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.
fetch a stick,
or scratch his neck
or care a lick
about a neighbor's cat,...
will prance around,
will tease and taunt
the weary hound,
who naps so sound
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.
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009
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
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
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
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015
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.
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
First Published in Cat Fancy, October 1984
Contest: I Love My Pets
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Contest: Animal Poem
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Contest: My Pet
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014
What lies behind that grimacing catty coy smile, it’s upside down
Thinking perplexes me mentally, topsy-turvy confusions beastly
Kitty, popping off riddles to confound all humanity’s realistic
Way of thinking!
Swishing his feline tail with utter cat flatting happiness, a word to the
Wise my dearest sweet Alice beware, for no kitty cat alive is truly a bundle of
Purring innocence, nay instead he’s a beguiling master of deceptions
Mischievous intentions gone aria!
Maybe this tabby cats stripped pajamas are simply pulled to tight,
Or he’s lost his tension strength that should attach its head down
Firmly to reality’s base structure, I’ve got no clue to solve this
One hundred mysterious questions does this none domesticated
Breed pose, with its contortioned clenched jaw drawn upwards, in a
Silly twisted expression of catus curiosity, by the hairballs finest thread,
What a complexity’s marvel of frustration is this creature, known as
The common housecat, lost in this distorted world of wonderland.
In illusions contrasting existence silvery whiskers fade in and out,
Leaving a smirking smiles reflection, as some delusionary remnant
Leavenings left behind him, as a giggling’s echo rings within the chilling
Nights air, causing a shivers quivering through your humanistic bones
Oh Alice in the queen’s court company, let caution’s judgement be your guide,
For within your mists lies a fury coated cat jester, whom simply wishes to
Cause total chaos, making her majesty to scream off with her head,
Obviously this is one cunning cat, whose missing a few cards short of a
Full deck stack!
Twinkle, twinkle cat eyed star, one has to ponder just ware mentally
Thou’est are, broken tea cups tossed upwards into mid-air, at a mad
Hatters tea party beware, for in the woods lies the Cheshire Cat
Grinning by moonlight’s tricky illumination, kneading at the twilight’s
Fading hour, spouting riddles at innocence golden locks child!
Joker’s wild this cat’s meow, the wonderland river card placed
Wrong side up, sneaky felis disguised in adorability’s fur-lined
Mockery of loving perplexity!
In the rabbits whole chase the hands of time do spin out of control,
As the swishing tail flicks three positions off-set to puzzle the ridders
Quest at solutions resolution, in the night hear the giggling echoes
Ringing, as the Cheshire Cat fades away, leaving last of all his grimacing
Smile behind, as a tautening reminders final haunting clue,
Does he really exist at all, guess!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
As my thanks to my sister POET DESTROYER
For the loving blog she did on my behalf thank you sis!
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2016
© Connie Marcum Wong
2. Snow Leopard
United Colors: Black and White Contest
Sponsor Silent One
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016
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
Copyright © Nigel Fawcett | Year Posted 2008
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
Copyright © RUDOLPH RINALDI | Year Posted 2013
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.
Copyright © Klim John | Year Posted 2014
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.
Copyright © Katherine Thwaite | Year Posted 2013
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.
Copyright © L'nass Shango | Year Posted 2009
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.
Copyright © mary benim | Year Posted 2010
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
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015
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.
Copyright © Erik Spector | Year Posted 2014
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.
Copyright © Erik Spector | Year Posted 2014
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,
Copyright © HONESTY OIMBO | Year Posted 2011
Cats all around
Playing with the yarn
So cute and pink
Copyright © Smail Poems | Year Posted 2013
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
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2012
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 paper 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 you would be a winner
of lotteries, sweepstakes, miraculous windfalls.
You subsisted on senior coffees at McD's,
on your pitiful government assistance.
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 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 comun." 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.
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2014
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.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013
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
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013
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
Copyright © Lucilla Carrillo | Year Posted 2013
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.
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013
I am writing this poem about you!
It’s not an easy thing to do
because I don’t know you.
But I know there are billions
of people on this planet.
Some will die while I write this and
while you read it others will be born.
Most have two arms,
two legs, and two eyes
one heart, one brain,
one mouth to speak with.
We are all the same.
People are people but
we don’t think alike.
Some of us love each other,
others hate everyone;
most do both unequally –
we choose what we think,
and we think differently.
You are the perfect subject for a poem.
You are the same as everyone
and like no other before you;
unique to yourself, exclusive to none.
You elude the common
and illude the extraordinary.
You are a homophone for the human race.
Are we not all homophones of each other?
A complacence to complaisance,
and effect to an affect, a tear to a tear,
the sole of a soul.
A homophone like you may be too
large a subject for one poem,
too complicated, too complex.
So, I will write about my cat instead,
a car ran over him yesterday
he is dead; and I have, in my fridge,
a half can of cat food in a plastic bag
useless and taking up space
and there is no homophone for that.
Copyright © Mike Samford | Year Posted 2008
left to right
brings bad luck
from right to left
Copyright © Uwe Stroh | Year Posted 2015
What would this fat lazy house cat ask for Christmas you might ask?
No squeaking cat toys oh no, forget those cat nipped laced
Mice’s too, for it’s a Garfield Christmas my friend and only natures
Perfect creation will do!
A five cheesed layered masterpiece, made deep style of course,
Waving noodles full of delicious meaty Italian sauce, what a
Marvelous combination to share on this tastiest of seasons,
Knife to the fork slice, I’m all in with this striped kitty, whose
Wearing a Santa Clause hat and a reindeer bib!
Oh forget that same old traditional meal of Turkish delight,
Or piggy ham, after all Thanksgiving’s feast just nailed all that
Stuff, right so why not live on the wilder side of the litter box
For once in your life, can’t you hear your taste buds calling,
For what the kitchen oven gods are offering!
Stockings hung by the chimney with care, in hope that
The Santa Chief would soon deliver, I’ve been an exceptionally
Good kitty cat this year, so I hope my request for extra bread
Sticks will be answered, says Garfield!
Oldie, Garfield’s faithful canine companion, does sits in front of the
Christmas tree fascinated, seemly transfixed by the flashing
Twinkle lights chasing each, drooling!
John is running all around getting ready for the big holiday to
Come, making sure all things are sparking and bright, for soon
Good old Chris Kringle will be arriving reindeer, sleigh and
His laughter’s seasonal Jolly, Ho, Ho Ho!
John calls to his companions it’s time for the reading of the
Night before Christmas, a time honored Davis tradition
In front of the fire place mantel all lies cozy and festive,
As John reads out loud this charming story to his beloved pets!
In the morning Garfield of course is the first to wake up
Smelling something extraordinary Italian, it’s Christmas
He shouts, tarring out of his kitty bed, he runs to the
Kitchen, all four paws on the floor!
But no one’s their John is still sleeping, what the blank
Garfield is puzzled, where is that smell coming from,
So he follows the scent that is calling to him, and their
It was on the side table, a dish of lasagna five cheese
No less, and next to this perfection deep dish style,
Was a large bundle of bread sticks!
A note next to it was single page note, just for Garfield
Enjoy your meal my friend, love Santa Clause,
Now this is Christmas Italian style!
John and Oldie awoke next coming down stairs to
A house blessed by the spirit of old Saint Nick,
Each got the gift that they were asking for, Odie
A bone half his entire body size, and John brand
New kitchen oven mitts!
This is my type of Christmas Garfield thought to
Himself, totally stuffed almost unable to walk, so he
Wallowed off to take a well-deserved morning nap,
Saying MERRY CHRISTMAS to all and to all a goodnight!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015
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.
Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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” *
Copyright © sarah seraphin | Year Posted 2011
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
Copyright © jim joyce | Year Posted 2012
~Cats And Frogs~
(The American Diamante)
Dorian Petersen Potter
Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2015