Best Cat Burglar Poems
You crept into our lives
silently stalking
like a cat burglar in the dead of night
invading every aspect of our world
Robotic treatment by the Da Vinci Machine
operated by a skilled surgeon
removed this blight from our lives ...
yet lurking in the back of our minds
your memory remains
Cancer, you violated his body
but in a strange way you were a blessing
by giving us a stark reality check
We appreciate our days on earth are limited
and cherish every second
living each day to the full
Of course we are realistic
one day you may return
but we will do battle with you again
victory will be ours -
and once more you will be a distant memory!
10/5/18
I can't help myself, it's what I do
I'm just so addicted to the trade
I was too dang scared to steal the dog
'Cause of all the noise he made
You can see that I'm a cat burglar
By the mask and kitty in my paws
It's not like I stole your jewlery box
So I'm really not breaking any laws
See, I was only gonna borrow him
There's no need to sound the alarm
I needed this varmint to scratch my back
I didn't mean the little fella any harm
Now wait just a minute, don't call the cops
You caught me red handed with the critter
I'll give him back, 'cause he smells like poo
So you probably need to change the kitty litter
For Francine's Contest "Tell me about it"
I got a neighbor
who has a dog named Spike
And there are two things
that mean ole dog don’t like
Spike don’t like cats,
and he don’t like clowns
Especially the cat burglar ones
The sneaky ones who try to come around
and steal his beloved master’s possessions
They try to get in the house
through the window or back door at night
You best believe that Spike
is gonna greet them St. Bernard right
Round about the late, late show hour
is human drumstick snack time
Spike is salivating ...
waiting
to take a bite out of crime
You best believe that
news has spread underground
Cat burglars beware:
200-pound fury is policing around
Spike is gonna dog collar
any perp
who try to enter
his territory unannounced
As he crawled through the window flashlight in hand
Little did he know but would soon come to understand
Feeling his way around so as not to make any noise
When he heard a sound ah must be one of those darn toys
But then he heard it true now he could not misconstrue
"I see you, and Jesus sees you too"
Full of fear and fright he turned to that sound
And as he shined his light it's a silly little parrot that he found
"I see you and Jesus sees you too"
Picking up a lamp on cue he was going to...
But in dropping his flashlight on the floor it shined under the parrots table
Met with an angry salivating roar, this dog belonged in a stable
Looking back up at that goofy bird and completely frozen by fear
And then next what he heard was not what he wanted to hear
"Sic' em Jesus" is what that goofy bird said
Ripped him to pieces should have of just stayed home instead
The moon looked like a cat burglar that crisp November night;
clear skies but for one dark band splashed across his sight.
His guise arcane and sinister, and try hard as I might,
I couldn't help but wonder who he'd prey upon with spite.
An air of eerie stillness fell, as he cast cool silver light,
foretelling of his felony, contriving someone's cruel plight.
His luminance trespassed the land as he rose to his full height;
a meticulous surveillance to plan his act of sleight.
Disquieted I crept inside, closed the door, pulled curtains tight,
still his glow transuded every room setting all my fears alight.
Adrenalin took over, but far too scared to fight,
I sheltered 'neath the duvet to wait for morning bright.
Next morn I tiptoed down the stairs, fists clenched, my knuckles white,
but everything was in its place, the moon had taken flight.
I don't know why he visited, maybe just to be polite,
but I had uneasy feelings he'd return at next twilight.
**for 'Monorhyme Madness'
somewhere along the evolutionary spectrum
some wires were crossed &
when s/he realized their utter disgust for humanity
coupled with an urge for blood & guts
(all the things that whip up a snazzy b-horror film),
alas,
it was too late---
it was too late because the momma figure
she took him/her to dance lessons,
after all s/he wanted them for so long &
wouldn’t you know it,
s/he was a natural!
so come those long nights in the teenage years
when the hormones ran wild &
the moon being full,
s/he threw on something of a cat-burglar kind of outfit
to ramble throughout the darkness
with the hands up behind said victim of prey
ready to strangle the life of them
away.
but in one of life’s little bits of irony
the woulda’ been
coulda’ been
shoulda’ been strangler’s hands,
could not stop moving &
like it was “west side story” or perhaps
the worse form of arthritis had already set in,
s/he just twitched all around until said
victim (who really wasn’t) just turned quickly
asking what the jazz hand strangler was doing
while simultaneously laughing her/him to
shame.
after several attempts at gaining some kind of
respect
within the serial killer community,
the jazz hand strangler saw the writing on the wall &
hung up their hands (so to speak),
walking back to a rehearsal for some off off off
broadway,
with their tail between their legs.
Inspired and sung to by Linda Rondstadt's "Poor, Poor Pitiful Me" tune
Well I lay my head on the soft pillow,
while switching off the tv,
but the sleep doesn't come by here no more,
poor, poor pitiful me,
Poor, poor pitiful me
poor, poor pitiful me
Oh this insomnia wont let me be,
Lord have mercy on me,
Woe, woe is me,
Well I met a doctor out in Hollywood,
now I ain't naming names
well he really worked me over good,
knowing I'm going through the change,
yes he really worked me over good,
He was a credit to big pharma,
put me on all kinds of different prescription pills,
so I'd wake up refreshed to the alarm-a,
Poor, poor pitiful me
poor, poor pitiful me
Oh these different pills aren't helping me,
Lord have mercy on me,
Woe, woe is me,
Well I finally met Mr. Sandman,
while in my Tweety pajamas,
picked up my baseball bat thinking he was a cat burglar,
and he said "please don't hurt me mama!"
Poor poor pitiful me
poor, poor pitiful me
Oh this insomnia wont let me be
Lord have mercy on me,
Woe, woe is me!
Well the very next day,
I went out and sprayed,
people with my hugh champagne bottle,
finally celebrating and feeling refreshed
thanks to my new mattress by beauty rest!
No more pitiful me,
no more pitiful me,
thanks to beauty rest I can finally sleep,
woe, woe no more counting sheep!!!
You creep
like a cat burglar
invading innocent lives
No one knows
you’ve been silently stalking
until you pounce
Sister Susie; sans hair
removes a stylish wig
off a polystyrene model
She bursts out laughing at the irony...
the model is now as bald as she is!
‘I always wanted to be blonde’
Susie says with a wry smile.
Cancer you are a thief!
Robbing victims of so much
Sadly some lose their lives
However, there is one thing
you will never take from me
and that ...is hope.
5/27/19
Scaling the walls outside
Like an agile athlete
Prayers is going out
For the sinners, the needy
And just as the demons retreat
A sudden drop of cold sweat
Rush down the monk's forehead
For a faint sound of a window pane
Falling to the floor in splinters
The last syllable paused
To a sound so sinister
In the dead of night
Two eyes meet
It was love at first sight
The jewel the thief stole
Was the monk's heart
Incidents like this makes
Many relate to fate
For the monk love boosted his faith
As for the cat burglar
She found love and salvation
Love is divine
She couldn't help but tarried
In a few months wedding bells rang
Who would have thought
An unusual union
Love is no respecter of persons
I woke up early on Christmas Eve
It was late, in the middle of the night
When I saw him under the Christmas tree
He give me such a terrible fright
I thought it must be a cat burglar
Who was trying to steal from me
And I had a fifty-two inch color television
Under that Christmas tree
So I ran to the kitchen as fast as I could
To try to find me a kinife
But I just couldn't find one anywhere
Remind me to have a talk with my wife
Anyway, I grabbed up the toaster behind the bread
That was sitting on the cabinet shelf
I snuck up behind him, like a ninja in sneakers
And was planning on killing that elf
Of course I didn't know it, at the time it occurred
That the fat man, was old Santa Claus
It wouldn't have mattered to me at all
Cause he touched my remote with his paws
I almost had him, when I heard this sound
That was coming from my very own kitchen
It was, Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen
Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen
Those eight tiny reindeer had attacked me
I had hoofprints all over my head
And that's when the fat man in the big red suit
Turned around to me and said
"I'm just gonna borrow your color tv,
So I can watch the football game"
"The one in my workshop is only nineteen inches,
And it's really too small and lame"
Before I could tell him to forget it buddy
I heard the sound of him slamming my door
Those eight bully reindeer had wrapped me in tinsel
And left me helpless on the livingroom floor
Well, that was the last time I saw him
And my tv was never returned
So make sure you hide your color tv's
Take it from someone who's learned
the soft easy moments of summer
resplendent with deliciously idle moments
have crept away
in the night
like a cat burglar
with all four paws
scratching at the skin
of an early fall
thought’s of favourite ice creams
overrun by leather bound day-timers
rich warm and luxurious sleep-ins
of a sultry August
overwhelmed by a distinctly cool change
between sunset and dawn
almost as if cellophane
has slipped within your skin
the casualness of long walks
on Nantucket and ‘the yard’
replaced by things to do
places to go
the promise of cool nights to come
protected by sentries of fire
old heavy sweaters
appear as if long lost friends
little consolation
to the empty hammock
one moment a dream machine
now a piece of shipwrecked canvas
summer the restless mistress of the soul
moves on without a hint of regret
IRISH
I heard bankshots last night,
sounded like vault robbery for sure
These startled eyes, which got rudely awakened,
saw some masked bandits
mute walking on a one beam teller ...
not cash registering one word
No safety deposit reassurances were heard,
only silent alarm
breached security measure blurbs
On the latest Bankers Holiday,
I heard some peppery sprayed hotshots
being airwave-pumped
in a high pitch, screaming tire getaway
Preying mantis scarlet quotation tread marks
on the glowing screen said:
"We only take more than you can pay ...
blood money always got a dead air say"
Children of famous crooked faces
were crouched decibel low on a zip lip line,
tightrope beam teller
Proselyte pantomime pupils
moving their mouths a lot, cat burglar quick
Using lip sync tools,
saying not a single word ...
Only giving a wily nod coyote wink
I heard not a word
uttered
No, not one truthful word
spoken
during this brazen, public heist
As every lullaby lamb
warm fleece slept
with their pockets open last night
Mans inspiration steals its way
Unobtrusively to mind
Like a cat burglar on a heist:
Stealthy, but it comes not to rob
Intellectual property
But to deposit a priceless gem
Still unpolished yet nonetheless
Precious to a creative mind.
Unlike a diamond in the rough
this gems luster is most fleeting
whose innate beauty potential
is measured in nanoseconds
thus leaving little precious time
to create a faceted gem.
I woke up on Christmas Eve
It was late, in the middle of the night
When I saw him under the Christmas tree
He give me such a terrible fright
I thought it was a cat burglar or something
Who was trying to steal from me
And I had a 52 inch color television
Under that Christmas tree
So I ran to the kitchen as fast as I could
To try to find me a kinife
But I just couldn't find one anywhere
Remind me to have a talk with my wife
Anyway, I grabbed up the toaster behind the bread
That was sitting on the cabinet shelf
I snuck up behind him, like a ninja in sneakers
And was planning on killing that elf
Of course I didn't know it, at the time it occurred
That the fat man, was old Santa Claus
It wouldn't have mattered to me at the time
Cause he touched my remote with his paws
I almost had him, when I heard this sound
That was coming from my very own kitchen
It was, Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen
Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen
Those eight tiny reindeer had attacked me
I had hoofprints all over my head
And that's when the fat man in the big red suit
Turned around to me and he said
"I'm just gonna borrow your color tv,
So I can watch the football game"
"The one in my workshop is only 19 inches.
And it's just really too small and lame"
Before I could tell him to forget it buddy
I heard the sound of him slamming my door
Those eight bully reindeer had wrapped me in tinsel
And left me helpless on the livingroom floor
Well, that was the last time I saw him
And my tv was never returned
So make sure you hide your color tv's
Take it from someone who's learned
You took my heart my soul my whole
Like the best feline cat burglar you stole
You have bewitched me, entranced me
I’m under your spell and all at sea
Like the best feline cat burglar you stole
The love I gave you, I’ve lost all control
I’m under your spell and all at sea
That’s what a sweet heart like you does to me
The love I gave you, I’ve lost all control
You have bewitched me, entranced me
That’s what a sweet heart like you does to me
You took my heart my soul my whole