Best Furred Poems
Ah, sweet slumber of nip-laden dreams;
the milk of mother moon bestowed,
a blessed drink and lactose-free
to this mine humble, feline throat.
Running freely through outer space,
I touch upon thy blessed universe.
My home of emerald and lapis lace,
is where in I lay in furred repose.
Chasing neon rainbows in nebulae bright,
my dreams are filled with gold doubloons.
I’ll spend them on treats and nip-delight,
and chase away any greedy tycoons.
A feline black as obsidian night,
in a home filled with human love;
among the faeries and tree sprites,
mind flies just like the doves.
Mangy-Monkey;
Gum thief.
Raggle-taggle,
Tail-waggle;
Bone-breath.
Gaggling geese,
Webbed feet;
Penny-anney,
Corn-candy.
Snakes-alive,
About five;
Or six,
Playing tricks.
Babbling brook,
Nearby nooks
And crannies;
Harboring teeth.
Fighting bribing,
Monkey-see,
Monkey-do.
Fickle-furred,
Out-turned
Waddle-feet,
Bearing bird.
Roaring-money,
Never tamed;
Hungry for
Avian-brain.
Itchy-scratchy,
Eggy-hatchey;
Teeny-tiny,
Shells cracking.
Tourists gawking,
Feathered-squawking;
Metallic-clanging,
Cage doors.
All this,
Attended quick;
When hungry
Bellies roar.
I believe, I may have missed the boat
The water’s deep, I couldn’t float
Perhaps the marks I set weren’t high
The tide’s in now – I’ll wave bye-bye
I read Thoreau and Frost, I know
Of wilderness and falling snow
Of Roads Not Taken tongue in cheek
Of singing trees and babbling creek
With pomp and ceremony flyin’
I stopped to sniff a dandelion
To watch a honey bee rejoice
At making such a tasty choice
I sit beside the croaking pond
A heron blending with the frond
A muskrat watches warily
A dragonfly upon my knee
My pants are frayed, my kayak weathered
I share my time with furred and feathered
Visiting these woods, their home
Leave them, as I came, alone
Written: Jun 2nd, 2026, for a contest sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
****************
A poetic reply to a piece created by Nobel Prize winner and Mexican poet /writer, Octavio Paz:
There is not
A single soul among the trees
And I
Don't know where I've gone.
"I step—"into the quiet rising from trees,
my fingers are tracing the cold, resistant bark.
"The path— waits, thin as~a breath before speaking"
Birds' flight testifies~our souls prowl woods.
"The wind—" fails to read~the omen of fate,
A frightful form frays from a furred finger.
"The gap—" between roots is all that we are;
a wraith, fumbling for skin~outruns my frantic stride.
"I follow—" until its echo threads my footsteps,
and I am found, rooted to~disappear...
The woods hissed and sn*ggered but weren't without their charms
A ghostly silloette in the distance like a girl without her arms
A floating figure, lifted as if hung down from yarn, puppet like
Blocked out some light as the moon rose into sudden night
A puddle, suprized by the kick of life it was given
Dived over the crimson clothing of a passer by
Not batting an eye the shadow glides an leaps in wind
Approaching a tree supporting a corpse beneath its limbs
The breeze's secretive so it seems the bodies breathin' sings
Arrived. A cloak hides its features, a bag opens, it reaches in
Still speachless in the shower, yet no wet words to greet us
Though now a mouths visible behind work of an expert seemstress
Wild weather beats the woodland creatures deep undercover
All but two inhabitants, the hooded one.. & one other
Our second stood, furred thickly, big teeth in a brown jaw
Having difficulty reading, vision blurred by the downpour
Lit by light the town brought, a poster was just clear enough
''Assassin Wanted! If you catch the killer, fear you should
For finding this foe will bring, not tears, but blood
And a reward of 10 g's for anyone, police.. even Robin Hood'
The final statement sent shivers up his spine, an how then?
The King hated Robin, and the Queen signed the announcement
Heart poundin' at the thought of ten big ones he couldn't wait for
The character reread the paper, rapid fast.. just to make sure
Sure enough the word was good, but the woods weren't silent
A twig broke, someone close quitely worked beside him
The tree sustaining the message had been blocking them from view
The otherside was a hooded person, white stockings an gloves on too
The hood moved......and the disguise unravelled
It was Red Riding Hood picking mushrooms the size of apples
A pretty oak sits outside my window pane in the snow and in the rain
Covered with life, outside the balcony fifty steps away
Decorating the tree with flashes of red, black, grey, yellow and white,
are his friends the cardinals , squirrels , chickadees and the tufted titmice
They sing , chirp, and chatter in harmony of song
As the seasons pass, we live thru heat, drought , cold and rain all year long
I keep my feeder close at hand and watch as they load up in waves of two and three
to make their run at the seeds and grain
The leaves are green now and vibrant with life, in the fall the acorns grow and my tree stands tall
At winter they covet the warmth and provide a shelter for the thick furred grey squirrels
A lovely little hole in the crook of the branch big enough for two to snuggle and borough
They race down these pathways in the sky, playful as skilled acrobats
October mornings the leaves are falling , making noisy whispering sounds
the first rays of sun turn frost into a million twinkling stars on the ground
The two winged take refuge in their nest , built carefully for warmth and rest
To nurse and raise their young , making them fit for another generation of the best
The seasons flow as a quiet pond and like our beautiful life
everything is real with very little strife
Among the colorful citizens of this merry place I give life in equal exchange
for joy and a chance To sit and watch my friends as I grow old and enjoy life in the sun
But life changes, very unfair , and I am denied my playground in the sky
one day some men came and cut all the beauty down
Now its gone all butchered and bare nothing left but a big hole in the ground
Dogs dogmatically guard the home
Sounding the alarm with a growling bark
As owners are alerted to the threat
Miscreants flee into the dark
Cats are categorically useful too
Their mouse-tracking skills renowned
When a feline is prowling on patrol
Rodents scurry underground
But rabbits are a tougher sell
Their herbivore hunting skills quite moot
Unable to save the day or keep vermin at bay
They mostly sit there looking cute
Rabbits are thin-skinned as well
There's one faux pas you must not commit
Please do not call them rodents
Order Lagomorpha is where they fit
Why then do we delight in ours
The doe we call simply “Bunny” ?
It's cuz her antics provide comic relief
When she yawns it looks so funny
Bunny blithely flips her little plate
A curt review of pet shop food
She’s holding out for blueberries or kale
Depending on her mood
Baby carrots and parsley sprigs
Make for a tasty Bunny lunch
She regales us with her table talk:
Munchity, crunchity, crunch
After a hard day’s work, I come home
To my gray-and-white-furred friend
She’ll run to be picked up and petted
And my stresses are at an end
Yes, Bunny is priceless to us
And she certainly earns her keep
Familial duties done for the day
On a little throw pillow she falls asleep
_______________________________
for contest: Furry Friend
Sponsored by: Royal T
They call him Snerd,
Snerd the bird,
But he’s not as absurd
As Lerd the third.
Now that’s a bird,
Whose squawks are blurred
With fanciful words
That I’ve never heard.
Now I overheard,
Lerd the third,
Say our friend Snerd,
Is actually furred;
Like from a herd,
That’s not of birds,
Of which wrong stirred
Our lovable Snerd.
So perturbed Snerd
Was then referred,
To, Rare Bird
Who lives undeterred
In the cliff’s of Hurd.
Then to our friend, Snerd,
Rare Bird conferred
These few good words.
“Friends are preferred,
So don’t be spurred
By Lerd the third.
He’ll be transferred
With other cur’ds
On Monday the third.”
Said, Rare Bird of Hurd,
Word for word.
So our friend, Snerd
Dispatched these words
To Lerd the third.
“Your curse words
Will not be endured!
I’ve since matured,
And have secured
The truth from Rare Bird.”
What then occurred
Is Lerd the third,
Was left unsecured
With his own herd
Of the absurd.
And we’ve been assured
He’ll soon be interred
Unless he gets cured.
Unquotable quotes – VII
What comes in through one ear goes out through the rear.
Give him a wench and, he’ll want her to be French.
Give him an inch and he’ll take no small pinch.
Better be swallowed by a whale than be torn to shreds by a
shark of a girl in a gale.
The praying mantis kills after she copulates in bliss ; the
predatory woman drills a hole in your bank account first
before she kills for a thrill.
The banana kills its bearer for the latter cannot bear another.
Take the pillow but not the widow
Marry her sister if she’s fatter.
Frogs in a well croak well in hell.
A crab walking straight is out of gait.
(continuing the series from UQ - VI)
We are all sinners under bums.
We are all looters under swarms.
We are all marchers under drums.
We are all dreamers under balms.
We are all loafers under palms.
We are all voters under domes.
We are all soupers under poems.
for Chrissie Morris-Brady
If you call a spade a jade, you’ve got it made
But if you call a maid a jade, you’re likely to get laid
Though if you call a maid in bed, you’re going to get wed
Yet if you call a maid to bed, you’re sure to be up-fed.
If you call a maid in a hurry, you’re likely to be sorry
Or if you call a maid in a lorry, you’re bound to worry.
If you called a lad dad, he’d likely not be glad
Yet if you called the lad bad, he’d certainly be sad
But if you called the lad mad, he’s bound to think you a grad.
If you called a nerd a turd, you could possibly get furred
But if you thought a Lord bored, you probably will get bored
Yet if you called a Lord a toad, he’ll have you all towed.
Then if you called a Knight tight, he’ll challenge you to a fight.
If you called a Baron daemon, he’ll think you were a doorman.
If you refer to Jude as a nude, you’re likely to get screwed
And refer to the nude as lewd, you’re bound to get brewed
And think of Dude as crude, there’s bound to be a feud.
If you called a squid a quid, it’s bound to think like a Druid.
If you call what you said dead, you’ll never ever get read
If you thought home food good, you must be a real hood
And rely on your word two-third, you sure are a dud.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Few hearts now weep to see you go
O cold harsh naked winter
The last icy tremor of your merciless winds
Fizzling through the choked air
Leaves it's thinning threads in
The oncoming fairyland of Spring.
Winter have you gone, answer me?
A refreshing winter you have been
But how we have longed for your departure
Away away and bury yourself, O harsh east wind
Go now, your season is over
Snatch off your furred coating
And bid welcome -
To a bursting singing Spring.
Welcome, welcome, first lady of creation
Your sweet scented grass sheds tears of dew
Tears of elation, as morning peeps.
As foetal clouds now bathe us
In your new re-birth
Winter threads it's skeleton hand
With it's new love Spring
And with it a new energy is born.
Greenery buds with purity and freshness
The orange canopy floods us with her mirth
While the swelling sun in giant splendour
Can no longer conceal
The first flush of Spring.
The world is awakened by it's mighty arrival
The dance of the daffodils is about to begin.
When bombs rained down a neighborhood
In Shiah, south Beirut one night
A brown haired boy tight clutched his toy,
A cuddly brown-furred bear, in fright.
And sobbing through the roaring din,
He whispered to his cuddly friend:
"Oh, Teddy, Teddy, hold me tight,
And stay until the bombings end."
The cuddly bear then softly spoke:
"My little friend, be not afraid.
Just hold my hand, and never cry,
We'll go to where all toys are made."
"We'll ride a fast, green, chugging train
That goes to Cave of Childhood Joy,
Just hold on tight and walk with me."
He told the brown-haired little boy.
And toddling off, they left in haste
To board the waiting silent train,
That left the station right on time
When all the other kids were in.
It softly chugged through tunnel bright,
Then reached the Cave of Childhood Joy.
All kinds of good things, there they saw,
And everywhere a brand new toy!
There, too, were dancing ice cream cones,
Brown trees with leaves of chocolate,
A bluebird singing on a branch:
"You're welcome all to choose and eat."
They did, and drank sweet soda pop
From spring they saw there flowing by;
They played on swings with silver chains,
While ponies neighed sweet lullaby.
Some drank fresh milk from gleaming cups,
And others picked sweet berries pink,
While others ate cream puffs so soft,
All fears just vanished in a blink.
The bear then told his little friend:
"I'll go to guard the tunnel door,
To stop the ants from getting in."
He left, and couldn't tell him more.
He hurried out that joyous place,
To bravely take his sentry post,
But bombs rained down the tunnel door
The entrance got, with rubble, lost.
And when rescuers came in haste,
To search through rubble for the boy,
They didn't find a trace of him,
But just his brave and cuddly toy.
On the hill, a mother
is desperate to nurse babies
who have gone still and silent,
with milk they'll never take
She knows they are not sleeping
but cannot bear to leave them,
so licks their tiny faces,
that they might come awake
She thinks if she can warm them,
then Winter will not want them
and Spring will find them happy
and hale, and furred, and free
As sorrow overwhelms her,
she curls herself around them,
soon dreaming in the way of
all creatures such as she
of fish in rippling water,
of game and earth. Of watching
her mate at play in powder,
unmindful of the chill
And when the Winter claims her,
she's chasing stars with children,
reborn among the flowers
that bloom upon the hill
I'm the darkest creature of the night, watching over marshes;
crickets fear me, making themselves invisible in grasslands.
I am harmless, merely an owl courting sister moon so lonely;
I take the nests of other birds that were devastated by squalls.
My enemies are the despicable bats that flap so vigorously.
I don't move, perched on a branch, I show them my claws...
they are a sure threat to make them move to another spot;
if they return, I'll fight to death until they decide to depart.
I am the scariest creature of the night, furred in black and gray;
this king of the wastelands, forests and plains is undefeatable;
although during the day, I hide in the hallowed trunk of an oak,
eagles constantly fly by unable to snatch me and be their prey.
Daytime keeps me from the outside world, and like bats I sleep;
many other creatures smaller than I crawl in bushes and shrubs...
such are lizards chased by snakes, but their speed is incredible.
Only in winter I am lethargic, in spring I hear frogs that croak;
of all the nocturnal fowls, I crave shadows in which frogs leap;
I can't befriend creature or man, only ants that gather crumbs.
I live in a bleak kingdom of moonbeams, of spells, of human sacrifices;
it's the mysterious realm of witches, wizards, harlots and spirits;
Lucifer is worshipped with bloody rites, virgins are slaughtered:
above God weeps unable to stop such a satanic madness!
No one hears the screams of death deep in the blazing woods,
they continue under my very glance, I alone seem powerless!
Were I a godly man, no cruelty would be done on this ground;
angels would be my allies, we'll defeat this wickedness with swords!
God made me an owl to stare and gleam through darkness;
if I started cooing, daft souls doing evil would come to their senses!
Entered in Eve Roper's contest,
" Owl Personification Form "
Written on 2/7/2016
He sits through eons observing whirling
galaxies in spangled drops dangled from webs
rocked by wind, plucked like instruments
whose music only he can hear; webs walked
by a furred arachnid, angle-legged, which moves
from thread to thread as though on stilts.
Fascinated by a spectrum split from sunlight
by a bead of dew, he intercepts the colored
bands with extended fingers of one fat hand
and gurgles his delight, exhibiting a still
toothless smile. His brain a sponge to soak
up all knowledge the universe contains,
this salivating son of simian evolution
pulls the silvery web he watches
from between the wall and faucet,
destroying in a moment
what centuries produced.
There's A Pedophile In The House...
(ah...ah...ah...ham eye white...???)
OMG,... and he looks...
SAY WHAT??? just like me???,...
absolutely NO WAY!!!,
would this sensitive,
respectful, "FAKE" veejay
quiet-natured, mindful,
loving, kind, underplay
justice invoking, hew today
mainly, gentle, friendly, "I say"
enlightened, democratic chap redisplay
any besotted abominable,
blamable, culpable, quay
esse chin hubble
despicable, execrable prey
dot door formidable,
inhospitable...overplay
ying faux indulgent,
NOR be mistaken
to assay, betray, convey,
display, expressway more fay
writ his'm to
gainsay hearsay, inveigh
jaw dropping "FAKE"
yuge weak accusations
(by a long shot), sans
basket of conspiring deplorables
attempting to assassinate
bigly believe me tubby "stupid"
winning loser to berate,
who doth unequivocally create
mine substantial vocabulary rumor,
versus 4th grade reading level
trumpeting librettist - thee great
test Don Quixote
(as falsely sung with hate
full sotto voce), and ramped up
as ill suited mate
a minus [sic] zero moron,
which doth hapt
tubby incredibly tremendous
disservice to bona fide classy idiots
with a lot of money
(like the millions and billions
of my golfing confrères)
given bent iron golf clubs
used by crooked Hillary,
when former Secretary of State
ideal for Putin on the Ritz
by far less exciting, with
Bill Clinton's flirtatious flits
trained pudenda purse
sin null property
of intern (NO FALLACY)
topped as southern delicacy dish
consume mated with buttered grits
pricked prurient peccadilloes licks
suddenly recalling seminal kicks
starting, how with Little Rock kits
he received assistance,
sans starts and fits,
eventually then nubile
ingenue Monica Lewinsky
called time out, cuz at her wits
end once assisting helping
express his "naughty bits,"
when done completing
cum mincecd secrete mission
blue dress draped
expensively furred
(i.e. tricked out) in her
"FAKE" minx hiding
sable animal spirits,
when animal rights
activists vehemently protested
out-coming result
slapping former president
with a PETA file.