Best Claws Poems
Stealing light, Day had won,
grey clouds, evoke despair:
choking a waning sun.
A dullness dims the air,
as flower blossoms droop;
heads bowed as in prayer.
Bruised, indigo splotches
dapple diminished blues;
with dark purple blotches.
Flashing within the gloom,
lightning intensifies;
with a thunderous boom.
And its jagged claws scratch
the air high in the sky;
reaching for drops to snatch.
But its strikes are in vain,
for electric talons
cannot grasp drops of rain.
Orphan Annie
Visits everyday
Her big green eyes sharp, inquisitive
Looking for love, slinky and sultry
Spends hours
With me
Sharp claws.
Has pads,
Walks silently
Almost like a tight rope walker
Our Annie meows and meows, cute
Then cuddly
Resting head
On lap.
Bird appears,
Annie restless
Disappears to back of oak tree,
Comes back licking paws, bird gone
Annie’s tummy
Go Home
Babies’ waiting
ENTERING COMPETITION ; 'TRINET'
SPONSORED BY JOSEPH MAY
14/01/2021
Dear Santa Claws, for Christmas I’d like a new chew bone; I’ve been a real good dog this year; I don’t even bite the cat, Sheba, when she attacks my head, as I sleep and that’s not easy to do since Sheba has put a lot of holes in my head. I’d also like some medicine for it.
Please bring me a new bed too, as mine reeks of cat urine; Sheba peed on it 5 times last week, while Mommy and me were at the park.
As far as cats go, Sheba is OK but, I wish she’d stop eating all of my treats. Please bring her some of her own. Oh and one of those catnip mice she’s so crazy about, it puts her to sleep for a long time and that’ll give me a chance to play with my own toys, for a change.
Mommy could use a new winter scarf too; Sheba keeps shredding’em with her claws; she really hates anything that has fringe. It gets really ugly to watch. It’s a good thing that I’m such a good dog; otherwise I’d bite Sheba in half when she destroys things…(Does she know how lucky she is…I doubt it.)
If it’s not asking too much, can I also get a new bag of jerky treats? Also one of those neat colored rope bone toys? I love the way the ends tickle my nose when I play with it. The one you bought last year; Sheba tore it up, mistaking the stringy ends for Mommy’s scarf fringe.
You can have my last jerky treat when you come, if you want. That is, if Sheba hasn’t eaten it yet. You can also have some of my water if you’re thirsty but, please be careful not to, leave your face fur in it. Last year I almost choked to death on a piece of it. If you’d like, you can have my last pig ear too. I know all of that work in one night probably gives you a powerful appetite. (Sheba hates pig ears so I doubt she’ll mess with it.) Thanks Santa.
Sincerely,
Butch, The Dog
PS: Be careful flying Santa, there’s some new creature out flying around; his name is “Drone” and he drinks, I think ‘cause he fell last weekend and just missed my head.
While claws of full moon pierce the lanes, beware
For Hallow slakes on a witching twilight,
Ghoulish tricks from dark shadows choke the air
Engraving beams with ripped imprints of fright!
Halloween Moon Contest of Eve Roper
10/20/2015
In spring we come out to see life,
out from our long cold winter's nap.
Bears are so loving not wildlife.
Love can be grand.
I am your big fun bear asap,
you are my fury playful wife,
I love to see you in gift-wrap.
Tonight we need some fun nightlife,
eating fish not from a flytrap,
using my big claws not a knife,
Love can be grand.
Ouch! They cause pain whether
from human or cat.
Words can be claw-like when
attacking an opponent's back.
Being swift, cruel and degrading,
Is the clarion call of our generation.
The smallest of souls have violent mouths.
Souls in people with character can hold their own,
During harangues and deceitful, vicious onslaughts.
I need not mention who I am speaking of.
Just wish they remember they were all made by God.
And one day each of them like us,
Will be buried under the dark,
stillness of God's eternal sod.
June 29, 2019
7pm PST
I saw Santy Claws today which was weird
Because he usually is not seen even in December
I told everyone
They looked at me like I used to look at Chicken Little
When he was crying that the sky was falling in
Maybe the sky is falling in, I thought.
Maybe the trees are falling down.
Maybe heaven will crash into the mountains
Maybe angels will run down screaming
I saw the Easter Bunny seconds ago
Not strange at all in my current mood
But I wisely keep this one to myself
Knowing better now
A predator's rapier claws;
keeps my cat in good health.
Midnight black, she blends with shadows
and 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.
love to brittany
sex and self,can be told this
we love her,open
Santa “Claws”
it was bitterly cold
the tree lot that night
as I loaded our tree
tied it up really tight
drove through wet streets
the windblown fresh flurries
past the slow moving cars
in this season that hurries
pulled into the driveway
to the family’s applause
a much muted version
of that for the “Clause”
Carried the tree in
cut all the twine
stood it up straight
to let it unwind
mixed up a warming
egg nog with some rum
never expecting
what was to come
A shreik and a scurry
a “Dad – Come here Quick!!”
it seemed that the tree’d
played a horrible trick
something was moving
emitting low growl
each time it moved
the children would howl
seems that the heat
the light of our home
awakened the beast
caused it to moan
climbed amid branches
sticky thick sap
upset we had woke it
from its cold winter’s nap
and so there we waited
with baskets and net
and towels in case
it came out all wet
As slowly the growl
softened to a mew
two eyes peeking out
on surroundings quite new
The children all gasped
as it fell from the tree
rolled in a ball
out on to the floor
sprang to its feet
took off in a blur
jumped into the box
with the bulbs and the tinsel
bellowed the song
a high pitched old minstrel
tangled in wires
covered in bows
two greenish eyes
one little pink nose
four little paws
in a “What the heck” pose.
So shake out your trees
for this story is written
of how we brought home
our first Christmas Kitten.
11/13/2015
submitted to – Cats and Christmas Trees – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Mary Oliver Rotman
Dear Santa Claws, please bring me a new catnip mousey; my old one has so many holes that the nip won’t stay in and I can’t eat it all in one day; it gives me the munchies and a headache.
I also need another collar, one without bells; I don’t want the dog and mice to know where I am; they don’t respect my privacy. I can’t surprise them and Butch, the dog, loves for me to pounce on his head while he’s asleep.
For a dog, Butch is okay, I guess but I doubt you’ll bring him anything ‘cause he’s been bad this year; oh, but if you do, he wants a new bed, I accidentally peed in it last week, five times.
Oh, and please bring Mommy a new winter scarf; since I pulled out all of the fringe on her favorite one, she’s been a little irritable. A nice bottle of wine, would help too, in case I accidentally damage the new one; really, I’m a good cat but, fringe gets a real thrill out of teasing me until I snap.
So, Santa Claws, stop by and I’ll leave some kibble and milk out for you but, please don’t leave any face fur in it; Butch nearly choked to death on a piece last year and I got blamed for it.
Thank you,
Sheba, the good cat.
You talk with condensing tones
Crushing down on shaken bones.
You whisper secrets in my ears
That you say I had no right to hear
Your claws dig deeper year by year.
As The Claws Dig Deeper
I lay with my lips to the floor
I can feel the agony seep through my veins as the blood begins to pour
As i Gnash my teeth i hear them crack
I can feel the claws as they dig deep into my back
I am Distraught with anger and the substance of pain
Voices yelling "from this strength you will gain"
My eyes closed as i breath out in anguish
Yearning and screaming these tears i wish to banish
My fingers scratching at the tiles beneath my skin
My nails splitting as the torture spreads i begin to grin
Embracing the sorrow to make my heart black
As it becomes nothing more the a beating blood sack
Beware as i begin to rise to my feet
The gaze in my eyes no longer for the meek
As the claws of vivacity dig deeper into my soul
I gaze in the looking glass as watch my eyes grow cold
Safe behind the bathroom door,
I claw the paper to the floor.
Oh, hey, you home?
You yank me from my curtain climb
But I shall nap and bide my time.
You'll pass by soon enough.