the season I turned eleven
was the season that I died
there'd been blood betrayal and famine
and I thought I had survived
my neighbor killed my kitten
and for that I could not cry
my mother went to handle it
told me to stay inside
i sat poised in an armchair
trying to calm my mother down
while I could feel nothing
we knew she'd made him drown
the woman was a laundress
washed other people's clothes
didn't like the stink of pig sties
it offended her frail nose
the wash-board on the right side
where the pigs did have their homes
was the one she always gave me
like the left one was her own.
only when a pig was hanging
would she demand to trade
i'd wash next to a hog's corpse
a choice could not be made.
then one day I got angry
and I dared to move her clothes
i moved them to the right side
as the rage inside me rose
the woman tapped my window
and said your cat is dead
it was two days before Christmas
she roused me from my bed
there was display of feeling
tears could not be be shed
gray fades to black
hello sadness my old friend
Copyright © Lucrezia Blanche Aguilar | Year Posted 2006
Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
My Mother caring about all five in different ways
Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays
My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John.
music a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !
Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
The music takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "
My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food
the yelling , slamming of doors , tempers Flare , passion
Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?
Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee
No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
the Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .
Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
Excited in Chicago ! seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
Cubs , museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `
Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones ,
scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
~ That is the Family I Love ,
that is the Family I choose to miss ~
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
He was sitting cross legged at 15th and Market
The people would walk around him during the workweek
He sat chatting with his cat
The cat was named Mr Johnson and they were friends
The man had skin cancer on his nose in the form of a bloody mole
And there were days when he sat talking with the Mole
The Mole would chastise him saying,"If your mother could only see you now."
"If my mother could see me now it would be a miracle,"said the man
The man's mother had been dead for over 20 years
The Mole loved to get his back rubbed but the man was tired
So the Mole gave him the silent treatment
And Mr Johnson reached up and scratched the mole
"You musn't be mean to the man or I will not feed you Mole."
The Mole apologized to the Man
The man decided to tell the Mole a story and cat would add parts
He always added parts
There once was a flower
'It stood near a Disco tower, "added Mr Johnson
Its petals were yellow
"All good moles shout hello,"sang Mr Johnson
And the policeman was shaking the man and his mole
"Move along buddy."
Attempt at Burlesque
Copyright © Patrick Cornwall | Year Posted 2012
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
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
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013
Laying there, was not all he
sleeping alone, was not all he
dreaming of his young self, was
not all he did,
crying for you, was not all he
staring into space, was not all
wanting your love and
attention, was not all he did,
purring in your arms, was not
all he did,
making you worry, was not all
having a lions heart, was not all
imprinted love in your soul, was
not all he did,
letting you hold him until he
was gone, was not all he did,
leaving fond memories for your
heart, was not all he did,
letting you say good-bye, was
not all he did,
sharing all this and his love
is what all he ever did.
Copyright © Ryan Jackson | Year Posted 2011
My cat is so lovable she really makes me humble
She loves to play and cuddle and roll around and tumble
She can look into my soul with those oh so seeing eyes
What does she feel as she licks and cleans her daughter?
I can only say its love, what else?
I watch her as she sleeps, I can see that she dreams
I know she is a soul, just like you and me
Please keep in mind this simple token
That we are all part of God and the chain cannot be broken
Copyright © Colin James Platt | Year Posted 2015
Already tiny kittens interprets love Mother's voice purr-fect bond
For Leonora Galinta's contest, "Write Me A Poem...Picture Prompt ( cat and her kittens)
Copyright © Connie Gildersleeve | Year Posted 2013
Silly kittens made of fluff
Pouncing, sliding, snagging stuff
Butterflies that float on by
Out of reach but still they try
Rolling wrestling cotton balls
Soon so tired from their falls
Lying down with mommy purring
Not a kitten soon is stirring
Copyright © Rick Zablocki | Year Posted 2013
You Are not My Mother
This is a house of cats and these are the rules that must be followed:
•You are not my mother.
•I am allowed to sit or lie wherever I want.
•Just because I don’t have thumbs doesn’t mean I can’t open any door I want if you don’t latch it well.
•When I knock, let me in immediately—it is imperative or I wouldn’t be knocking.
•I want clean water and fresh food twice a day.
•I don’t like a dirty litter box or a change in litter brand so keep it clean.
•If you must let that whinny dog in, keep her away from me.
•I do like your computer, so keep the keyboard out where I can use it.
•Yes, I must accompany you to the bathroom.There is water in there and it is dangerous.
•Bedroom rules:I must have access at all times especially if you’re sleeping.You could stop breathing so I must arouse you often by placing my cold nose on your face and walking up and down your body.I sleep on top of your head to keep your soul from leaving in case you stop breathing.
•Please interpret “I” to mean “WE” and apply to all the above rules.
•Make that girl cat play nice and quit sending rude telepathic thoughts and calling me names.Well you start it. I do not! Oh yes you do.I do not. Poe, whose side are you on. Well she doesn’t hiss at me. She is racist and so are you. Just because I am a different color, you both ignore me. You won’t let me join in your games or lie with you at nap time.We are not racist.You are paranoid.No I’m not. Yes you are. Am not. Are too. And so goes chaos with cats.
Copyright © Sharon Edwards | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
WHAT YOU HAVE HEARD IS TRUE. the night was like every other, different than the ones before. i was standing so still in the dark house. father comes home from work, the bar; he is drunk. mother sits nearby watching his every move. she was trained not to say a word. stumbling around, he rants and raves. i bring him his dinner as he flips through the channels. he settles on a tv show, one he watches every night. i back out of the room, trying not to draw his attention. he mutters to himself about his job, NO ONE RESPECTS HIM THE WAY HE DESERVES TO BE RESPECTED. BY GOD HE WILL BE RESPECTED IN HIS OWN HOME. mother carries his tray away with shaking hands. he notices her cautiousness and sneers at her back. she is washing dishes now, glad that she is out of his view if only for a moment. he calls me back into the room: he wants a drink and he wants it now. the cat winds her body around my legs, making me slow on my feet. i gently nudge the cat out of the way. father notices and looks at me sharply. he pushes me back as he gets up and leaves the room. he walks to the kitchen. i take over washing the dishes. mother needs some rest. he looks closely at the ones already washed and picks at some imaginary stain. THESE ARENT CLEAN! he throws them to the floor; he sweeps the whole counter to the floor. he empties the cupboards and pushes all the dishes to the floor. i start to cry but a look to mother stops me; her eyes plea silently to be still. i cant make a sound as father rants and raves about dirty dishes that are clean. bowls and silverware are strewn across the floor; some make faces at me. their eyes are empty and wide, mouths a jagged line trembling as he stomps across the floor. he kicks a face and picks up part of its mouth; he throws a fork at me. it lands with a sharp scratch in the sink. i duck just in time. water spills everywhere. father storms out of the kitchen. i look down and see the faces on the floor; some of the faces are crying, some of the faces are laughing.
Copyright © Germaine Elliott | Year Posted 2011
It was an early September storm,
Jackson the Pug, didn't have a thing to do
so he found an old comic book
about a Super Hero who wore a cape,
He climbed up into his favorite easy chair
and began to read,
or should I say,
look more so at the pictures.
it didn't take long however,
before Jackson began to get sleepy
he took a deep breath, and sighed
and fell into a comfortable sleep
Then he began to dream!
He dreamed of being on a roof top,
and he heard,a terrible noise from the alley below
he poked his head over the ledge and saw
A huge Rottweiler, had a Mother Cat and her kittens cornered.
Jackson, without thought, sprang into Action
down the fire escape he ran, his red cape
aloft, trailing him, with a circle with the
Big letters SP in the center of it
The last landing, had a roll down ladder,
but Jackson leaped the last fifteen feet,
Super Pug, Canine Super Hero took flight
In a flash, he landed between the Rottweiler and
the Cat family.
he quickly turned, and glared at the Rottweiler
and said" Large Canine Evil doer, I am Super Pug
you will leave these citizens alone, and leave,
or your fate shall rest in my Paws"
With this the Rottweiler began to howl,
" Little flea, it is you who will leave or,
I will eat you as an appetizer " another howl
as he began to inch towards Jackson.
"You were warned" snarled Jackson, "Now meet your fate"
Thwap! Pop! Smack! Howl! Smack! Thud!
Jackson moved like lightening, his cape a blur,
the dust settled, the Rottweiler was down and out
" Oh Super Pug" said the Mother Cat,
You're my Hero, and licked his face.
just then, Jackson woke up from his little nap,
with a blanket, just like his cape covering him!
With Janice Pug, his wife, licking his face!
Copyright © Richard Pickett | Year Posted 2011
She just appeared one winter’s day,
A little cat from nowhere.
I tried my best to coax her in,
To give her food and care.
She stood her ground, just out of reach
As I filled up a dish
With feed from Tiger’s ample stash,
As much as she could wish.
Waiting until the door was closed
She ate all she could hold,
Then turned and went beneath my deck,
Her fortress from the cold.
It went that way all winter long,
At the same time every day,
She’d come until she had been fed,
Then turn and slink away.
Though Tiger and I worried lots,
The stray cat was doing fine.
Whenever I filled up her dish
She’d be right there to dine.
The winter waned, the warm spring came,
I knew her woes were over.
With sun to warm her frozen bones
She would live her life in clover.
One morning to my great surprise,
There were two kittens there.
One was all white and one was dark,
They were a handsome pair.
After breakfast she licked both of them
‘Til they were shining clean,
The most devoted mother cat
That I had ever seen.
How did she learn the lessons
That she teaches them today,
When she is so disadvantaged,
Just a lonely little stray?
She coaxes them to lie down
In the sunshine on the deck,
Then lays right down beside them,
Holding them close to her neck.
I run to take a picture
Of the scene so sweet, I cried.
The three of them together,
Mother love personified.
For Leonora's contest "Adorable Picture"
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2013
This may come as a surprise to quite a few
But if you're a pet lover it won't to you
This sweet soul watched over my mom In her final days
She brought her comfort and warmth In so many way's
She's not a doctor or nurse she's not any of that
Her name is Destiny my little white cat
Very sensitive and smart
Small of body but big of heart
This may seem hard to believe
She knew when mom had pain to relieve
Often she knew it long before us
She would try to tell us by making a fuss
When she knew that mom was going to have a bad day
She would not leave her room by her side she would stay
Some religions call them familiar's they're considered a treasure
They see between worlds with a love beyond measure
So when you get old and your days are coming to an end
Rest assured you'll be loved By your little four legged friend
Copyright © John Berryhill | Year Posted 2013
When she walks, the whole forest is stalled When she attacks, any prey is felled
When she is seen, any animal gets scared When she roars, every prey gets feared
No prey is dare to meet her eye As none desires to say to life, bye
Her teeth is needle-sharp On holding the prey, authority she may usurp
Same teeth she uses, to hold up her cup Now it works as if very tender, with a tactful holdup
The cups are irresistible The mother is responsible
The cups know, she is not the other The lioness knows pretty well here, she is the mother!
Above poem is adapted from the eBook “EAGLE EDUCATES ENDURANCE! AND OTHER POEMS ON NATURE ” by Mr.V.Muthu manickam. Copyright is held by V.Muthu manickam.
Copyright © V.MUTHU MANICKAM | Year Posted 2015
Just like football I am trying to reach the goal
Zigzagging down the field of life to keep from getting bowled
It is first down in the morning as that whistle rocks my head
Just a little button hook to get me out of bed
I am tackled within three steps as my son bursts through the door
His sister went long with his mobile phone to even up the score
I coach them how to play together, not to scream and shout
Both are yanked from the game for a personal time out
At ten AM in the second quarter I think I am gaining ground
The dog intercepts a pass by the cat to turn the game around
Racing out the patio door that dog and cat did mesh
It cost the dog a bout in his cage for unnecessary roughness
Halftime brings the team together to analyze performance
After lunch we play again to make good a second chance
The clock winds down with end zone in sight, dinner takes a tumble
An audible I had to call because the cake I fumbled
And finally in quarter four, the game down to the wire
A revelation that no one else could manage this empire
Though touchdowns are sweet in life, one thing I came to know
Sometimes to win the game at hand you only need a field goal
Copyright © Randy Steele | Year Posted 2011
A Lioness Roaring under her Roar
Stalking her prey upon natures paws
Deeply secure with a keen eye
She also has a Lions Pride
No fret to defeat
Confronting her enemy
In a disarray, climbing up the food chain
Beauty within her Lions main
She guides her cubs so they could find
All the things they need to survive
Giving up isn't the look in her eyes
Until that day she dies
^^^^^^^A Lioness Pride^^^^^^^
Copyright © Tiffany Diaz | Year Posted 2015
I know a place where many people would like to visit but cant. I know a place where a lot
of people don’t know I go. I go to this place when no one can get a hold of me. This place
is full of music, it got vivid bright colors. The music plays all the time. I have a
husband with no face and kids with no faces. But lately those faces are blurry. Getting
clearer, at least for the husband it does. The colors though, bright and beautiful, show
all the meaning in this place I go to. The blue so blue that its bluer than the ocean.
Bluer than my eyes and yours as well. The house is built just to my liking. The cat walks
by and looks up at me and meows. The dog barks in the back ground, the fish makes bubbles,
and the kids giggle in the other room. I’m in the kitchen cleaning and making dinner while
I hear the TV on in the living room and he’s playing a game while talking to the giggling
kids. I walk in there to see the colors on the screen of the computer as beautiful the
ones I see. The red of the shirt he is wear and the blonde of his hair. The giggle that
pierces my thoughts and I turn to see the little girl all full of joy. The couch ruby red
just like the ruby I wear around the neck. The diamond on my finger is shinier that I've
ever seen. The earrings in my ears dangle around my neck. Then the cry of the little boy
needing his diaper changed laying on the dark emerald green blanket with the yellow
giraffe on it. In walks the sandiest of brown and white dogs with so much energy that her
face looks like its almost smiling. The cat comes in from the other door and rubs
affectionately on the little girl whose laugh punctured my thoughts just moments before. I
look back at the little boy on the couch whose cries now have punctured these thoughts. I
turn and walk over to him. I pick him up and say why you crying my little man. His tears
fade and a smile comes to his face. In this place I'm finally me and I'm finally happy
again. This is my place and no one can take it from me.
Copyright © Heather Carpenter | Year Posted 2011
I dare not move as I watch him,
Cautiously approaching his food.
I know if he catches sight of me,
He’ll be gone and it may be for good.
You’ll remember my writing about them,
The stray mother cat and her kits.
They seem to enjoy my offerings
Of the tastiest small kitten bits.
The mother cat had learned to trust me
And we’d taken a trip to the vet.
He gave her the shots that she needed.
And all of her needs had been met.
She didn’t hold it against me
And still liked to sit on my lap.
I so hoped that each of her kittens
Would soon use it too, for a nap.
One morning they didn’t come begging,
All day didn’t come for their food.
The next day and the next I worried,
Knowing something had happened, not good.
A whole week after their going,
One of the kittens returned.
He was lank and lean and quite terrified.
What has happened is yet to be learned.
I pray that sometime I can tame him,
And for all that I know he’s a she.
I’ll know gender for sure if in springtime
She brings her small kittens to me.
By: Joye Johnson 7/5/12
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2012
Long Island’s the home,
Of the mother cat.
Max, Mai Ling, and Gracie,
Are so proud of that.
They are well received,
And in from the cold.
In the warmness of love,
That their mother unfolds.
While out on the streets,
The hidden dangers stir.
She puts them to sleep,
With her poetic purrs.
This poem is for Rhoda Galgiani.
Merry Christmas Rhoda,
This is for you and your cats;
Max, Mai Ling, and Lil Gracie.
Copyright © Raul Moreno | Year Posted 2008
new cat pee on my old
and I’m so mad I can’t breathe
at the cat and me
wondering if I should give up the dream
the skinny-hope that I find stuffed in
pants-drawers, and at the back of my
I wonder if there’s anger trapped
in the fat of my ass
I wonder what I’ll find is inside of me
if I lose the mound under my stomach
above my thighs
a few months ago
I went on a diet of poverty
I caught myself in the mirror
and my mother stared back at me
I moved as fast as I could
out of that apartment
to a new town where being poor
doesn’t mean I’ll be thin again
and no one remembers
who I used to be
Copyright © Alisa Starr | Year Posted 2006
A little Bird,
Moved for living,
He had chosen a tree,
When he saw his native man.
He didn’t frightened,
He welcomed him and sang a song,
Tried to fragrant his love,
And danced on the branches.
One day a guest came,
And parked his car under the tree,
When he saw the bird droppings
He stared into the man’s eyes.
He felt insult,
He had decided to cut down the tree,
He didn’t notice,
Baby birds are growing in the nest,
Tree fell down on his mouth,
They cut the branches in pieces,
When a cat saw the little birds,
They were hiding for their life.
A Man was standing in front,
He didn’t stop them,
He provoked her,
Innocents were her taste.
A bird was crying above the shade,
He noticed, a dog, cat and man,
Everyone was dumb and deaf,
No bird came back to sing them a song.
Copyright © Daljit Khankhana | Year Posted 2006