Sometimes I catch them easily,
The words I'm reaching for;
At other times watch helplessly
As they crash to the floor.
I try to reassemble but
They've landed in a jumble.
I grab too fast for floaters and
My chair and I both tumble.
Susie thinks it is hilarious
And joins into the fun.
Before she hears my "stop", she has
Already swallowed one.
I am truly very sorry
There are no poems from me.
You will know why when I tell you
My dog ate my poetry.
Won 3rd place
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2005
P-Purpose to write
O- Often thinking
Copyright © Darlene De Beaulieu | Year Posted 2017
She’s out there chasing a cricket
Through bush, through shrub & through thicket
Together they hop
But when she gets it, she just wants to lick it!
A cat whose vet took his eye
Just cannot quite understand why
His eye’s been enucleated,
3-D vision reduciated,
So now, he keeps an eye out for an eye
Ya gotta keep limericks loose
Think green eggs, or perhaps Dr. Seuss
They’re structured, it’s true,
But they’re also a zoo
Whose tenants are all on the loose!
I frolic in fountains of words
Overflowing with serious absurds
Each poem I write
Wakes up and takes flight
Joining angels and faeries and birds
You ask that we write a good limerick
How to do so, I haven’t a glimmerick
So I struggle and frown
Teaching poems to clown
So a smile on your lips will be shimmerick
A cat with a mouth full of mouse
Brought her feast right into my house
She played with her food
Who was not in the mood
To be a banquet of mouse in the house
The nightmares that shadow my sleep
Stampede the proverbial sheep
Right out of my mind
When I try to unwind
I find my appointment with sleep hard to keep
In her search for original truth
She met people unsavory and couth
She knitted and purled
But only unfurled
Yarns told by new age and old youth
Cat, suddenly pink,
Drinks her water from out of the sink
She looks so absurd
Since she’s been de-furred
I really don’t know what to think!
If one and one is two and two is four,
And there’s only two ways to go through a door,
Then, is earth up or down?
And, where is down town?
These are questions we need to explore!
A was that is an is
Tried to mind my biz
But I sent it packing,
Its presence was lacking
And I don’t have time for such shiz!
A couple who lived in Los Lunas
Loved the wide desert sky’s crystal blueness
They’d stare at the air,
Over here, over there
And rejoice at the feeling of newness
A cat with a very fat gut
Found it easier to walk on his butt
He’d drag it around
Across carpet and ground
And use it to slam the doors shut
Said the Missus to her dear Mr. Otter,
“There’s something I think that you oughta
Do before we get old
To protect us from cold –
You oughta make the hot water hotter!”
The ghosts who live up in my attic
Make noises that sound much like static
I’ve tried to send them away,
But they’re here to stay,
Those staticky ghosts in my attic
Copyright © Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson | Year Posted 2007
If deserted, was I, on an island, and was allowed only three integral items to take with me, what would they be?
If we are speaking of material things, I suppose I would take my favorite book in the whole world, "Ask Dr. Mueller" by Cookie Mueller. It is a book I cherish, and can read perpetually because it's just that good.
If, by some strange coincidence, there happened to electricity on the island, and an old, abandoned, yet functional CD player just so happened to be found, then I would want my favorite album in the world with me: "Live Through This" by Hole. I worship Courtney Love and her music. She is a grunge Goddess to me. I love every song on that album.
If pen and paper could magically count as just one item, then I would take mountains of paper and a plethora of pens so I could record everything and continue writing poetry while hoping to be rescued.
My acoustic Gibson Epiphone means the world to me; I cannot imagine not having it with me. I know how to play all the songs off "Live Through This", so perhaps I would choose my guitar instead; that way I can still enjoy those songs as I still compose more of my own; that makes sense, right?
If, by Divine Intervention, there was an abandoned, yet functional TV and DVD player, I would have to consider taking all seven seasons of "The Golden Girls"; I don't think I could survive without the Golden Girls; it's my favorite show ever. And also all of the "Star Wars" movies; those I cherish, too.
And also, since I am an addict/alcoholic, I would want to take tons of pills, whisky and Cola with me; I'm sure I could not survive without those.
I understand that perhaps people or pets may not be considered as "items", but if I could choose among them, well, I would have to take my loving partner, my best friend of twenty years and my two dogs, Sammy and Bilbo, and my three kitties: Marley, Archie and Punky (of course I count them all as one because I like to break the rules).
Since there are so many things I do not think I can live without, it's an impossible decision. But these are my considerations, nonetheless.
*What Would You Take Contest Entry
Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet | Year Posted 2013
These rustling humans, how they jabber!
With their smudged and crinkling ink dabber
I lie here resting while their investing
Their moments in this blabbered pestering
I've seen their pages scribbled in rages
Of inspiration by their sages
I hear the parchment, crisp and crackling,
Depicting marks pronounced in cackling
And wheezes of a breezes sighs
Read in secret by her eyes
Here in this secluded corner
This one was sent by a foreigner
The rounded man, all clad in fur,
Hears some code, it makes him stir
The thinner man sprouts in his chair
Which creeks beneath his squirming dare
The glamour creature, thin and frail,
Seems neutral about the true tale
I hear a fist pound on the table
Shouting that this could be a fable
"What if it's true?", the other asks
While in fascination he basks
They analyze it for a clue,
This letter, to learn if it's true
The chamber, while closed, is secret, airy
While echo's this secretary
The scribbled riddles held in hand
Are esteemed to be so grand
I might chew them if I could
For I bask in my puppy-hood
Copyright © lana evans | Year Posted 2008
stealth cat creeps closer
gets in my lap disrupts thoughts...
muse has left the scene
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2012
DR. SHUSH'S POETRY CONTEST
This contest isn’t as easy as it looks
The topic is Dr. Shush, his life and books
Send in your un-rhymed senryu
Or enter your well-rhymed haiku
The judges won’t mind
Not that they are really kind or tough
Good rhythm is hard to find
And they never read your stuff
So let’s keep all this hush
Unless you ride a different train
(But in honor of the lively Dr. Shush –
We’d allow frenemies to submit Quatrain)
Next month we will compete with sonnets
The deadline, if I may say, is yesterday
Now, don’t get bees in your bonnets
For it’s not quite April Fool’s Day
Before I go (but not really go away)
May I run this by you, “Parrot Or Pet Poetry”?
For a zinger combo contest, Pet Poems for the next St. Shush’s Day:
Submit Pet Parrot or Pat Parrot, Pat Poetry or Pet Poetry
Tree Parrot or Free Parrot, Parrot Free and Poet Free
Any tree, really – so long as it’s free (ra ra ra! FREE EVERY TREE!)
Poet Tree and Parrotry, or Free Poetry and Tree Poetry;
Last but not least, submit Tree Pets, Three Pats, or Tree Pats and Three Pets
(Just to cover loopholes: allow Parrot pats, Poet Parrots, but no parrot pots)
Poets’ pets, or Poets’ pats, along with Pat Poets and Poet Pets are a hoot –
Petty Poets, Pet potty, plus Pet Pats and Pat Pets. I’m done – Don’t shoot!)
H A P P Y A P R I L F O O L’ S E V E
© Anil Deo 20170331
Copyright © Anil Deo | Year Posted 2017
I thank you Lord for life,
I pray for the haters,
Who think they have me bent.
I love you Lord with all of my,
Heart, my mind, and my soul.
I know that even if I strive,
To live right and allow you
To rule my life, then all of
My battles for me you'll fight
And win. I will then see
You and I'll walk the paved
Streets of gold in Heaven.
I pray that each day,
I help someone to come,
Your way. I love you Lord,
To express it there's not
Enough to say.
Copyright © Nicole Sharon Brown | Year Posted 2010
CJ scrawls out
saying in black ink
this is his turf.
I dare not step
on the 4-letter word
engraved in stone
lest it ruin my day.
Some sweet child of God
writes, "GOD IS GOOD"
all over the park
in pink chalk.
their lettered kisses
set in stone
that make me smile;
love is such
a happy thing!
The dog left
dropped some leaves
to imprint themselves
upon the walk.
I haven't left my mark
maybe I will tomorrow.
Copyright © Sheila Kathryn Barrera | Year Posted 2008