Best Feral Poems
babe
I stumbled home—
drenched in Guinness, soaked in guilt
the apartment crumbles, a shattered ruin
but you—your copper mane ablaze—
my wild Morrigan
a feral Celtic Faerie Queene
waging war against the wreckage.
You told me love was a lie
stitched by leprechauns
but your touch proves
there’s truth in everything
we break and rebuild.
Chased the wail of a banshee tonight
hoping to drown the shame
gulped it down like bottom-shelf whiskey.
Instead I christened the clover—
four leaves or forty—who cares? —
baptizing failures
trembling hands at work.
In this emerald world of lies
forget unicorns rainbows and clovers—
false luck's for fools and drunks.
Luck’s a liar
a Puca’s trick
crumbling when touched.
But you—
wear that emerald dress
like a battle cry.
A storm inside a woman
whiskey-fire eyes dare me
to fall harder
and I do. Every time.
You are my reel—
venomous alive
an unseelie’s song
the one thing that won’t let me escape.
I’ve fed the snakes with my mistakes
but still
I kneel before you—
a fool
drunk on you
more potent than any fairy brew.
We aren’t saints
but we’re still here—
holding on to this wreckage
with blood-stained hands.
Pour another pint, love—
let’s dance on glass fragments
our broken dreams—
our frenzied jig
painting the town green—
two misfits spinning
through this carnival of Fiana fools.
In the chaos
in the ruin
we find each other.
No leprechaun guards our gold
but you—my queen of chaos—
are treasure enough
to keep me alive.
So here's to you, my wild Morrigan—
in your eyes I find my home
the only shelter I’ve ever known.
in your smile, I find sanctuary and storm alike—
for you, are my feral Celtic Faerie Queen.
Ursus Maritimus ...
I entered your world in quietude, slipping through the granular, soft.
Long slats to feet parting the frozen. Cold of a previously unknown
Extreme, nipping, sharp, the epidermis with ardor. A Mid-May akin to
February, homeward, first warning of extrinsic ire, ignored. Hours of
Similar (sobering) revelations ensued, supplanted by days, weeks,
Moons ... reality - icebound and born of abiding trial. The basic
Elements staggering, swallowed by the providence around me. A
Vastness beyond vast, afar ... crushing cold of limitless value, each
Sunrise a new contingency for measure of my insignificance. How I
Adored you for your beauty - such reward for the naked eye, there
Amidst a denuded struggle. Shaped by eons of selection into a
Creation of perfect form and ease, as at home with desolation as
I at a warm hearth and aliment. Moving sprite through your environs,
All senses attuned to the mind's axis ... at once knowing and known,
Master of a savage domain. Every dynamism a fluid dance, every
Steamed puff of exhalation a waif of delicacy, bespoken. Do not the
Gods aspire to such? If there were deities afforded such barren and
Bleak scapes, it would be none other than you - as exquisitely
Magnificent and divine as the forbidding but breathtaking element
Around you, my brother. Yet, I fear I have doomed you, for others
Will now follow ... others who find no such elegance in anything
But graft and greed. By the simple act of watching I may have
Sealed your fate, firm and grim. So, I will not turn to admire you
As I leave ... but rather keep you forever as a phantom in my mind
And heart and longings - to let you devour my spirit and join with
You, ever after straining to hear the echo of your lonely, distant
Growl, the one that so often haunts my thoughts and meanderings,
Dark and cold in the arctic night, dark and cold in the willows ...
Deep and frozen and dreaming, of your gleaming and breathless
Beauty. If but mine to touch ... to know. Forgive me and farewell ...
Brother Bear.
Whereas hearts are led by loving's blindness
and feral moans drift idly on the wind
rendering those stricken deaf and mindless
their voyage - sweet beginning of no end
Full sails, distant horizons, cresting seas
winds rippling the canvas short of gale
a shiver of timbers - buckling of knees
a crumbling of vows they wouldn't let fail
Yet hearts encompass a passion - a will
to scream at the night - to curse their own tears
to challenge the wind until it goes still
to cherish the mast - to conquer love's fears
The taming of the feral heart must be
to love and in the loving set it free
10/4/2020
Love Sonnet Poetry Contest
We've got a short time to make it to the top.
To climb the neck bones of our elusive God.
A short time to scribe, knead, travel, paint.
Crash land into a true soul mate.
Elevate to the next consciousness.
Build your own rose petal nest.
Life is a fiery sprint,
a taste of earth, a splash of mint.
Where's the synergy of heart + soul?
The silver sheen of youthful shoals.
The antidote for hopelessness
The patch over the sinkhole of the mind.
The neck bone staircase has vanished into the clouds.
We've a short time to unstitch the light from the shroud.
To leave something profound, everlasting, behind.
Something more than selfies and a jar of forgotten ashes.
Such a short time to escape from the stall
The dream is swifter than the dreamer after all.
I praise myself- a 'feral' animal,
so like you, Elephant- majestic, wild;
your dedication to herd families
has influenced me since I was a child.
Like you, dear Elephant, instincts abound:
a mother, matriarch surely I am,
consumed with 'tribal' harmony, like you,
fierce guardian- yet, gentle as a lamb.
Brave elephant, devoted to a fault,
my sense of duty matches yours for sure.
Connected still, and leading when I can,
so that like you, my kindred will endure.
Like you, a power animal, I'm strong
for young ones of my 'herd', and elders too.
My mental 'tusks' plow through life's challenges
and make it easier to help them through.
My empathy and telepathic sense,
like you, attune me to familial needs.
Staunch Elephant, your deep connectedness
and cogent, native skills inspire my deeds.
As imitation mimics flattery,
you, Elephant, I've followed many ways.
Your species has survived billions of years;
that 'feral' part of me- mimes you in praise.
June 15, 2017
~2nd Place~
Contest: A Poem Honoring Spirituality Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Judged: 05/07/2020
~2nd Place~
Premiere Contest: Feral
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Judged: 08/10/2018
~2nd Place~
Contest: Favorite Animal In The World
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Judged: 06/04/2018
~9th Place~
Premiere Contest: Spirit Guides
Sponsor: White Wolf
Judged: 06/23/2017
"The Feral Mind’s Fibonacci Dream"
The true lamp of the heart
knows where and where not to roam
It hides its secrets, yet shares its open songs
like a Fibonacci shell held to the ears
whispering like an ocean Life sailed
gathers us all up and back in again
its heart whispering requests like tithes
our soft fortunes, it captures all souls
that hard and fast, sink and rise,
slowly we crawl, well salted
rhymes slide along wet tongues
lips to cups whisper dreams
drugged like prayers in silent communion
unheard strange language misunderstood
worldly yet their true meaning truly forgotten
each day tides high and drowning knowledge low
treacherous depths are intuitively followed
the Sun always rises; the Moon pulls us back in
by open hearts towards the Always Known —
some keys unlock the unknown way home
back into the ocean the closed are thrown,
they think they are alone
fish for new schools of thought
something of meaning rolls over-and-over
lost in the grasping wanting moments,
submerged we rise again in the wake
until we swim back up again sharp teeth
into Love’s light-strung net, feral minds
treasures sought each thought a jewel
the poetic savored and kept;
words followed like bait
are never alone.
No ocean is without a shore
its undulating song always
calling like a humming siren
to those rippling minds hypnotic
wading further out than the shallows
to turn around and stand
in the sands of time
listing reasons at the watermark
those poetic broken waves
ride us always, back home
to face the grand scheme of things
Candide Diderot. ‘25
Feral Carol was a dance hall girl.
Up on a barrel, she'd swing and swirl.
She never disappointed.
Her pelvis was disjointed.
And they love it when her tassels twirl.
tangerine morning
in a flame feral forest
deer dash, squirrels leap
"The sea, like life, is at once serene and wild. There is no choice other than being lulled by its serenity and smacked by its wilderness, in turn"- by poet
I stand on the sea strand,
Over the stretching sand.
Before me, waters roar,
Like a charging wild boar
Full of malice to tear.
I stand on the sea strand
The sea, advancing close
Sure it will spring on me,
As tiger, on a deer.
This predator called sea!
I stand on the sea strand
The rising wind whistling,
Waves on waves come crashing,
Sounds like the wolves howling
Seems hell bent on crushing
I stand on the sea strand
The thundering waves dash,
Pounding on huge boulders.
Oh, how helpless we are
Before these huge breakers!
_______________________
Placed First
April.6. 2022
Form- M- Monchielle- New Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
Theme- Sea
He was a Feral child.
Raised by wolves which made him wild.
Howling at the moon and sleeping in caves.
Watching the towns people digging his grave.
See, they thought he was dead.
He was young when he fled.
Because of his ignorant mother and father.
They had always said he was ungrateful, making him believe he was a bother.
So he cleared his shelve.
At the age of twelve.
And traveled to the top of a cliff.
But he saw some wolves and his things fell as they came to him for a sniff.
Now, the towns people had found his things.
And believed he was an angel who had earned his wings.
So they announced the poor death of the fairly young boy.
Which made his parents jump with joy.
But he was really in the caves.
Sleeping and dreaming of the waves.
And he felt like a bird who could finally fly.
He believed he would soon take off into the sky.
But no, the child remained in his cave.
With the wolves by his side who taught him to obey.
And he lived in peaceful ferality.
No longer awaiting his dreaded fatality
(This isnt very good but Im obsessed with Feral Children soooo)(Thats sounded kinda creepy)
The two feral cats
Into the backyard
Stepping on the deck
They stared inside
Then slowly waked by
Watching the glass door
One cat looks angry
The other is calm
I've given them names
One is Romeo
The other Patches
They come often
sometimes I am a cigarette burning into your/my skin
sometimes I am a corpse rotting into your/my dark
sometimes I am invisible
often this is a noiseless void
often this a soundless numbing
often I am wrong
CE - Capture/Exterminate
Not only is this inhumane, it doesn't work at any rate.
A "vacuum effect" is all that will create,
vacuuming outside ferals into a territory already great
for food, shelter and to repopulate.
Within a few months the very same problem you'll have to face.
CR - Capture/Relocate
Again, the "vacuum effect" is all that will create.
Outside ferals will move in after the others relocate.
Relocated ferals often live harsher lives before dying a harsh fate.
It doesn't work, and again is very inhumane at any rate.
TNR - Trap/Neuter/Return
The most humane and most effective solution,
for maintaining and controlling feral cat overpopulation.
A surgically fixed and healthy feral cat colony,
is beneficial to any and every human community.
They'll keep outside intact feral cats out of "their" territory.
Fights for mating rites will greatly decrease,
no more unwanted litters of kittens being born regularly,
all while keeping our community vermin free.
TNR feral cats provide a service for our community,
and in return all they ask from anybody,
is that we make their lives as comfortable as can possibly be.
There Is Only One
true feral cat option.
Oh, sweet feral poetess…..
Seeking a warm secret heart’s artistic home.
She cries and knocks but no one hears her.
In a community of poets the door is slammed.
Cold, silvered moolight makes thing worse.
So, she wrote over three thousand poems?
Her anguished sounds like a cat’s delicate purr.
Limericks, Monokus, are the current jam.
She’s too honest….is her humungus curse.
Poetess, under no circumstances give up!
You, with decades of life experience far from demure.
Write poems that only your heart demands.
Love and truth your heart commands
She walks solemnly in the hissing midnight rain.
Seeking a place of solace and warm rest.
Perhaps, a true friend will stand by her.,
Cover her, in friendships’ sweet, fragrant rest.
2/19/2023
O, feral feline, femme fatale
Her fancy footsteps faintly fall...
..In far-flung forests, in fables tall
Winged fairies flutter
Flights of fancy enthrall