Metaphor Cat Poems | Metaphor Poems About Cat

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Details | Iambic Pentameter |

The Tale of Hairless Cat

They say just there beyond the valley, that
     there lived inside a house a little cat
who never went outside to run and play;
     she chose to spend her time indoors each day.

They named her Hairless Cat.  Her owners called
     her that, because their little pet was bald.
She was a different breed of cat—and true
     her skin was bare—on Hairless no fur grew.

Some days, a while back, she’d gone outside
     but never stayed out long, came in to hide—
the kitties tried ignoring her, and so
     would not befriend her—would not say hello.

Now Hairless Cat, aware that she was shy
     and different from others that passed by,
began to think of other ways to cope
     to make them friendlier; so there was hope.

She thought and thought, whatever can I do
     to let them know beneath my bare skin view,
there lives a nice smart kitten hoping that
     she could be friends with each and every cat.

That night it came to her within a dream;
     next morning she began to smile and beam!
Her owner left the door somewhat ajar
     when they went out for shopping with their car.

Her bowl of yummy dry food in the room
     was filled up to the top, and very soon,
she carried dry food nibbles, one by one,
     out through the door onto the porch, when done,

She stood beside her feast, began to eat,
     and soon the cats came by, did not retreat—
but closer to the porch they came to see
     that Hairless Cat had planned a cat party.

They came to share the feast each, one by one,
     and Hairless Cat was happy they had come!
Her lonely days were over, she had won,
     and each and every day with friends had fun.

The moral of this story is if you
     are lonely and you need a friend or two,
you must reach out to them and make them see
     what a good friend to them you want to be.

Sandra M. Haight

~2nd Place~
Contest: E Is For Emotion
Sponsor: Casarah Nance
Judged: 09/23/2015

~4th Place~
Contest: Tell A Tall Tale
Judged: 07/06/2016
Sponsor: Jesse Day

Revised from a former poem, “Rainbow Cat”,
Posted 11/02/14

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015

Details | Iambic Pentameter |

Rainbow Cat

They say just there beyond the valley, that
There lived inside a house a little cat
Who never went outside to run and play;
She had to spend her time indoors each day.

Beside the window, curled on wooden chair,
Her heart was saddened by the nasty glare
Of other cats that passed within her sight
With eyes of fear and looking for a fight.

One day a while back she’d gone outside
But never stayed out long, came in to hide—
The kitties laughed and chided her and so
Would not befriend her; she became their foe.

They called her Rainbow Cat, her owners named
Her that, because her fur was brightly flamed
With colors—yellow, green and red and blue
Laid out in arcs— like rainbows her fur grew.

Now Rainbow Cat, aware that she was shy
And different from others that passed by
Began to think of other ways to cope
To make them like her—so there was some hope.

She thought and thought, whatever can I do
To let them know beneath this colored ‘doo’
There lives a nice smart kitten just like them
And not a kitty cat they should condemn.

That night it came to her within a dream;
Next morning she began to smile and beam.
Her owner left the door somewhat ajar
When they went out for shopping with their car.

Her bowl of yummy dry food in the room
Was filled up to the top and without gloom,
She carried dry food nibbles, one by one,
Out through the door onto the porch, when done

She stood beside her feast, began to eat
And soon the cats came by, did not retreat—
But closer to the porch they came to see
That Rainbow Cat had planned a cat party.

They came to share the feast each, one by one,
And Rainbow Cat was happy they had come!
The cats now saw beneath her rainbow fur
She was a kitty just like them and purred.

Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: Fable to the Rescue
Sponsor: Carol Eastman
Judged 11/18/2014

~8th Place~
Contest: A Poem You Are Proud Of #2
Sponsor: Skat A
Judged: 05/13/2016

Moral:  Never judge people by how they look:
          What is inside is what really counts.

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku |

elusive sleep comes

elusive sleep comes
on hot tropical night--
a caterwaul

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

Cat On A Hot Tin Roof

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof 

 I felt my finger nails digging into his back 
What an intensified sexual moment 
I never knew that tears could roll 
Down the cheeks of a robust man 

he wept! he sigh! he came 
Again, and again and again 
was it a sportsmanship or 
an injury cat on a Hot Tin Roof? 

Copyright © Annie Lander | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

Rapier Claws-

A predator's rapier claws,
maintains her in good health.
And mingling with the shadows,
she stalks her prey with stealth.

Pouncing at nearly lightning speed,
she's a featureless blur.
And yet when cuddled in my lap,
Death wears the softest fur.

The theme is #1 Feline (common meter stanza),
Written by Emile Mar. 27, 2015 for the contest “Let Me Feel Your Lines”

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |

Four Legged Palettes

Cats are containers of colorful personality. A blue cat sits alone looking at the floor before him. His mind blank as, a new sketchbook; waiting for the artist within to, paint him into a clown. Red cats rage against life’s storms and invaders in their yard. Birds, squirrels and mice fear the wrath of a red cat; sharp teeth and claws are swift when, propelled by a red paw. Yellow cats have a tendency to leave surprise gastric gifts on your carpet, as much as possible; always apologizing with their pale, jaundiced eyes. The green cat personality is rare. You’ll find them holding it all in until they get to that litter box. Green behavior warrants a private box, along with a nice treat. Green cats, can’t stand a stench and will scratch litter for hours to slay a screaming smell. The purple cats see every opportunity for affection and milk it. Love emanates from their bones and cuddling is what they do best. When purple cats offer a hug, you cannot resist. Beware the polka-dotted cat! A love bite will quickly become piercing claws; shredding an arm in seconds. Pink cats are Coveted cats. Children love pink cats and carry them everywhere. Their serene and constant purring sings you to sleep, ever so gently. A pink cats love is never-ending. The rainbow personality, is the comedian of all cats. Light to dark and red to yellow; the court jester of the species. these side-splitting, laugh factories, will never allow you to be bored. Keep a camera handy; rainbow cats are usually, fabulous video celebrities

Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |

Skeleton Cat and Pinstripe Mouse

Part One 
Cannon Beach, Oregon 
Present Day

Silver rain wrapped her flowing fingers around Douglas Firs.  Ocean was the blue ballerina dancing upon the stage of sand. Finally, the rain receded, and the cloud curtains parted their fleecy flair. Full moon bloomed from night's womb, and twinkling sky wore her as an Olympic medal.

Flash after flash, Cassaro took picture after picture.

Suddenly, to her haunted horror the landscape changed. 

Full moon transformed into Death's skull while stars shined as his eyes. Evening became his ebony cape, and clouds climaxed into his sickle. 

Oh the sight!
Oh the sight!
Nightmare night! 

Cassaro's boss Death strutted in his skeleton stride towards her. She whipped down hot whiskey and sighed as Death entered the hotel room.

"Pinstripe Mouse, I have a mission for you. You are.. "

Cassaro ignored him and drank more. 

"You drink too much cheese."

"Now, I desire steel cheese," Cassaro said.

She placed the bottle down on the counter. Then, she reached in her pocket and unleashed her stiletto. Cassaro grabbed Death's bony neck and threw his ghostly presence into the hotel wall.

"Go ahead, try to de-claw Skeleton Cat," Death said as he winked at her.

She threw her knife down as if it were a dirty wash cloth.

"You need your plethora of pills," Death said.

"You need to polish your bones."

"Again, I have a mission for you. You are..."

Cassaro snatched up the empty bottle and smashed it into the wall. Shards of glass slid down, then crackled upon the carpet.

She screamed, "Let my mortality melt into mush! Let my skull sink into the sands of the afterlife! Let me be just bone!"

Death slammed his scythe into the floor with such fury that the hotel room shook like an earthquake had hit. He ripped off his regal robe and threw it into the wall where it transformed into a flat screen. His sickle shrank into a remote control. Pictures of children appeared on the monitor.

"There are twenty children this week alone you can save. If you choose to die, then they will..."

"Only if you become flesh and blood," Cassaro said as she eyed his skull.

Life surrounded him like ivy in the forest, climbing bone after bone. Cassaro glanced into his amber eyes and smiled with lace tears.

"Death became man and walked right into the history books," she said.

"The mission begins in Russia," Death said. 

They both turned into steam and disappeared. 

Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

My Cat Turnup


Her ears
flicker like flowers in forest

Her eyes
two captivating jade candles

Her tongue 
a pink sail in her tuxedo ocean

Her whiskers
wink with movie star expression 

Her meows 
are echoing springtime winds

Her body
a black and white book of fantasy

Her tail
moves like a feather plume


Pain pushes me
like a bully in the school yard

She pounces
with the fervor of a panther upon me

Her essence
ties herself to me like a ribbon 

I am tree
nestling her in my flesh branches

I stroke her
while tears ticket my face

Feline love erupts with fire
melting my embittered thoughts

Her purrs
place pocket peace back inside me

October 20th 2008

Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |


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

Details | Free verse |

Three Souls

One was a child 
so sweet and mild
Voice of a bell 
to ward off hell

One was a bell
with a crystal chime
To comfort the cat
and make the earth shine
Two was a cat
With a mysterious past
A dark view of the world
And a horrible wrath

Two was a mind
as dark as night
To protect the doll
That could not see the light

Three was a doll
With a broken soul
A shattered heart
With eyes a black hole

Three was a rose
Of pure white
Covered in thorns
As black as night

Copyright © Sarafiel Light | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |

The Cat

Glowing eyes invade the darkness of the night.
A majestic hunter with prey in it's sights.
Slowly moving through the grass, as slient as an empty glass.
A creature with a sullen expression, embraking upon a hunting session.
It srikes from the shadows of the night; giving the prey little change of escape or fight.
A body full of warming fur and makes the sound of a meow or pur.
Pointy ears, thin legs and sharp claws; extending out from padded paws.
This cretaure wears a sumptuous looking coat always shiney and clean; walking with graceful posture like that of a ballroom scene.
It's younger form more playful and small, but soon will grow just as cunning and tall.
Masquerading as innocent family pets and balls of fur; hiding the true heart of a loin waiting to roar.
 Some choose to live with families in thier home; well others  like the nomadic people enjoy to roam.
Hedonistic in nature like Lord Henry from the story of Dorian grey, the cat hate's having it's pleasurable lifestyle taken away.
Roaming around night and day...... this creature of beauty is always on the hunt;  for it's next prey....

Copyright © Marko Kyoto | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? |


     Cat, original and resurrected
             Pounce on the same fish
                    How can the fish identify who is who?
                            Who is false, who is true?
                                     Let choose your bacterium her Petri dish.

Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |


How unlike a cat is this
slender dash of ink upon the page,
this pinch of print, this little line
of punctuation, adding
its mere millimetres of meaning,
black against white,
significant in its separation
of segments of the sentence,
imbuing words around it with a dab
of consequence or moment.

How like a printed dash
is my black cat,
stretched and stark against the sun-white concrete
of the distant yard baking below,
separating nothing but atoms of air,
elongated, luxuriating,
significant only in herself –
a piece of furry punctuation
that tells us solely that it is,
and needs no function to perform.
By itself, it is of itself,
answerable to no one and to nothing –
except the rain, which has just arrived,
suddenly, in slapping, ponderous lumps,
to soak the stone page and darken it,
and drive her dash to drier quarters.

Copyright © Andrew John | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

First Class

Watching a fine soft morning
Turning into surgery diamonds 
She rubbed her back against the cold glass
Re-affirming her seat on aisle one, while
Relentlessly adjusting her seatback 
Until her sleep is found against the first class window
No luggage pick-up will be needed this morning 
She keeps all of that under her seat.

Copyright © Daniella Annalisa Nikolayev | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

About Poets

The poem I dreamed last night 
this morning has disappeared 
like Alice's Cheshire Cat. 
It seemed to vanish line by line -
leaving me somewhere between
a Hatter and a Hare,
and they're both mad you know.
We're all mad here -
we must be or we wouldn't have come
to this Wonderland of words.

Copyright © DebbySue Guenther | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Bullet Cat

I am a bullet cat
when I mew
all rats fly away
into hiding they go
When I jump
I miss not my target

Copyright © Solomon Ochwo-Oburu | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Second Lumination

You leave
Emerging out of the ashened steam
Of the matter of galimatias
By a deaf, quadrilateral angle

Box unfolded

You won't come back
The sum of your returns
Sounds of a purring cat
That found itaka of its litter box

Copyright © Nel K Aster | Year Posted 2017