Long Poem Topics

Check out these short poem topics. Find short poems by topic or form.

abortion absence
abuse addiction
adventure africa
age allah
allegory allusion
america analogy
angel anger
angst animal
anniversary anti bullying
anxiety appreciation
april arabic
art assonance
aubade august
autumn baby
bangla baptism
baseball basketball
beach beautiful
beauty bereavement
best friend betrayal
bible bio
bird birth
birthday black african american
blessing blue
boat body
books boxing day
boyfriend break up
bridal shower brother
bullying business
butterfly cancer
candy car
care career
caregiving cat
celebration celebrity
change chanukah
character cheer up
chicago child
child abuse childhood
children chocolate
christian christmas
cinco de mayo cinderella
city class
clothes color
columbus day community
computer confidence
conflict confusion
cool corruption
courage cousin
cowboy crazy
creation crush
cry culture
cute love dad
dance dark
daughter day
death death of a friend
december dedication
deep depression
desire destiny
devotion discrimination
divorce dog
dream drink
earth earth day
easter education
emo emotions
encouraging engagement
england environment
epic eulogy
eve evil
fairy faith
family fantasy
farewell farm
fashion father
father daughter father son
fathers day fear
february feelings
film fire
firework first love
fish fishing
flower flying
food football
for children for her
for him for kids
forgiveness freedom
french friend
friendship fruit
fun funeral
funny funny love
future games
garden gender
giggle girl
girlfriend giving
god golf
good friday good morning
good night goodbye
gospel gothic
graduate graduation
grandchild granddaughter
grandfather grandmother
grandparents grandson
grave green
grief growing up
growth guitar
hair halloween
happiness happy
happy birthday hate
health heart
heartbreak heartbroken
heaven hello
hero high school
hilarious hindi
hip hop history
hockey holiday
holocaust home
homework hope
horror horse
house how i feel
howl humanity
humor humorous
hurt husband
hyperbole i am
i love you i miss you
identity image
imagery imagination
immigration independence day
innocence insect
inspiration inspirational
international internet
introspection ireland
irony islamic
january jealousy
jesus jewish
jobs journey
joy judgement
july june
kid kindergarten
kiss language
leadership leaving
life light
little sister london
loneliness lonely
longing loss
lost lost love
love love hurts
lust lyric
magic malayalam
marathi march
marriage math
may me
meaningful memorial day
memory men
mental illness mentor
metaphor middle school
military miracle
mirror miss you
missing missing you
mom money
moon morning
mother mother daughter
mother son mothers day
motivation mountains
moving on mum
murder muse
music my child
my children mystery
myth mythology
name native american
natural disasters nature
new year new years day
new york nice
niece night
nonsense nostalgia
november nursery rhyme
obituary ocean
october old
onomatopoeia pain
paradise parents
paris parody
pashto passion
patriotic peace
people pets
philosophy places
planet poems
poetess poetry
poets political
pollution poverty
power prayer
preschool presidents day
pride princess
prison proposal
psychological purple
quinceanera race
racism rain
rainbow rainforest
rap raven
recovery from red
relationship religion
religious remember
remembrance day repetition
retirement riddle
rights river
romance romantic
rose roses are red
rude sad
sad love satire
scary school
science science fiction
sea seasons
self senses
sensual september
sexy sick
silence silly
silver simile
simple sin
sister sky
slam slavery
sleep smart
smile snow
soccer social
society softball
soldier solitude
sometimes son
song sorrow
sorry soulmate
sound space
spanish spiritual
spoken word sports
spring star
stars storm
strength stress
student success
suicide summer
sun sunset
sunshine surreal
sweet symbolism
sympathy tamil
teacher teachers day
technology teen
teenage thank you
thanks thanksgiving
thanksgiving day tiger
time today
together travel
tree tribute
true love trust
truth uplifting
urban urdu
usa vacation
valentines day vanity
veterans day violence
visionary vogon
voice volleyball
voyage war
water weather
wedding wife
wind wine
winter wisdom
woman women
word play words
work world
world war i world war ii
write writing
yellow youth
Submit Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Long Cat Poems

Long Cat Poems. Below are the most popular long Cat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cat poems by poem length and keyword.

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Mary Oliver Rotman | Details |

Randomlings 1-34


Randomling 1:  Matthew Macfadyen

I believe I'm in love with Matthew Macfadyen
He inspires in me a terribly bad yen
But as poetry goes
His name 'spires woes
Cause nothing rhymes with "Macfadyen”.


Randomling 2: Birthday Wishes
  
For my birthday, I would like a man.
I wonder---can you get one from a can?
Or maybe from a catalog?
Maybe I'll just get a dog.

Randomling 3: Yet Another Cat Poem

Cats:
toddlers in fur
senior citizens with retractable claws
lions in their own minds
lunch in the minds of dogs.

Randomling 4:  Desert Woes

A sage river in a field of sand:
         so flows hope in a barren land;
                   the crippled heart in prosthetic steel,
                             hacked and scarred, a vulture’s meal.

Randomling 5:  Dark Poetry

Follow poetry to its source;
There find heartbreak and remorse.
Follow poetry to the bitter end,
And there find death, its bosom friend.

Randomling 6: Ode to Bananas

Bananas
an underappreciated fruit
sentenced to banananality
because yellow is their long suit.


Randomling 7: Untitled  

Sorry,
this heart is closed to deposits.
There's no more room for pain.

Randomling 8: Untitled

My heart is sealed in a cold steel vault,
and I’ve lost the combination.

Randomling 9: Joyce Kilmer 2015

I think that I shall never see
A man as useful as a tree.
One has uses by the score;
The other one is apt to snore.

Randomling 10:  Bedtime Prayers

Now I lay me down to sleep,
A leaden heart is mine to keep.
If I should die before I wake--
Now there’s an offer I’d gladly take.   

Randomling 11:  The Devil Wind

Tornadoes
Fury with a smoky tail
Eddies of destruction
Deceitful beauty, enchanting danger
Death sporting a makeover
____________________________________________________________________________________
DON'T READ #12 IF YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR ME TALK TO MY SON ABOUT CERTAIN ASPECTS OF THE BIRDS AND BEES_________________________ 



Randomling 12:  A Boy's Best Friend

Your penis—it is not a toy
I told my little son.
O yes it is, he parried me
It's quite my favorite one.

Randomling 13:  Fault Lines

I have a bathroom mirror
that's grown faulty over time.
My reflection is no longer true;
it's developed little lines!

Randomling 14:  Shakespeare 101		

“To be or not to be. That is the question.”
--What question?
THE question!
--Whaddya mean, THE question?
Never mind.																		

Randomling 15: Christmas?

Peace on earth to men of good credit
Who give the gift of corporate profit
in the holy name of commercialism.

Randomling 16:  Musical Believer

Though my conscience sleeps,
wrapped in the Valium of
agnosticism, it awakens to 
the music of Mozart--
once more knowing God
by the sound of His voice.

Randomling 17: Vacuum

I didn't write a poem when you died.
The words would not come.
Perhaps I felt too deeply,
perhaps not enough;
or
maybe I died too.   10/06/01

Randomling 18: Insanity

Insanity is underrated
Its drawbacks,much overstated.
How else to do what you darn well please
And accomplish it with so much ease?

Randomling 19: Dog Day Afternoon

WATER! BALL! CHASE!
salt, waves, undertow
I don't know what's going
on here, but I'm HAPPY!

Randomling 20: Opposites Attract

i am matter---love, antimatter
never to meet save to explode
i am space, love is time
parallel dimensions never to meet

Randomling 21: Puppy Love

I ride a leaky newspaper raft
Adrift on the linoleum
Anxiously awaiting an
An attack of smelly
squirming happiness
covered in fuzz:
Puppy love.

Randomling 22: Newton's Poultice

Apple falls from tree
Newton (ouch!) takes notice
Comes up with law of gravity
while wearing a poultice
on the solstice

Randomling 23: Ticking

And the clock on the wall kept on ticking
while my life fell apart all around me.
Sweet memories faded to shadow
as my heart fell to pieces inside me.
And the clock on the wall kept on ticking
Relentlessly ticking, ticking
While my life fell apart all around me.

Randomling 24: Untitled

eternity
a mosaic assembled from
shimmering, glimmering
tiles of delight and
black-glazed stones of despair
interlocking snowflakes
in seamless beauty

Randomling 25: Seasonal Lament
Daylight shrinks end at both end as summer falls into the arm of winter. arm
Randomling 26: Untitled
I didn't want to love you.
Randomling 27: Pills Depression is days and nights curled fetal-like in a dark room, no interest in the world outside, idly wondering if there are enough pills in the bottle to kill you, then thinking it's not worth the effort to find out because you're dead inside already. Randomling 28: Guilt By Association Fresh morning light frames the cat, surrounded by piles of dirt and deceased plants, looking innocent. Randomling 29: Bell the Cat How do you give a cat a bath? Maybe you can do the math. All I know is she stinks to high heaven. And of us there are only seven. How many humans to bathe a cat? Definitely more than where we're at! Randomling 30: Muse
I want to write a poem using the word gossamer. “Gossamer.”
Randomling 31: Ripples
Canoes rock gently under the waxing moon. Black water ripples, painting a beautiful scene under the scented pines.
Randomling 32: Sunshine Waterfall I cleanse my face in a sunshine waterfall, luxuriate in a sunshine shower. Waterfall flow and warm me; sprinkle lemon drops through my hair. Randomling 33: Salon Treatment Hurricanes scour everything they touch, then rinse and blow dry. Randomling 34: My Window Blue sky pokes its face through the canopy of trees. Heat wave is over!

Copyright © Mary Oliver Rotman | Year Posted 2015


Long poem by Broken Wings | Details |

The story of my life

     I want to tell you the story of my life.  I was born in a barn at dawn.  There were
eight of us but I was the only one with spots.  I was a calico cat.  Soon people came
to look at us and I was the first to be adopted.  I came to live with an old lady in the
city.  It was a heritage building made into apartments, it was warm and cozy.  There
were many window ledges for me to look out and my old lady was very sweet.  She
gave me a bowl of milk every single day and she gave me lots of treats.  Soon I grew
into a very fat cat.  The years passed quickly and we became best of friends.  Talking
and watching television and going for naps.  One day we went for our afternoon nap,
the day passed, the evening passed and the night passed.  They found me beside
her. She had gone to heaven.

     There was so much commotion that I ran away and went into the back of the
bedroom closet.  I stayed there a long, long time until I was being dragged out by
my tail, I screeched and tried to scratch but I was put in a box.  It was dark and I
was so afraid.  Time went by, tick, tick.  Then a girl was peaking into the box at me.
Hello pretty girl, she said.  I heard people talking and they were telling her that if
they could not find a home for me that I would be put to sleep.  Hold on I wanted
to say, I don't need any help sleeping.  The girl had tears rolling down her cheeks.
She had a sweet way and lifted me out of the box.  Oh my, she said, you are a big
girl.  I was not a girl really, I was by this time an old cat, 14 years old in cat years.
We sat on the sofa and I was being petted gently, I liked that, so I purred. Then,
the girl said, I'll take her and that is when she became My Girl.

     My Girl lived in the same heritage building and her apartment was just down
the hall.  It was sunny and bright and had many windows also.  I soon realized that
I was not the only cat here.  I was introduced to Violet Patches, also a calico cat,
years older than me.  And I was told that I had a new name, it was Pearl Smudges.
Don't laugh because it could have been Chocolate Peanut Butter Parfait! At first,
I did not like Violet Patches but in no time we were friends.  She was a very feisty
cat, leaping and running all over the place.  I was amazed how high she could jump.
I could not jump because I was fat.

     At feeding time, a tablespoon of meat was put in my bowl and I gobbled it up.
In a moment it was gone.  I gave My Girl the look, you know the look but she only
laughed.  I went to check the bowl several times.  Not until lunch, she said to me.
Then we played, oh it was lovely, there were balls and fuzzy mice and this dangling
thing that I loved.  I knew I could hold onto it but it kept getting away.  Violet
Patches kept stealing the toys and I wanted to chase her, but I was getting tired
So I went for a nap on the bed where My Girl had put a cozy blanket for me.  I soon
fell asleep and I had dreams of the barn where I was born, I was kneading my
blanket and drooling.  I looked around but I was alone. The sun was shining in
and I stayed there all day forgetting about food. Did I tell you I have no teeth.

     We settled into a happy family and the years passed.  I liked the summer when
My Girl would take us out in her small garden and we would sit in the sun.  She had
two chairs in the beginning but had to go get another for herself.  She let us sniff
the flowers and roll on her patch of green grass but she never took her eyes off us.
She always kept us safe, she even put up a fence so Violet Patches could not run out.
I would never run away, I was too happy to do that.  We liked to sit on the window
ledges and watch the birds and squirrels, the trees, the rain and the world passing.
In the winter we tried to catch the snowflakes that hit the window.  It was a nice
life.  I loved My Girl and Violet Patches so much, but things changed.

     Violet Patches got sick, real sick, she cried most of the time.  My Girl was taking
her to the doctor all the time and each time came home with a new medicine to try.
Oh, how Violet Patches hated that medicine, she would run and hide.  Often I wanted
to stop My Girl but did not know how.  Then, one morning My Girl got the cat
carrier out, she put Violet Patches inside and left.  When she came back the carrier
was empty and My Girl was weeping and weeping.  I knew then that my friend was
gone.  I wrapped myself in my blanket and stayed there for three days.  I did not
eat or drink.  I heard My Girl talking and she was saying that maybe she was going
to lose another cat.  That day she came and sat on the bed beside me.  She said,
Pearl Smudges I need to talk to you.  You need to stop this, you need to come off
this bed and eat something, so come on, come on.  She left the room.  I thought
about that for a moment then decided that My Girl needed me.

     It has been several weeks now since that sad day and we have settled into a
routine, we get up and have breakfast.  I have discovered that I like tea.  My Girl
caught me with my tongue in her cup so she now gives me a saucer of tea.  I have
lost weight and eat good food but not junk.  We play a lot with all my toys.  When
My Girl leaves for work I go back to my blanket, the sun comes shining in and I roll
and roll, it is so lovely.  Slowly, I am coming to terms with the loss of my cat friend
and I am determined to be the best cat in the world for My Girl who saved me from
being put to sleep, forever.  I am not sure how much time I have left, myself, for I
am a very, very old girl.
 

_______________________
April 16, 2015



Prose/Personification

Entered in, Million Dollar Poem Contest, sponsor, Poet Destroyer


Third Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015


Long poem by Gina Young | Details |

Mating of the Rich and Famous

I once walked into my backyard
and found two slugs mating in a bucket
I had just learned how slugs go about mating, 
or trust-I would have been rightly confused

Here hangs a long line of slime, almost a foot long
and then halfway down the thread of slime, it begins to twist, to look like a strand of DNA
I am fascinated beyond comprehension
What am I seeing, I mean I KNOW what Im seeing- But WHAT am I seeing??

These two gelatinous creatures, that I admit Ive never given much thought to before
are forming the most intricate, delicate dance of fornication
This is too much for my mind,
and so I just sat and looked on in awe...this lasted for awhile so I unfortunately wasnt there for the seperation.

Now, Im lost in the realm of procreation, its consumed in my head every time I go back and imagine those delicate slugs.

Cats. Big, small, lions, cheetahs, tigers..I believe they all mate the same way. 
A female goes into estrus, and males come rolling in from far and wide. Marking every guidepost along the way, announcing his arrival.
The Lioness lays comfortably in the shade, waiting to be presented her King.
And the brawl ensues. Maybe hours or days. Screaming and slashing, boasting and threatening.
And finally when the lesser males are too worn out, too ashamed, given up, deflated...
The big man with all the prowess grabs his woman with his teeth, mounting her, her resisting..testing if she approves.
They are loud and vicious when they finally get down to it. And persistent.
Days go by, they barely eat, they are barely concious of their surroundings, hormones driving them.
They mate, they rest, they fight, they mate, they rest.
And then its over just like nothing ever happened. And shes left alone to gestate the next generation.

Birds. Birds vary...dogs and cats can be predictable when it comes to making babies.
But birds have different rules. Alot of birds mate for life and are monogomous...better than humans at it too.
Swans are particularly faithful, and heartbroken when their mates die.
There is a type of male bird that will spend hours upon hours building elaborate, beautiful nests,
collecting pretty, colorful things...making a comfortable space to get it on with his lady.
And then the females browse the different nests looking for the perfect living space for a very important event.
Some birds dance, they show off every beautiful move they have to earn the heart and eggs of a woman.
And we all know peacocks. The males are burdened with being beautiful, trying to catch a pretty birds eye. Quite opposite of us peoples, huh?

I could go on...but just a few more points on procreation.
Penguins, males keeping the eggs, almost starving to death to make sure they hatch.
Crocodiles burying their eggs just offshore, and just waiting to take out predators looking for yummy croc eggs.
Octopi will do some craziness where the female starves herself to death to make sure her young hatch alive.
Male seahorses defying everything we know about life, carry the babies....if they can, why...??
Orcas will nurse for up to 5 years, even after another calf has been born. The females never leave the family.
Female hyenas have a 7 inch clitoris which they give birth out of, Im grateful to not be a hyena.
The strongest, largest shark in the womb will cannibalize its siblings. Survival of the fittest.

So now Humans.
We have hormones like all the other animals, we act on them, we procreate.
But its almost as if we do this slyly. Not everyone obviously-not aimed at people fighting to have a child.
We say were making love, connecting, feeling. But how much is truly lust, hormones and instinct?
We have similarities of all animals in our mating rituals, whether babies are in mind or not.
Men act tough, or try to look so slick. Women flirt and dance and wear bright shiny objects, like shes trying to lure a magpie not a partner.
And we have our fights, we get vicious and physical, we fight and we penetrate, fight and penetrate. 
And then almost always someone walks away.

I always come back to the slugs.
Where there seems to be no pretension, no need for competition.
I could be so completly wrong about so many things.
But those slugs just seem to be doing something right.

Copyright © Gina Young | Year Posted 2013


Long poem by Laura Breidenthal | Details |

Spy Breidenthal -part 1-

“Without you, now I see
How fragile the world can be
And I know you've gone away,
But in my heart you'll always stay”  –Katie Melua


There is a peculiar feeling I remember experiencing when the news came I suppose people who have experienced the sudden death of a loved one would understand My heart grew heavy; my body felt weak… Yet there was still a part of me that simply didn’t want to fully believe it I felt as if my entire body was overflowing with black grief, Swirling in circular motions all throughout my blood and brain Stumbling with heightening realization and heartache, I ran down the stairs and out the door I searched around for him, scared to see him, but needing to see him… My sister motioned over to where he was lying… “No…no…” I ran across the street to him, and sat there at the curb staring at him I cried out in utter shock and pain, Sobbing at the sight of my cat stiff as stone, bloated and bloodied I had never thought I would see him this way His eyes were opened; a couple of flies were crawling on his ears, And he was lying in a small puddle of brown liquid I knew it was him even at a distance, but I had to check for certain Perhaps there was hope… As bad as it sounded, maybe it was another black cat… Maybe Spy was still laying in the grass contently, safe from harm Scaring away the large flies, I felt his tail till I came to the very end of it, where I felt the bend This little crook of the tail confirmed it was no other cat but Spy Spy - the best cat I have ever had the pleasure to call my own My tears fell upon his fur, the hot California sun beating down upon us He was my best friend He was my pride and joy…he was my sweet black cat, And I loved him with all of my heart I think Spy deserves recognition for what he has done for me and my family Yes, he was just a cat, but to me, he was so much more than that He was family, and he was the closest friend I could ever have Sitting at the curb sobbing, barefoot, hair a mess, not caring who saw me, I set my hand on the fur that wasn’t already damp and mucky My original thought of someone running him over with a car disappeared immediately Half his face was messed up His teeth were shattered Inconceivable pain still lingered on his dead, cloudy eyes I lifted each of his paws, examining them, and saw that each claw was severed, And shards of the claws dangled in various areas Deep blade wounds were evident as well… With a heartrending groan, I knew someone did this to him And this understanding curdled my blood and rattled my bones Someone had done this… Honestly, I wanted to be angry at whoever was involved in the death of Spy, But instead, all I could do was feel sadness and cry A part of me blamed myself of course I should have kept him inside… I should have watched over him better… I should have known something was wrong when he didn’t visit my room that night… I should have...I should have... But now it is just too late… A man with a short brown beard, plaid shirt And a navy blue hat approached me slowly, Holding a shoebox, a sad expression on his face "Here's... a box you can put him in," He said faintly. Being shy, I didn't want to look at him, but I did, And his eyes were glistening in sadness. Still shaking with sobs, I thanked him And began lifting Spy into the box Rather a big cat, I had some difficulty, But anything was better than leaving him there Lying in the dirty gutter collecting flies and other insects He said, "I am really sorry about your cat..." There was a silence, save for my crying, And he crouched down near me for a little while. All I could give him was a weak "Thank you." I wanted to hug him To tell him that he was so kind to stop and help... I think what we regret the most is not taking action, Not saying the right words, or not being there at the right time Yet he took action…a stranger, he was there for me, And he cried with me…. What a blessing he was to me in that moment

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015


Long poem by Laura Breidenthal | Details |

Spy Breidenthal -part 2-

I will never forget the Feast of Tabernacles at Lake Arrowhead I spent my nights there in our beautiful rented house With Spy loyally by my side He slept on my bed and kept me feeling comfortable and happy We cuddled close to each other during the cooler nights When I begin to shiver slightly (I know, I’m such a Californian!) He would warm me up, laying across my neck—a purring scarf During my most emotional prayers, he was there, And he looked at me curiously with his beautiful, yellow-green eyes He never failed to make me smile wide Throughout many hardships, His presence and his love toward me kept me going I know that the memory of him and all the good times we had Will help me endure through the hardships coming He grew up to be a very fine cat He followed me everywhere it seemed, my second shadow Friendlier than most cats I have owned in the past, He got along with everyone in the family People say that cats are very independent and moody —I would say Spy was quite the opposite When he met my friend Allie for the first time, He immediately fell in love with her and rubbed against her legs He even laid on his back showing her his belly When we sat down, he would curl up beside us, Watching inquiringly, wondering what we were doing When six kittens were born on a lovely Sabbath day, Spy would get inside the drawer they were in, Curl up around them and keep them warm Until the mother returned after her meals He was a fantastic father to them, though he was scared at first, Like I presume all fathers are to some degree The only complaints I had for Spy were his morning rituals— Desperate begging out of hunger at odd hours of the morning He liked to lay on my head, yowl loudly in my ear, scratch the walls, Or paw my face if I ignored him in my bed Come to think of it, I also used to get so irritated my him As I would descend down the stairs to my room He would always have the need to race me to the bottom No matter what he had to reach the bottom first and he never failed One time, I was determined to beat him to the bottom, So before he noticed I was shooting down the stairs, I desperately fumbled down the stairway like a maniac When I reached the last few steps, frenzied with soon-to-be glory, Suddenly Spy leaped down the stairs, and jumped right off the side rail, Landing on the bottom on all four feet, ensuring his vivacious victory I must admit, it was pretty damn epic Of course, a sore loser once again, I gave up with a playful glower, Scooping him in my arms, kissing him on the head "You silly thing..." – Was an expression often repeated on various occasions It is hard to express how I feel It is truly like losing a family member Spy is gone now I can see the pain in each family member’s eyes Especially after the trip to Arrowhead, Spy and I, We were like two peas in a pod Thank you for reading I want all of you to know, I am thankful to have you in my life We are blessed to have each other And to share experiences together Let’s make the best out of this life We never know what tomorrow will bring, but let us not fret I am just happy I had the time I had with Spy He will always be a huge part of my life The beginning of Spy's life was a tragedy as well He was thrown out of a moving car with four kittens, and left for dead I was angry at the people then, But now I am at peace, I now pray earnestly for those that harm others The fact that Spy suffered before his death severely saddens me But I am comforted in the fact that he now rests peacefully Spy Breidenthal May 2013-October 18, 2014

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015


Long poem by Dennis East | Details |

Phoebe Smelly Cat

From the first day that we fetched it home, that cat, it hated me.
We chose it a neighbour's farm and brought it home for tea.
It ran for cover instantly we placed it on the floor,
Just like hiding from a sniper on the rooftops in a war.

The days would pass and it would only come out for its food,
So we kept in the kitchen where it hid and where it pooed,
And the only one that it would come out gingerly to see
Was my wife when she picked it up and held it on her knee.

I'll make it flipping love me, as I'll show it who's the boss;
I'll hold it and I'll stroke it - even though it makes it cross.
And then when it gets calm and nice, I'll let you have a try;
We'll make it bloody love us or we'll have to say, “Goodbye.”

Then three times every morning and three times every night,
She held that feline on her lap and stroked with all her might,
Until at last she broke its will; it purred and loved her back,
It let her do just what she would and all without a smack.

So then, at last, it's my turn to force it into love,
But first I had to catch the sod by pouncing from above.
Then try and try the best I could, it never took to me,
And though I stroked to Hell and back, it wasn't meant to be.

You know, I never gave that cat the cause to hate me like it did;
Not once did I forget to feed or find it when it hid.
And when we moved to Scotland, she spent three long weeks indoors,
So I used the time to bond with her by buttering her paws.

It's a trick my mother taught me and it's sure to bring her home,
Come field or glen or mountain top, wherever she might roam.
Seemed she liked her new surroundings, and set off to explore,
And quickly found a mouse and left its innards at the door.

It's just her way to pay us back; it's her way of showing love,
Not a sacrificial offering meant for something up above.
And then, at last, the final straw of putting down her roots,
For to clearly mark her boundaries, pissed in both my walking boots.


Now living by a main road is a challenge to a cat;
With three long years of running wild, took one last stroll and splat!
And the Scottish lady driver who had ended Phoebe's reign,
Had gathered up the gruesome bits and put them back again.

She said, "I have a pussycat mysell, and love it so devout
And I'm really pished I ran yours doon and turned it inside out.”
So I gathered up the poor wee cat and set off with my spade;
I'd find a wet spot near the loch - a leafy little glade.

But just as I was on my way to dig the cat a plot,
My wife put on my handbrake, as she knew the perfect spot.
“We want the cat to feel at home- I know where it should be:
The grassy spot where she hung out to watch the birds and pee.”

The cat had picked its place to lay, to look down on us all,
That just left me to dig the hole and have myself a ball.
At first it felt quite easy, as the grass was nice and thick,
But underneath were great big rocks, so I had to swing my pick.

And when the rocks were out the way, I was halted in my tracks,
For huge tree roots criss-crossed the hole, and I had to fetch my axe.
So I swung the axe and chopped away at roots so hard and fat,
Until at last I'd cut a hole the size to take the cat.

I grabbed my spade and scraped away, then much to my surprise,
I saw a sight to chill my soul right there before my eyes.
For where I'd picked and chopped and dug as hard as I was able,
‘Twas all around, my instant death: our home’s electric cable!

I should have listened to myself and slung it in the pond
As I very nearly joined that cat as it reached out from Beyond.

Copyright © Dennis East | Year Posted 2014


Long poem by Tony Wager | Details |

Panto rhyme

PANTO RHYME


In this modern life of all work and no play
We forget where our wisdom is stored.
We just haven't time, for a nursery rhyme,
That the kids in past ages adored, adored.
That the kids in past ages adored

The characters felt they were fading away
So a meeting was held in Toad Hall
The spokesperson Rat, there promoted the Cat.
To the Captain, in charge of them all, them all.
To the captain in charge of them all.

Expeditions were planned, to go to the land
Where nursery rhymes go to retire
The home by the sea, where all pantos are free
And the stars go to slowly expire, expire.
And the stars go to slowly expire.

The Owl built a craft, you may think it quite daft,
Out of what he had left from his lunch.
There were carrots and peas, leftovers like these.
And crewed by a very odd bunch, odd bunch.
And crewed by a very odd bunch.

So the Owl and the pussycat  sailed out to sea 
In a beautiful green pea boat
Cat said to Owl, the weathers turned foul,
Do you think that these veggies will float, will float,
 Do you think that these veggies will float.

Little miss Muffet, sat tight on her tuffet
Said We’ll ask the spider to row
With four legs a side and the pull of the tide 
We’ll speed up our vessel so slow, so slow,
We’ll speed up our vessel so slow.

The prediction proved true, and  the little boat flew
To the land ‘neath the silvery moon,
Where cutlery chanced,  their luck as they danced.
And the dish had a crush on the spoon, the spoon.
And the dish had a crush on the spoon.

Where little jack Horner, recluse in his corner,
Stares hard at a pie in the sky.
And little dogs laugh, as a cow and its calf
Eat mushrooms and think they can fly, can fly.
Eat mushrooms and think they can fly.

With his crew now ashore, captain cat said “explore”
We will search till the haven is found.
I'm told it's been seen, near the magical bean.
Where the fairytale stories abound, abound.
Where the fairytale stories abound.

Then spoke, an old hag; just a man dressed in drag,
Said she knew how to find the great bean
With its stalk  growing high, past the pie in the sky.
In the town where the Giants are green, are green.
In the town where the Giants are green.

They marched off inland, captain cat and his band.
They came across little Bo Peep
Laid down on the ground, with the lambs all around.
She had dozed off while counting her sheep, her sheep,
She had dozed off while counting her sheep.

They woke shepherdess, and she gave the address,
Of the home run by Jack and by Jill
And then to confound, She said turn around,
It's behind you, up there on the hill, the hill,
It's behind you up there on hill.

They all turned about, at a terrible shout,
From man who came tumbling down.
OThen a scream from his wife, can you please save his life,
I believe that he's broken his crown, his crown.
I believe that he's broken his crown.

The clever old Owl, bound his head with a towel
And then got him back to his abode.
It seemed like a cure, and so Jill said I'm sure.
A debt to this Owl here is owed, is owed.
A debt to this Owl here is owed.

The Owl used his mind, saying that's very kind.
I think as we’re all refugees
That what we need most, is a home on this coast.
And to stay here if this town agrees, agrees.
And to stay here if this town agrees.

The town had a vote, and it's worthy of note,
That the cross placed in every page.
Was, yes, they can stay, and be part of our play.
Because all of the world is a stage, a stage
Because all of the world is a stage.



Copyright © Tony Wager | Year Posted 2015


Long poem by Shadow Hamilton | Details |

The Scottish Wild Cat giving facts of its Life

I am a big admirer of all large cats, one of my favourites being the Scottish Wild Cat.
It is one of the wildest of all cats and will fight to the death to protect its kitten even with a golden eagle. It avoids humans like the plague preferring to live a solitary life.
They have survived human for over 500 years longer than the wolf and over 1000 years more than the bear and british lynx. They have been on the planet for millions of years before either humans or domestic cats. 
They look much like a tabby but gait like a big cat, males weigh between 6-9kg, females smaller 5-7kg. They have rotating wrists and razor sharp claws for gripping and climbing trees. Fossil remains have been found measuring 4 feet.
They can sprint at 30mph and fall from massive heights landing on their feet, they are a stealth hunter and mainly nocturnal covering up to 10km range. Even when born in captivity they are un-tamable.
They charge when fighting but don't lie on their sides like domestic cats.. Renowned for biting right through gauntlets vets dart if they have to handle them.
Wild Cats enjoy their own space and daily schedules. They like things to be peaceful so live as far from humans as possible. Usually heavily forested and near water, they frequently change dens.
They are a friend of crop farmers by keeping down rabbits etc. They only eat meat consuming most if not all of what they kill. Killing by grabbing prey and pulling it down then biting through either neck or spine.
Wild Cats like to fish by using their paws to scoop out fish, and like eels, lizards and frogs. Their other food is small deer, ground birds and hares, nowadays they rarely take a lamb seeming to know the farmer will try to kill them. Most Scottish farmers are proud to have a Wild Cat on their land.
Their night vision is exceptional about seven better than ours. They can rotate their ears 180 degrees enabling them to hear all around them. They then triangulate and pinpoint the source, and exceptional balance as well make it a super predator.
Some Facts taken ad lib
Mating season: January to March, most births in April to May
Oestrus: 2 to 8 days, in presence of males
Gestation: 63 to 68 days
Litter size: Mean 3.4, range 1 to 8
Age at independence: 4 to 5 months, up to 10 months
Age at sexual maturity: Females 10 to 12 months, males 9 to 10 months
Inter birth interval: one year, females can only exceptionally breed twice in one year, such as when the first litter is lost
Mortality: Studies suggest human caused mortality (snares, roads, gunshot) account for up to 92% of deaths
Longevity: Probably around 6 to 8 years in the wild, up to 15 years in captivity 
Usually one litter a year with 3-4 kittens born in early spring, they learn to hunt from roughly 7-9 weeks old by the mother bringing home live prey then with her becoming independent around 5-6 months.
This just scrapes the surface of this fascinating cat. I think the following quote sums them up well
"They'll fight to the death for their freedom; they epitomise what it takes to be truly free I think."
Mike Tomkies 
http://www.scottishwildcats.co.uk/wildcat.html
If interested you will find most if not all you want to know on this site



~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2013


Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

Circle of Life - A Pet Story

It seems like just the other day
Our pup, Shadrack, did pass away;
And altho’ they never seemed like friends,
My old cat, Jorg, knew Shad had met
   his untimely end.

He mourned his loss every day
And looked for Shadrack everywhere.
He’d mew and moan as if to say,
“We were friends.  I do care.”

Then one night, an eerie howl
Awoke me from my sleep.
He’d found Shad’s toys and left no doubt
That his feelings did run deep.

So our tedious search began
To find another likely pup;
But while my poor wife still grieved,
Could another measure up?

We went to Second Chance and Free to Live.
She just could not make up her mind.
She loved them all; but, if she picked just one,
The rest would have to stay behind.

Then, quite by chance, there was a “pound pup”
Who’d been picked up from the streets.
He was a mutt, a “schnauza-pug”;
But he was awfully sweet.

He jumped up and kissed her frantically.
He seemed aware of his “iffy” situation.
He made the best of his opportunity.
Tears of joy told her elation.

“This is the one”, she smiled through tears,
As she held him... oh, so tight.
“I’m sure that Jorg will like him too.
Everything will be alright”.

And so it was, until one day
When old Jorg did pass away…

There was no hesitation on this sad occasion;
Come Saturday morning, we went straight 
   to the pound,
Open minded and hoping to be “saviors”,
Surely a nice cat was to be found.

“Sadly”, the lady said,” three kitties have only today.
There’s Andre and Panda and another one too”.
My wife smiled and said, “Jorg was your boy.  You pick.
They’re both beautiful cats.  It’s up to you”.

As I pondered this commitment
Another cat, a young one, caught my eye.
Like Jorg, he was a common gray tabby.
Fond memories were stirred.  I almost cried.

On closer look, his name was Boris;
And, strangely, he was number three.
There was a small sign on his crate,
“I don’t like other cats and other cats don’t like me”.

But there was character in his eyes and he was cute.
He was rolling and purring and stretching.
He seemed to look deep into my heart
And did his best to be quite fetching.

But because he was just a common gray tabby,
And because of the little sign,
His chances were slim, his future quite dim
And one day is precious little time.

For a moment I was lost in his eyes
And I heard his desperate plea, 
“I’m a swell cat and litter box trained.
Take me.  Please, take me”.

“Well”, my wife urged, “is it Andre or Panda”?
“One of us will take the other kitty.”, two older ladies chimed.
“You can each have one ladies”, I said with a smile.
I want Boris and he wants to be mine”.

In just hours he was romping and rolling with Pepper,
Who had happily welcomed his new friend.
Boris was a perfect fit, an affirmation;
The Circle of Life never ends.

Much more Joy than Sadness in this Circle,
And there should never be regrets.
Honor their memories and all the love they share,
Never break the Circle, never be without a Pet.

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014


Long poem by Carol Eastman | Details |

Kitty Claus

On a cold, cold night with a touch of snow, a cat wished quietly and sadly for a home.
For a year he’d found nowhere with love to call home. Yes, he’d been, so very, very alone.
He lived under a deserted car now, where his family had lived long ago, for a while.
They were now gone to a new home, and he feared, he couldn’t carry on without them, my dear.
So before going to bed he wished on a star, which appeared ever so brightly above, from far. 
All he wanted from anyone was some food, and to sleep next to a warm, warm fire, too.
As he fell asleep he also wished for a hand to touch his fur, gently and kindly, again.
Then he awoke to a sound he’d heard once before, as Christmas bells had tolled, long ago… He was sure.
That night an old man in red had come from out of nowhere, to take his family a new home, so fair.
Scared by the sleigh and the reindeer he drove, the cat had run away, that I know to be true. 
But not any more would he run away, his legs would no longer take him very far, any way.
He grabbed all his courage and around he snuck, until hiding under a bush nicely tucked.
There before him was a jolly old man with his reindeer and sleigh lined up, yes, again.
The man was dressed in warm, warm clothes, and stopped to lay down a beautiful bowl.
The man then turned away to do business forthright, inside the neighboring house that night.
I swear on my heart that this is ever so true, as the cat crept closer giving curiosity it’s due.
Coming closer he could sense the most wonderful smell, calling him forward, as if under a spell.
The bowl was filled with warm, warm cream, which he licked up fast as if caught in a dream.
Moments later the man came from that house, with a smile and a wink for that dear old cat.
The man in red picked up the bowl with a quiet demand, urging him gently to stroll to his hand.
Now was the dilemma to run, or to stay, but it was the large shining star that decided it all that day.
As he stood before that great big man in red, the star beckoned brightly from behind the man’s head.
The cats’ fears left as the man stayed with a smile and a grin, and a Ho Ho Ho that day, my friend.
He realized here was the home he’d wanted for so long, and had dreamt in his head, where he could belong.
Some how, he knew he’d be safe in that beautiful sled, and warm in that coat the color of red.
He came forward to lick and nuzzle the man, as yes; he was picked up gently, in his hand.
The jolly old man put him snug in his coat, as a red nosed reindeer winked from the front, I must note.
Then the man climbed in and sent forward the sleigh, as the cat curled up to sleep, the rest of the way.

Miracles can happen each day, at the hand of others who are wise and kind, I say.
This jolly old man was right in this deed, and ever so wise to stop and kind to care, you see…
So I’ll let you in on a little secret I know… 
They lived happily ever after, at the North Pole.



Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012


Long Poems