattails of a watch and chain…
Tumbling down the word hole
From the wall of air
That surrounds me,
To consume later…
Too much later
As quixotic adventures
Tilt me away from my pen
And images of you burn ever deeper
Onto the backs of my eyelids
Am I losing you?
Am I losing me?
Do I exist?
Did I ever?
It seems I am always risking
The roulette wheel
Catches my fall…
I follow the white star
Onto the red
Where the tinker rings her bell
Smiling a Cheshire smile
Holding a blue-eyed pill in one hand
And a red-headed pill in the other…
The blue’s stare
Pierces my heart…
The burning flames of the red
Kiss the bleeding desire of my lips
Dissolving on my tongue
I am afraid to open my eyes
But, risking a glance downwards
The insane grin on my mad hat
Slips to cover Dorothy’s red shoes
That Alice stole from Robin
In Sherwood’s green forest
Now I am calm
As I enter your wonderland…
Melding with your mind
Dancing with your spirit
Swaying with your rhythm
Embracing all that you are
I am holding you so tight…
As the tears roll down my cheeks
The pull of never land
Tearing me from your bed of white roses
Back to the thorns on my bed of nails…
(Right to left)
The pendulum swings
came buzzing by
to rest and munch
and eat his lunch
and have some fun
on the hound dog's
The old dog
without a clue
in the noontime heat
of the August
by piles of leaves
in dappled shade
of the apple tree,
where an apple fell
and the flies said "yum"
and the bees would hum
and the dog would yawn.
to fetch a stick
or scratch his neck
or care a lick
about a neighbor's cat,...
who teased, and taunts
while pooch, who naps
Hound has no pep
to take a step
against his back,
and sticks her nose
up to his snout,
sticks up her tail
He hardly cares
that she is there.
She preens and cleans
her own black spots,
She stares at him
he stares right back,
with one eye open,
one eye shut
He'll stretch a bit
and scratch a lot
but it's too
not a lie.
the rain fell
dogs and cats
was late in coming
rolled over in bed
until a red
long haired cat
on my head
and my face
then a stray
mangy yellow dog
decided to play
chased Fred away
and decided to stay
his body heat
and I rolled over in bed
until a cool fat black cat
outside to the riverbank
Frank the cool fat black cat
started to scat
at the top of his range
at the edge of my bed
to my head
then Yellow and Fred
with guitar and bass
and played backup
while I played the bed
to save face
it was all
until my neighbors
who didn’t like our chops
banged a different tune
on the wall
and called the cops
they broke down
and took away us four
along with our instruments
less the bed of course
into a paddy wagon
it was in a cell
with a cot
that we realized that we were hot
and started our prison band called
me two cats and a mangy dog
You are a cat so cuddle like there's no tomorrow.
Sleep like no one is watching.
Purr like you're the King.
Stare as if you rule the world!
PS: This poem is dedicated for my cat Mingtos.
Lurching yet graceful ,the old black cat sets off.
Slowly he circles the edges of the garden in joy.
In the car ,though still in a shut basket,
He always knew when we came to the turning of the road.
Was it the cherry trees in blossom,a scent
Or something we could never be aware of?
I would open his basket in the car.
He comes out and descends so carefully
Onto the pavement,then tries to bound up the path,
The long wooded back garden is his total joy.
He would sit watching tiny frogs in a deep pond in the sun.
No doubt he longed to catch one.
He once brought a robin indoors,
The bird was completely unharmed.
Must have been his gift to me
We released it later after its shock had worn off.
Now he can only hobble,
And soon, his thinness warns me, he'll be gone.
No cat has ever loved or will love like this cat,
A rescued, terrified animal.
His eyes say everything to me.
I look into their clear-jewelled greenness
I look into a deep,still glowing sea of light.
The last day,finally, all day,he's on my knee.
And he's gone,just before tea.
Now the garden seems empty.
Love leaves a gap.
Love leaves us bare
Love leaves us stripped.
Yet Love is eternal grace.
A mystery of faith.
At 85, the old lady inches slowly
towards her living room
holding firmly to her walker,
her mind is sharp-as sharp as it's ever
Her legs have become weak
she can no longer see clearly,
any visitors who ring at her door;
nor can she hear them.
Her friends have all passed
leaving her alone,
the last remaining
At 15, the cat sits quietly in
the days of chasing balls and
have long since passed.
Her body aches with arthritis
and her kidneys are failing.
Reaching her chair, the old lady
slowly lowers herself
careful not to fall.
She raises the footrest
and covers her legs with the quilt
she keeps nearby.
Seeing this silent signal
the old cat moves across the room
and, with great effort
jumps into her lap.
The two, having grown old together
settle into the familar comfort
that each has come to know.
A gentle pet on the head,
a grateful purr
they close their eyes.
Cry Baby Cat,
was a stray that turned up
wailing outside our front door.
We never turn down a stranger in town,
especially when clouds
have gathered to storm.
Beginning to pour, I opened the door,
and we welcomed him in, as the thunder began
Well, he shivered, and wailed even more!
His coat was all wet,
like a little drowned rat
so I dried him, the best that I can.
We fed him a bit,
and settled the cat
in a box, filled with blankets, within.
Found a new litter box, and tucked it away
not far, where the kitty would stay.
We turned off the lights, but the thunder and fright
scared the cat, and he soon disappeared !
Right under our bed, .....so while poking my head
'neath the spread of the bed, I said "Here, kitty, kitty"...
and my heart had such pity, for the poor little fit he was in.
And that's how it began, scaredy cat had no friends
Till we fell head over heels till the end!
He was just a cry-baby....., and although we said "maybe"
he picked us back then, as his kin
For Francine's Contest: Beloved Pets 6/18/15
Poetry drips from cat paws
Out of drowsy sonorous sleep
Through the green slit
Of a blinking eye
That alone shows a profound
Of environment, and world
Creeping up in its fawn colored grass
To pounce from nowhere.
This cat that I cannot surprise
Takes me like play rag
Toy or rat
In its dripping mouth
And I going limp
I have heard the dog moaning too
While she walks above the roof
Looking down with a subtle smile.
The dog curls on the mat
Ignoring the majestic movements
I cannot shake the claws.
Cougar slinking through crevices
Of boulders forgotten by flood
Puma leaping through the fluid light
At the edge of night
Tiger forever burning bright
Lion in the caterpillar stage
There is a story in every rage
Cats cuddly cute unwind
Into vivid sheets, poetry dripping
From their tender paws.
A cat up on a tree.
Watching a dog barking crazy-
At the tree...
The cat laughing
At the helplessness
On the ground.
The cat up on the tree.
A dog on the ground-
Unable to climb-
The cat a witness.
As the floods
Sweep away the dog.
The cat up on the tree.
As the dog is drown
In the water-then,
I remember the day Trixie died,
Sinbad staring out upon her grave.
No crying, just day after day, homage.
I couldn’t stand seeing the pain,
Nothing I did, petting, holding,
Could bring him away from the grave.
So down to the pet store I drove
Hoping for a partner to please
And found a pair of cuddles, babies
Arms wrapped together in play
One black one orange which should it be?
Orange like Sinbad or black?
But how could I take one from another
Leave another hole, so black and orange
Babies two, drew Sinbad back over
To sleep the peaceful sleep of cuddles
Warmth from another, held like a mother
Or held like a father, Sinbad was mine
Once more we could live in happy cheer
Death deserted from our midst
When the wonder of youth appeared.
Set me adrift
Turn me right around,
That's where I'm going.
That's where I'm found.
Snakes to eat.
As all this retreats.
Spines in the river;
Sharp, hungry teeth.
Pass through the darkness
A clearing now nears.
Towering waterfall, loftiest trees
A Jaguar now glimpsed, into Jungle is seen.
Turn me right around
As rain clouds appear.
The Waterfall. Darkness. Too few sounds.
The others now listened, but I
Near the Jaguar was found.
Reflections of imperfections
have shown me a way
that I can move mountains
through my power of faith
even though I can't see him
I know he is real
through the power of prayer
and a Love that I feel
It's growing inside me
like a flower in bloom
shall I reveal my powers
or is it too soon
I am reading the signs
through my darkness I find
a reason for belief in
the light of mankind
that I know shall overcome
the greatest of odds
the Love I seek amazes me
especially through the flaws
because now I am inspired
through the hero's that bring
my throne through the darkness
on which I return on as your King.
Cats all around
Playing with the yarn
So cute and pink
Silent, hidden lurking
In the quiet, empty spaces
Floating, ancient Insect;
Turning droplet hazy. . .
Moving, breathing knowing
Another feline faces---
Hunger, further paw marks
Corners there to brace me.
Climb up to a tree.
Jump, tear, and tether.
Hold-fast, breathing, eating.
Reaping other meanings. . .
Stepping; other traces.
Spiders, monkeys, murky. . .
Sniffing, darkness, pausing.
Toying other feelings
Elusive, resting purring.
Other paw marks near me.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A curious drop of orgone dusk; making way to peek amid the curtains...
Hush the breath rising in slivers of delight; a manifold cat crowing
With blood dripping from the vine; candlelight shadows and the clock chimes
Black rubies twined atop pentagon lines; vanilla incantations of silk desires
Parting red lips to stoke this fire; deep the moans bewitching cradle
Resting now the dawn which waits; within her arms love set ablaze...
Nightfalls curious drop of time; beyound the curtains in that sublime
Whereupon her bosom it does lie; casting spells while taking tithes
In this my heart she surely knows; outside the window a proxic cat crows
Aneath blood and blue rubies dripping from the vine; such silk incantations...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
...“My Beautiful Bride's” *
Goldie, my peculiar but beloved cat,
has certain affectations --
she prefers, most times, her own society
and shuns her housemates.
But, sometimes, she cuddles
or will join the others
to laze around -- in the living room,
the dining room, a hallway, or
in the kitchen.
An inside cat who, early on,
suffered the indignity of
she asserts her independence
by darting into the front yard
when a door is opened --
and she pointedly ignores
any calls or pleas to come inside.
But when the door shuts
and no one is around, she is fearful,
immediately climbing up into the ash tree.
And there she stays
until I come to coax her down.
She may climb high up
and, finally, shakily manage
a descent to allow me to pick her up
and carry her back inside.
She never leaves the yard
but does enjoy ignoring me
when I am in a hurry.
She will dart about and run
from one side of the yard to the other.
For her, it's only an infrequent game.
And, as my treasured pet,
she certainly deserves to play
while testing the limit
of my affectionate, chagrined
As I sit just looking at the moon.
And I wonder are there others
like me way up there.
I admire the sparkling stars.
That give light to the night .
Sometimes I think I could
reach up and grab one.
Though I know not possible.
So here I sit and admire
this very pretty starry night.
After all, I'm just a cat.
Wed 3pm 7/ 10/ 2013
my desktop has a starry night & cat looking at the moon
Oh "darn" where did that cat get to ?
Did you ever have that feeling.
That you keep seeing something.
Just like out of your vision of sight.
That cat will sleep anywhere.
He makes me so darn mad.
You know just like in that movie.
You know that movie "don't you"
The name seems to escape me.
I'll be so late if I don't get a move on.
I really must feed my Tom Cat first.
He is always disappearing somewhere.
I really must go,,, my tea party is waiting.
I do wonder if the twins will be guest hosts.
Maybe he's ran down that rabbit hole again.
He's always playing these sorts of games.
Here you are , I have found you at last.
Silly cat ~ he was hiding under my hat.
1 27 2012 fri,,, 11pm
Poetry Challenge #12 on Temple, on another site, one of the guys always did challenges, this one he put up a pic of Alice looking just behind a curtain. This was my take.
Cat From Hell
Back in the day a young girl married an older man.
It was an arranged marriage. She spent most of her
time alone in the house. Her husband worked and
dranked a lot.
One day she found a little black kitten, she took him
home, fed him and from then on - he was her
companion. She loved him, but her husband hated him
cause he was always with her. He would kick him every
time he saw him.
The husband had already turned into an alcaholic. He did
not work much anymore, so he would take any money that
his wife was able to save. One day he met a wine taster and
brought him home. Right away the man liked the wife and she
liked him too. After that he would come over when the husband
went out drinkinfg.
Soon The husband's friend and the wife became lovers. one day
the husband came home early and found them in bed. he beat
them up, tied them to the wall, when they woked up, they saw
that he was building a brick wall around them. He was burying
The police were looking for the wine Taster. he was a famous
man. They heard he was friends with the alcaholic man and went
to his house. They searched everywhere. They went to the basement
and saw that everything was very clean. As they were leaving - they
heard a cat's MEOW and started tearing down the wall. The cat was
there with his master. The man thought he had commited the perfect
crime, but The CAT FROM HELL gave him away.... C/center>
Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo
The little boy in blue, with shirt of silk
Caused Mary Tuppet to spill her milk
When the cat came in to take a drink
There was a rat stuck in the sink
So the cat ate the rat that was stuck in the sink
When it came to drink the milk that was spilt
In the house the little pigs built
Mrs Hubbard dog chased the cat that ate the rat
That was stuck in the sink when the cat came to drink
the milk that was spilt in the house the little pigs built
Then the big bad wolf bit the dog that chased the cat
that ate the rat that was stuck in the sink when the cat came to drink
the milk that Mary Tuppet spilt in the house the little pigs built
Then a big brown bear chased the big bad wolf that bit the dog that chased
the cat that ate the rat that was stuck in the sink when the cat came to drink
the milk that Mary Tuppet spilt in the house that the little pigs built
A single horn
From the center of its forehead
Beauty in its essence
I Love the elderly
so full of history
I love my generation
who kept me a mystery
I love the children
who's future, now bright
for I have died for them
to capture the light
for i understand
pain more than ever
once I released it
the anger got better
as it went away from the people
and into my music
without a single
reason to prove it
without a reason
to let Love's light in
I didn't, it found me
and lesser I sin
God and my father
both let me know
it would all be okay
so very long ago
even tho the road
would be full of pricks
even back then I'd tell them
you can all suck my dick.
Not long before I put down my dirt filled hoe
Into my yard she quietly crept
It’s as though she knew I needed her cheer
She was rust colored and sadly matted cat
Not the most attractive feline I’d ever seen
But she was lonely and hungry, and in need
Of course immediately my Mothering instinct beckoned
She followed me to where I poured some milk for her
Not ever having a cat I didn’t have cat food on hand-
So I opened a can of tuna to her delight
She lapped it up and looked up at me with a smile
The next day there she was waiting and the day after and so on
I had found a friend
So I went out and bought some cats food
She was now mine of at least I thought so
Who could have ever done such a thing?
Leaving her to the streets?
I bought her flea collar and bells to wear
Soon she would just sit on my lounge chair waiting for me
I had to bring her into the house she still looked so frail
One day while she was eating I noticed her choking on her food
It continued so I made an appointment to see the vet
It had to be done anyway after all she was to be mine
While we had our visit and the saddest moment of my life came
The doctor said she had throat cancer and it was advanced
Our friend Tabby didn’t but a few weeks to live
So my husband and I made the pain staking decision
To put her to sleep
Tears poured from every corner of my eyes
“No” was all I screamed inside she had brightened my life
How could someone have left her alone?
The Vet felt the previous owner knew about her condition
They left her to suffer knowing she was so sick
I felt we at least gave her 6 weeks of love and care before she left this place
I will never forget the love and championship this rusty feline gave me
Months later my family and I adopted another cat Tabby showed us-
The greatest love and companionship that animals give you unconditional
We now have two wonderful cats that were adopted
They bring so much to our lives
Nopalero = one who deals with/sells nopales [edible prickly pear cactus leafs/pads]
Aiiiii, Jimmy --
what shall we say, now that you've gone,
worst fear realized: your body discovered,
days later, in your filthy Mexican rooms,
amid the soiled papers littering the floors
reeking of cat urine and layer upon layer
of dried and fresher feces.
These feral cats were your most faithful companions.
You thought yourself their benefactor
and, perhaps, their savior.
We were told that, after your demise,
when the door opened, all 21 fled,
never to return. You left us,
unbathed, smelly, shunned,
just weeks before your birthday,
having almost (but not quite) suffered
through 80 years, the last 30 spent
in bordertown Mexico. You, daily, crossed
the bridge to claim your mail -- which (for a fee)
promised to guarantee that you would be a winner
of lotteries, sweepstakes, miraculous windfalls.
You subsisted on senior coffees at McD's,
on your pitiful government assistance,
since you were unwilling to abandon your
You blamed your life on abuse by brothers
(all dead long before you)
and you could not understand
why richer acquaintances --
virtually everyone --
were unwilling to share with you
In the plazas, you were a familiar sight,
selling whatever you could:
you were "el viejo gringo," "el Jimmy," "el nopalero,"
and other less generous
(but, perhaps, appropriate)
You knew animals, had some expertise with birds.
Your chief preoccupation was yourself,
and your main complaint was that you
never got your just desserts.
But no one deserves to end
as you did --
unclaimed, a foreign body,
interred in Mexico
in an unmarked pauper's grave,
a "fosa commun." You only wanted
to be loved. RIP my friend;
I did not mean to be unkind.
James Milford Pierson, 27 February 1934 - 2 February 2014.
The sun shone brightly at last
On this breezy spring day
A black cat stalked a yellow bird in play,
As he stepped lightly across the fields of grass
Covered with dew , Alarmed , the bird flew
Leaving the cat with nothing to do
The sun shone brightly
on this breezy spring day
As the mouse appeared suddenly
through the field of grass
And once again the cat turned to play
Two majestic lords of the African Savannah,
Strike without cautions warning, or roar's announcement.
Nomads, prides outcasts, existing on the fringes edge of
Instinct's primal predators, golden phantoms, shadows
Haunted silhouettes passing in the night, casting eerie images
Against canvas tents, and fire lights burning embers.
On heightened senses of enticement, these living
Killers, smell their preys fear, thus so crossing the line,
Cutting deeply into man flesh, leaving bloody paw prints
Behind them, and giving birth to their own legend.
Translucent specters, blending mirages melting,
Within the tall grasslands scrub brush, as if creatures
Of illusion, brushed by the hot Massai winds.
Caddish yellow-green eyes, pierce through humanities
Nightmare realm, for in reality's harsh view, it cannot
Be real, these ghosts in the darkness.
Carnivorous hunters patrol, the devils backbone,
Known as Tsavo, skeletal bone collectors,
Relishing in their trophies prize, beware their talons
Man-eaters, rulers of this lost garden of Eden,
In the lions den, the bones of the dead scream in silence.
In this blood sports arena, these kings dominate over
The kingdom of men, dominion’s red cloak, is
Soaked in crimson's red, dripping freshly downwards
Towards hells cavern.
Mankind's greed, does drive this army of the walking dead,
Stalked by these feline demons, of the nights abyss.
Progresses iron horse must reach the African interior and
If poundage cost be in flesh and bone let it be so, paid.
Rushing waters forge, laid by steel rails bridge builder,
The holy architect whom carries, the long rifle of justice,
Assumes responsibility's heavy shovel, of the living dead's
Man vs. beast, teeth vs. bullets gunpowder, in the rising
Suns twilight, one shots sounding ends the fight, and alone
Lord remains to grieve for his fallen brethren.
In rages vengeance, the last warrior declares angers wrath,
And he is so slain by hail's gun blast.
But in Tsavo, the people still watch, for in legend, ghosts
Never truly die, yet remain hidden unto the hunger returns,
Beware, these ghosts in the darkness.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN