Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Death Cat Poems | Death Poems About Cat

These Death Cat poems are examples of Death poems about Cat. These are the best examples of Death Cat poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Hellbound

He's Sick into His own Hands,

The Sink is too Far, The Cats

Saucer is Closer.


He Washes His Hands and Face

As The Cat Laps Contently at 

His Liquid Disdain.


His Face is Red and His Breath

Seems To Leak out of His 

Mouth, in Thick Chokes.


The Mirrors Reflected Image,

Contains Vague Resemblance.

He Smashes it, His Knuckles Bleed.


A Mist Surrounds his Feet, and

Creeps up His Legs, Devouring

Cloth and Skin.


Delirious and Shaking He Allows

It To Envelop His Body Up To

Chest, Below, Just Bone.


The Cat Had Finished it's Meal

Of Bile and Pre-digestion. Their

Gazes Match...

          - Did it's Eyes Just Flicker Red ? -

The Mist hit His Neck, There was

No Pain, Just A Numbing, The 

Pawed Feline, Just Sat, Staring.

          - He Could Hear It... -

He Screamed at it To Stop

Deafening Him With its' 

Relentless Taunting.

          - It Winked... -

The Mist Now Just Below his Nose. 

That Stare... The Extended Glance

Never Broke....It Was Him.

          - Welcoming Him To The Other Side -

                                         - The Mist Consumes Him -





Details | Free verse | |

FOR FELISHA CAT

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.
Gold-green eyes
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
~First Place~


Details | Quintella | |

The Tiger In His Glory

 
A stealthy tiger stalks his prey
His eyes alight with cunning gleam;
And tho' the world may peaceful seem
The lissome springboks graze and play --
The danger lurks, not far away

He crouches low, his muscles taught
While calculations fill his mind
The perfect arc of force to find;
His quarry, still without a thought
Of what design the tiger sought

The tiger springs, the creatures flee
His mighty limbs with awesome force 
Perform their planned and deadly course;
Now lies the springbok piteously
Forever torn from things that be

And o'er his corpse presides the prince
His solid jowls bespecked with blood
His razor claws in crimson flood;
He glories in these trickling glints
That show his skill in ruby tints

And when the prince has et his fill
The birds descend to eat the rest
To feed the young ones in the nest;
But on the tiger roams at will
He's free to wander, hunt, and kill


Written on the twenty-eighth of July, 2013


Details | Free verse | |

The Mystery of a Strange Cat

As the mourners had left,the holy showers ceased.
Still, the drops of agony fell on from the eaves of heart.
Then a forlorn crow fluttered its wet wings.

The waif cats always roamed in the yard,
But that dark night, a strange cat prowled to the portico.
Its eyes resembled the father’s, who was cremated hours back.

Moss of home clung on its eyes, but there was no tongue in the cat eyes.
Yet,the silent symbols were so strong. 
At either side of the cat eyes, the father and the son stood helplessly.

Later, I heard the mobile barks, which chased the cat to a distant rural crematorium.
And that strange cat never returned.
But its mystery remains still with the urn.


 


Details | Couplet | |

Unknown

Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?

Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.

And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.

I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep. 

Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.

And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku 5 - mournful cries, way of nature, flight into eternity

mournful cries fill the air
mother bird calling for its baby
eaten by the cat

mantis catches butterfly
I am sad: yet, that is 
the way of nature

loud feathered thud
- flight into eternity
deceptive glass pane


Details | Free verse | |

Cuddle Babies Replay Memory

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.


Details | Verse | |

'Death Of A Bird'

A pretty bird Sang upon a fence Until a cat jumped to pull a wing down Sad little bird lay on the ground within sharp claws Trembling Struggling With no real hope Her feeble attempts doomed No more will I hear her sweet song on the fence Sadness Finished The cat moves on Close by a nest of babies wait Pretty bird looks one final time at the sky One last chirp Verse November 28, 2012


Details | Narrative | |

Cycle Of Life

They fight like two dogs after a female.
A cat and another cat for food, birds.
Becomes fodder for the Red Fox to pull
Feathers and chow down. Once half dead,
I put in can. Go to heavenly sleepness.
Leo got sick in new home, on to heaven.
Val - heart defect, needle shot. Gone.
And so on it goes, Caesar smoke. Slept.
Cremate, bury. Rise up to the gold gate.
I want to burn and sit on a white mantle.
Larry wants burn with ashes over Rockies.
Brother, mothers, father and grandparents,
Into ground, after productive life. Sleep.
Crops in the ground for all animals to eat.
Slaughter some. Feeds primates. Sweet meat.
So on and on it goes, in the cycle of life.


Details | Quatrain | |

Sandy Hook

Today, it just doesn't seem fair
That we are still able to breathe.
They have given us their air-
Our duty to lead the life they leave.


Details | Free verse | |

Scratching Baxter

When I left he was in his lounging chair

TV way too loud

The glow of discontent on his face

Made me want to cry

 

The only peace now in his life

Never left his side

He sat there scratching Baxter

Life just passed him by

 

In his day he was the man every man wanted to be

He had the looks, he had the job

The wife, the kids, all three

Then came the day he lost it all

His family went away

Left behind his loyal cat 

Baxter was his name

 

Through all times, most were bad

His cat stayed by his side

A comfort to his troubled soul

In life it was all he had

It has been said 

Man’s best friend

Has always been a dog

But in this case it was a cat

Whose love surpassed them all

 

I went to visit my friend today 

To see how he was doing

Knocked on the door several times

The TV was still blaring

Turned the knob and opened the door

I thought that he was sleep

But somewhere between the days he died 

In peace now he is sleeping

 

In his lap still sat the cat

Who had been his one companion

He knew his master had left this earth

His eyes revealed his sadness

I could not help but start to cry

When I thought of how it ended

Sitting at home with the TV on

All alone while scratching Baxter


Details | Rhyme | |

Old Tom ct

Old Tom cat.

Old Tom cat, he was so fat
Eating was where he was at
If he saw food he’d eat it too
That’s all he’d ever want to do
The birds of him, they had no fear
And mice would come so very near
 Tom cat he’d look at them and smile
Cause hunting, it was not his style.

He’s keepers were not acting cruel
They had no malice, not at all
They just liked to feed Tom cat
And when they saw him getting fat
They just over looked this fact
All discipline, this pair, they lacked
On themselves and Pussy too
So more and more fat he’d accrue.

Then all too soon, old Tom he died
His poor old keepers cried and cried
And now they have another cat
And even now, he’s getting fat
The same old story once again
From eating folk cannot refrain
And so poor cats they overfeed
It’s very sad, it is indeed.

20 April 2014 @1300hrs.

 


Details | Rhyme | |

Thanks For The Memories, Simba

We lost a very dear friend this past week.
Simba had become so very frail and weak.
He gave us so much joy during his 19 years!
We held him as he passed, shedding copious tears.

He was an extraordinary red tabby cat with no pedigree.
There were no blue ribbon winners in his family tree.
But he was as majestic as any winner in a feline show!
Oh, how we will miss him!   How we hated to see him go.

His ashes will be scattered in the mountains above Colorado Springs,
By the compassionate veterinarian who takes care of such things.
When we view magnificent Pikes Peak towering in the pristine skies,
We'll be consoled knowing that 'neath its shining crown, Simba lies!

There's a place called Rainbow Bridge where he'll be restored to health,
Where he'll frolic with other animals, teasing them with his feline stealth!
One glorious day he'll spot us 'mongst the multitude for a grand reunion,
And rain happy kisses on our faces as we tickle his tummy in glad communion!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved (24 October 2013)


Details | Bio | |

The Old Lady's Last Request

Over a time frame of about eight years we would talk about the chapters of our 
lives and listening intently to one another
She came from a small town in Texas and was an only child and was much closer to 
her dad than she was her mother
Usually we would talk in private, just her and me and her little cat named Abby
The little yellow furry cat kept her company and was also a little bit Gabby
Especially when it came time to have her dinner or to be let out on the porch for air
And no matter how lonely it may have been for her, little Abby was always there
So one dreded day the time did come for my friend to leave for the hospice, she 
turned her head on the stretcher and just said to me
I know you will take good care of little Abby
Not long after that she left this old world with the hint of content on her face
All was as it should be, everything was in place


Details | Free verse | |

Jimmy, El Nopalero

[Nopalero = one who deals with/sells 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 
feline family.
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
their bounty.
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)
names.
You knew animals, had some expertise with birds.
Your chief preoccupation was yourself,
and your main complaint was that you
never got your just deserts.
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.


Details | I do not know? | |

My cats death

Filled with no more than a breath of warm fresh air,
 exhausted, he dies
His last breath, heavy and sullen, 
pours out from between his cherry pink lips
Flowing down the sides of his, light blue blush cheeks,
 constantly licking its way down
From there it flows about the floor in desperate need of human muzzle
Dragging itself from here to there and spreading itself out thin
When it came upon a sleeping cat, 
with no remorse of stinking foul, crept inside its nose
The cat wakes, places several masks upon its face,
 then blows it right back out
The breath, lighter now, 
finds hope in only death and dies
The cat perplexed can only sigh.


Details | Free verse | |

Grieving

a thousand times I call your name
throughout the day
like I always would

you'd come frolicking around the corner
always making your way
to me

a thousand times I swear I feel you
brush up against my legs
like you always would

a thousand times more
I forget your gone
because you should be here
not there

but I know it's an oasis
one where your lungs are restored,
your breaths aren't shallow
and you're eating all of the tuna in the world

a thousand times I swear I wake up
you next to me
on the other pillow

I can't help but sleep against the wall
afraid I'll roll over on you

and then I wake up,
pillow bare
no indent
and the reality takes toll
a thousand times I've prayed for your soul

but in the end,
I'm alone


Details | Rhyme | |

Little Dog Blue

Dog felt down, he never smiled anymore.
“I bet its because you're a bore!”
said Freda the Frog.
“Maybe,” said Dog.
So Frog did a trick, to make Dog smile.
And it helped him, just for a while.
“Oh, Dog, why are you blue?”
“I don't know Frog, I wish I knew.”

The next day, Dog could not grin.
Without a bark, he let the Cat in.
“What's this ol boy, you won't say hello?
What's gotten into you, my dear fellow?” 
So Cat led dog on a merry chase
But he soon saw his efforts were a waste
“Oh, Dog, why are you blue?”
Dog sighed, “I don't know Cat, I wish I knew.”

All of the night, Dog laid there without scratching a louse.
He was beginning to worry, Mr. Whiskers, the house mouse.
“Good heavens,” said he to Kitty Cat, “He doesn't even groan.”
“But what's the use, without a good bone?”
So he found a turkey leg in the ice box.
And dangled it in front of Dog. “Have I the pox?”
“Oh, Dog, why are you blue?”
Dog shook his head, “I don't know Mouse, I wish I knew.”

“Listen,” said Polly the Parrot. “I know what's the matter.”
“He misses his master, Miss Hatter.”
The animals then grinned, not all was lost then,
For perhaps with this information, he would smile again.
So together they conspired, to find the missing mistress.
They searched the house, from floor to tress.
But all they found was Mr Hatter, but he missed her too,

“Where are you, where are you, Miss Betty Boo?”
Polly said to they, “Now you know it's true,
She's gone away, our master is blue.
When is she coming back?”
Dog said, “I wish I knew.”


Details | Narrative | |

I KNOW IT'S NOT SO

I know it is not so
but I have the clear feeling
that at any moment
you will open the door
with your noisy key ring,
and I will hear distinctly
the off-key sound
of your slow and heavy steps
that no longer drag slowly
through my living room hall
which is now silent,
mute in its halftones. 
I know it's not so
but you will put down your bag
stuffed with papers in confusion,
on the table set for two
even though we are four,
but two of us will be in the bedroom
and won't want to dine, but
we will steal from your plate,
and you'll get upset
but you don't know how to fight,
and the argument will end with the providential
increase in the volume of the television,
that now is full of silly programs
because nothing is fun anymore.
Life drags on,
empty in its own apathy. 
You will talk about your day,
and you'll ask about ours,
and I'll be in a hurry,
going out to some rehearsal.
I'll shout that I can't right now,
that tomorrow I won't go out
and in the morning, making the strong, black coffee,
we'll talk about the script,
you'll give me some ideas 
I'll love to slip into the context
althought now this actress
no longer cares how she performs
because the fantasy is gone,
the scene has no more magic
and just repeats itself alone
on the stages I no longer trod. 
You'll ask,
and I'll help you put on your socks
having you sit on the bed
while our cat snores
in a light ending sleep.
Yet, you'll play with me
in your special way
that makes any single day
seems like Christmas,
with your salad sauce
that no one any longer tastes.
The 25th hides its face
at midnight, Jesus is not born
and the miracle is not the same. 
On Valentine's Day
you will buy two roses,
one of them you'll give to mom
and the other one is always mine
for I'll always be your little girl
who doesn't have a boyfriend anymore,
who has no joy, and
who counts the hours of the day
just to know the day has gone. 
I know it's not so
but I'll see you at any moment
when I lay my eyes
on our garden,
missing your confident hands
pruning its dead branches
like now it is dead our house. 
And like me,
our cat waits for you
every night at eight o'clock
under the doorjamb,
on the rug in the hall,
to say you are welcome,
to be happy you are home,
but our expectations fail,
for your arrival is delayed,
you won't arrive at all,
and there's no more future
for there's no more noise
of your key ring in the knob.


Details | Diamante | |

E is for Ecto

Maud dreamed by the fire, her blue eyes half-closed,
While a grey cat on a grey mat beside her reposed.
Then she wakened and watched as the fast-falling snow
Was whipped into drifts when the sad wind would blow.
The moments that make up a life span are fleet,
Passing by with the stealth of a kitten's soft feet.
Since then, many winters this old earth has turned,
And I can't even guess when the last embers burned.
But where the hearth warmed, a computer now stands,
And someone's been typing with very cold hands
And piling spreadsheets on a table all day
On the very same spot where a grey cat once lay.
You're alone, so stop turning -- you won't find a trace
Of the blue eyes and smile of a little girl's face;
But when winds start moaning and driving the snow,
Maud may send you a ghost-mail from long, long ago.


Details | Narrative | |

THE STRANGE STORY OF JOHN CRITCHEN'S BIG WHITE

“Long time na see    Jim”

“Yip    Long time na see    Jake”

“D’ja see?”

“What?”

“John Critchuns ‘n that danged Big White o’ his”

“Caint say as I did”

“They oughta be a law ‘gainst brangin’ cats inta tha saloon

But he’s niver without his dang cat

Don’t care ‘bout tha law

Men in here should cumplain

‘Cep John’s mighty fast on tha draw”

“Yip”

“That thing’ll walk around    top a poker table

Flashin’ them big white teeth    hisssn    yet

Dang thing’s sa careful not ta spill a chip

Niver seen tha like”

“Oh yeh?”

“He’ll perch on John’s shoulder    lick his ear

Don’t bother John none”

“Hmmm?”

“Niver seen no cat sa big    sa white    sa downright mean

Meanest cat I ever seen!

Whatcha lookin at me thata way fer?”

“Hmmm?”

“Ya keep scratchin yer head”

“Yip   

It’s strange”

“What’s strange?”

“When’s tha las time ya seen Big White?

“Why    jis las night    why?

“Member tha gun fight six weeks ago

When tha Deeler boys held up tha stage out near Castle Rock?”

“Yip”

“Weel    I was there

I was there when John Critchuns and Big White saved tha day

Big White went fer Luke Deeler jist as he uz pickin at the money box lock

Critchuns drew on Luke too

Then Pete Deeler brained Big White ith a rock”

“Dead?”

“Damn sure!

Caved in his friggin head!”









Details | Free verse | |

Moments Relived

infectious decay
of old age
promising ritual
but I can't comprehend

why you left so fast
parted your bony corpse
that precise fur
gleaming fall coat
the black and orange-
a contrast so unique
so perfected

why does age creep up-
eliminating your organs
toying with your mind
into accepting the fate-
death

and though each death withholds happiness
smiles are forgotten
we use the muscles to avoid tears-
those that are supposedly helpful to endure

my friend my pet, my sidekick
waking me up throughout the nights with a purr
4 am tortured me

but now I lye awake at 4
awaiting your purring- your presence
How do you move on when they become a part of you-
an pure unconditional love


Details | Rhyme | |

The Life of a Mouse

Oh, there it is.
A perfect dinner 
for me and my kids.
This slice of holey cheese
no one will miss.

It lies on the rock
a long ten feet away
and though you may find this a shock,
for me life means danger.
You’re lucky; don’t talk.

I look carefully around
but once, twice, three times
nothing in sight but a mound
of hair; maybe leftovers from a hawk.
The coast is clear so I pound
my way over to my dinner.

Cheese, cheese, glorious cheese!
I’m closing in, about to claim it.
Oh! But a screech causes me to freeze
perfectly still from terror.
And out pounces a cat with claws as sharp as a bee’s
stinger.

“Felicity,” it hisses.
“Juicy mouse, you’re perfect
for the dinner I almost missed.
Come here,” it says.
“I can’t resist 
such deliciousness.”

I silently say goodbye
to my kids
and with a little sigh
I think to myself I could never outrun
this nimble cat so I’m about to die.

I wait for death with my eyes squeezed shut
but nothing comes
and I open my eyes to see the butt
of Seth, the farmer’s kid.

He’s scooping up the moody cat
and while he’s turned
I scurry away, shivering with fear and relief from that
near death of mine.

What a shame.
That cheese was almost mine.
But surely I’ll be showered with fame
from my kids, at least,
for my luck that Seth came.

I hurry back to my house.
I’ll live to see another day.
Oh, the life of a mouse!


Details | Ode | |

Beloved Companions -part 2-

To every happy memory, there are sad ones that hit just as hard
 And the sadness began when I looked at his side
 To see a large lump there
 I wasn't as worried as I should have been… 
Everyone thought Pentecost would be okay
 For our other cat survived a thing like this on her own 
She had bitten the lump off herself 
Puss oozing out…and she had healed with no problem 
This lump was different… 
I cringe because it was wrong for us to wait
 He began to grow thinner… his eyes began to look sad
 He no longer ran from the window to the laundry
 He no longer jumped into my dad’s lap for a pet
 He didn’t even eat, and that was one thing I thought he would never give up…
 Dreamy, but sad, I looked at him opening a can of his favorite meal
 I wished there was something more to be done for him
 I begged my parents to take him to the vet 
Because I sensed it would soon be too late 
My mother kept saying he would be fine in due time
 But in a matter of two weeks my mom surely knew
 And she was the one to say it… 
She said softly, “I think he’s going to die”
 I held him on the less tender side of his body near my bed 
Tears building in my eyes
 I didn’t want Pentecost to suffer…
 I wanted him to live life and be his happy self… 


Details | Free verse | |

Reflecting on My Pooch

I remember when you came to me,
a slinky sleek bundle of fur and muscle,
dashing, daring, purring, and pouncing,
testing the limits and the patience of all,
playing in the morning, playing at night,
sliding on the carpet,
never sleeping, never stopping,
energy incarnate.

You burned so brightly in my life,
lighting our world with toys and tests,
talking and jumping,
clawing and pouncing,
nurturing your elder,  nurturing me,
comforting and consoling,
kissing away tears and trials,
loving always,
soothing and slinky.

You grew and grew,
first up, then out, so round,
so happy, 
laser pointers -- who cares,
contentment in a jolly round ball,
with your big belly inviting the pet,
the rub, the snuggle, the cuddle,
my pillow, my gentle living big and warm,
pillow.

Toy mice as babies, carried through the house,
surprises in my shoe,  was that a joke,
laughing at me or laughing with me,
slipping on your gifts,
midnight tripping on the dark floor lump,
not malicious, laughing with me I decide,
with delightful sparkle eyes,
surprising grace,
embracing life. 

Years pass and you burn less brightly,
sixteen candles and nine lives gutter,
the weight falls away, the attention span,
bones and skin, but always love,
always pur, happy to be,
my friend, my buddy,
my cat named dog.
Your flame fades,
and I miss you already, Pooch.


Details | Rhyme | |

meth

life is death so i just toke that bag 
of meth and now im all set . for a O.D 
blouldy death . im crying on the set .


Details | Elegy | |

My Cat

Our Joe's died
20 Years I had our Joe
And then she died
My baby got sick
My baby was in pain
It's just a cat
But I pleaded with god
Make her well again
She wanted my bed
I'd sleep on the floor
She could have asked for the world
I'd have given her more
She lived my life
All the years with me 
And even in pain she stayed by my side
Then she asked me
By the look in her eyes
I'm tired I hurt
Please let me go
And it's just a cat
And I had to let her go
But my hearts broken
So dont try to tell me
That it's just a cat
Cos it was my cat 
My cat and I know


Details | Free verse | |

Unreal

The black cat leaps across the road
It's worst enemy snapping at it's heels
Thud
Wounded cat pulls itself across the white line
Too late, hind legs dragging lifelessly behind
Half filled with life and the will to survive
Half dead and broken
Struggling to survive, his blood spills as does human
Life leaks out

The body lies in ICU
The life still beating through her
The life, machines provide
Thoughts are gone
Mindless, nothing
As good as dead
The life is pumped in 
Unreal

Serial killer caught in the act
Fighting, struggle
The priest grasps hold on the gun
The killer is dead
Long black robes rustle in the wind
Praying over the body
The priest's cross breaks from his neck
Lands on the bloodied dirt
Gods work with Satans sword
The Child is saved


Details | Narrative | |

The Cat

The cat fell off it's high horse,
it's course of flight only pointed down.
Screeching a sound while it was dragged,
a body bag would be necessary.
But the cat was struck by lightning,
and a single yelp for help issued from it's mouth,
cat monthly front page.
But even though it died twice,
it still lived to tell the tale,
but lost it's tail.
The cat got rabies at the vet,
passed from some god forsaken rabbits,
and had to be put down.
But before it was buried and laid to rest,
it pried open it's eyes and ran for freedom,
leaving a baffled doctor behind to try and comprehend what aspired.
And in it's flight it ran a red light,
and became a rubber guard for a semi's tire.
And even though it died twice more,
it still lived to tell the tale,
and was without a tail.
The cat flailed to free itself from 8 sets of winter tires,
and landed in a desert,
where it ironically drowned in an oasis,
and more ironically was food for the fishes.
And though it died twice more yet again,
it lived to tell the tale,
but was still lacking a tail.
Waking up not yet ashore,
middle of the ocean the cat was bound,
unfound yet by all past owners,
alone it made a raft,
and like a grill,
the cat fried alive,
but before it could be claimed by the sea,
some deep sea fishers caught this cat-fish,
fried and ready for a dish,
but sympathy was on it's side,
and the fishers couldn't let it die,
so they nursed it back to health.
The owners took the cat home,
and spoiled it rotten,
even giving it a tail,
before it rotted in it's mind from a lack of adventure,
and hung itself with a cat toy over it's scratching post.
And although it died twice more,
and had a tail,
it forgot,
it also had one more life,
and awoke just in time to escape a box set for six feet deep,
to go retire it's last life in peace.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Buster was the best

(This is a true story)

Buster was my cat and he was the best.
He died this morning and I'm depressed.
My cousin gave him to me and I was happy to get him.
He was a loveable cat and I'll never forget him.
I got him in 1996 when he was just a kitten.
When I saw him for the first time, I was smitten.
It was hard to say goodbye.
His death brought tears to my eyes.
He was solid white and he was fat.
Today I lost a truly wonderful cat.


Details | I do not know? | |

You killed my son's cat

(This is a fictional poem)

You got revenge when you killed my son's cat and now you're going to pay.
You did it because I used to steal your newspaper everyday.
You knew when you hurt my son that you'd hurt me too.
I'm going to make you regret what you've put him through.

When he buried his cat, it was painful for him to say goodbye.
Eversince that day, he's done nothing but cry.
Stealing your newspapers was wrong but killing my son's cat was far worse.
What you did was horrible and it can't be reversed.

You didn't know that another neighbor saw you kill the cat.
We're going to have you put in jail for that.
After you're locked up, I'm going to sue.
You hurt my son and now I'm going to hurt you.