Best Hissy Poems
Miss Kitty Katt was famous in the small hometown of mine
And Buster was the town dog -- never knew a boundary line.
Miss Kitty knew no limits except those she had drawn
Which included one she’d posted -- “All dogs stay off this lawn.”
She made it known some time ago and everybody knew
That no dog ever was allowed – they knew what would ensue.
Buster and Tom were hangin’ out. There ain’t no doubt up to no good.
Just out there strollin’ in the hood – Looked up and there Miss Kitty stood.
Now Tom, he knew Miss Kitty -- and Buster was his friend.
And he recognized the trouble they both would soon be in.
Miss Kitty started hissing the way that mad cats do
She had been here many times before and knew just what to do.
She just made straight for Tom with fire in her eyes
Anyone who saw her knew her hate was not disguised.
Miss Kitty’s scream was piercing -- her intent, there was no doubt,
They were walking in her yard and she meant to drive them out.
Ol’ Tom he realized just what there was in store
Since he had also been here many times before.
It sure should draw some water that he was of her kind
But all ol’ Tom could think about was savin’ his behind.
Salvation soon trumped honor and Valor? --- Nowhere to be found.
Tom quickly realized he had no choice – he knelt down to the ground
Miss Kitty in her hissy fit soared right o’er ol’ Tom’s back.
And Buster stood there helpless to handle the attack.
What happened wasn’t pretty and Buster had no doubt
This crazy maddened mama cat was there to take him out.
Nothing could be said or done to change what was to be
When Buster, with a side step knocked Miss Kitty to her knees.
I suppose we’ll always wonder just what went on that day
When Buster and the Tom Katt just went out to play
The Morning News has brought up questions about this strange event
Like how Buster got his broken leg and where Miss Kitty went.
Upon the waters waiting still,, a scudding duck decends.!
Dragonflies hover over blossoms and leeches deep,
Geese shake their heads, as they are passing the fronded willows, in verdant pleats
Hissy hiss is all they say,with their blatant contempt for the lush summers day!
The ganders enjoying their swaggering time on this fecund month of may.
While on meadow banks are waxing longer the source of septembers hay
Near lily pads
A gaggle of goslings go
Deep yellow fluffing they bob
Eyes on mom stay (close)
Egrets stream like banners
( Art white) on aqua skies.
Joe Maverick for Constance La France's four beautiful birds contest.
copyright may 2011
There once was a serious Missy,
who took a fit a bit like a hissy.
When the man she was dating
took his clothes off while bathing.
Left her completely in a tizzy.
It's a melodrama. Try to picture the drama queen
A bit actress lying on the floor in her final scene
Her lips trembling, tears running down her face
ruining her makeup in a gown of satin and lace
You won't win any Oscars, Honey. Not this time
Take lessons, hon. You can't act worth a dime
She's quick to blame everyone, but not herself
She claims innocence, but she's an imp, an elf
She's been insulted, but that's a falsified claim
Seriously, is she for real, or is warring her game?
No one has called her cruel names, not one of us
She's just a sad soul to have created such a fuss
Some poets are thin-skinned and misunderstand
that comments made are not given as a reprimand
But lo and behold... she sure came out swinging
like a bat out of hell with her accusations slinging
So lady poet, try and get a good grip on your life
No one is out to get you or cause you bitter strife
No one has rattled your cage or crushed your soul
and no one is bullying you with the acts of a troll
Your mean-spirited diatribes should reach an end
Maybe then you'll feel better; able to comprehend
You keep blowing a whistle without a good reason
and you've made yourself a victim of poetic treason
I'm wondering why you think your views are fine
and I should not be allowed to give voice to mine.
I didn't call you ugly names, neither of us did that
so stop clawing at us like some hissy spitting cat
It haunts you like shadows inside your imagination
So let it go and stop the outlandish discrimination
Don't you see that the delusions inside your head
are figments in your mind; things that you dread?
Farewell, then, AUKN boss,
The next this year makes three.
By the time they find a substitute,
Slovenes will be at sea.
He tried to cover his behind;
AUKN boss of bosses,
As every week, balances grew bleak:
He weighed merits and losses.
With all this he'd no time to eat,
And round and round he flew.
And now he's split in a hissy-fit;
So helmsman, too-de-loo!
Day after day, day after day,
He drifted on the ocean;
Guano-vernment rained on his ship
Their suggestions for promotion.
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Corporate boards crosslink;
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Let's take you for a drink.
Accountants talking rot: O Christ!
Missions, visions - oh please!
Yea, slimy characters need legs
And slimy policies.
So has he done an hellish thing?
Not hired who? We dunno:
Was it absurd, to have a separate curd
From the whey Slovenia owes?
This wretch won't play, after 60 days;
Pissflaps, he'll have to go!
God help ya, gospod Bencina
From the fiends, that plague us thus! -
It's time to go — shot like cross-bow,
The AUKN boss.
Ah! walk-out day! what evil looks
Had I from Ernst and Young!
Who's at a loss? AUKN's boss
Wouldn't take a bung?
"You'll be" quoth one, "abolished - no
Stigma to double-cross."
He chose to go - why? We don't know:
Harmless AUKN boss.
Re-reading the original gave me a great idea for dinner until I realised all the storks have all flapped off to Africa for the winter. Pity, as I have some ancient marinade from Tuš. Like the subject of the poem, I didn't have the stamina for a Coleridge-length effort.
Story: http://www.sloveniatimes.com/total-mess-in-state-owned-capital-asset-management
The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand interprets important Slovenian affairs for the non-Slovene speaking world. www.maria.si
Having an inflated ego is detrimental to living a good life
It's a self-serving trait that can lead to tragedy and strife
One who's overconfident is arrogant, his hubris is rife
Overplaying his hand will cut like the blade of a knife
Some think they're better than the rest but should beware
of what happened in the race between tortoise and hare
When a hand is overplayed, there are screams, "Not fair!"
Pompous are those who are caught in their own snare
People who are uppity and conceited are easily derailed,
throwing a hissy fit when they find their ship has sailed
Dealing themselves a hand, but overplayed, it failed
They'd not be in a fool's paradise if modesty had prevailed
Narcissistic egotists seldom change. They don't understand
that when losing cards lie on the table, openly fanned,
they'd have been better off if they hadn't acted so grand
Those who overplay a hand, need a rebuke of reprimand
Taking everything for granted, with pleasure they boast
With excessive vanity, they need attention more than most,
but if I were to lift a glass, as if to honor them with a toast,
it would obviously be satirical and more indicative of a roast
November 21, 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 33 Contest
Sponsored by Eward Ibeh
My old boss was really the pits
He’d shout and have HUGE hissy fits
At the end of the day
I received little pay
I got to the end of my wits
I did work for him as a cleaner
He was rude and couldn’t be meaner
I have to admit
I told him I QUIT …
I hated his work and demeanor!
Fictional write!
Contest Resignation
Sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron
What to Buy?
Avoiding clothes again this year
You have strange taste; so wipe that sneer
The tie that you said “blew”
And your hissy fits too
The men’s department? I’ll stay clear!
For some a gift card would be nice
But you whine over every price
No hobbies have you, dear
You even find sports *****
So what do I buy you? Think twice!
Please drop the act; I’m not buying
Cross-dressers are known for lying
Victoria’s Secret
Silk panties, your pocket?
For my high heels we’ll be vying
Dragon sat in the bushes all night long, for he wanted to catch himself a Leprechaun.
See Leprechauns have gold by the buckets full, and Dragon wanted himself… some.
So our sly little Dragon had put a lit up rainbow, on our garage door, to be cast on…
St. Patrick’s Day was in the morning, and he wanted some of those golden charms.
He’d read: You gotta get up, so very early, to be able, to even a little, trick those guys.
For those wily Leprechauns are the cleverest critters, which were ever seen… to arise.
So Dragon had dressed up in the Irish green, topped with a cute little Leprechaun hat.
You see, Dragon believed he was, the slyest thing, put on this earth, here… ever… yet.
Sure enough, at the break of dawn… a Leprechaun came snooping, stealthily around.
Strangely, he looked about 3 years old, the same age of our Dragon, or there, around.
They hit it off immediately, with so much in common, at that tender age and time.
Finally together, they dug up the pot of gold, which the Leprechaun’s magic did rise.
They had decided to share the wealth, of any gold, they did hope to some how find
But darn, the Leprechaun was unhappy, at the small amount of gold before his eyes.
He swore our Dragon had dug it up early, and already taken his own share… after all…
Dragons were known to be the greediest things ever put on this earth, he did recall.
Yes, he’d seen thru Dragons disguise, and had seen the wily-ness of it all… so true…
So the Leprechaun threw a crying hissy fit, the likes of which Dragon had never knew.
He raged on and on, how his new best friend could ever think to cheat him, Boo Hoo!
Now, Dragon began to feel very guilty for what he had originally, truly, wanted to do.
So in the end he gave it all away, to his newest best friend, who left without an adieu.
At that our dear little Dragon, felt proud for what he had finally achieved and done.
That is until he looked at his own little bitty horde of gold… that was suddenly gone!
Yep the little Leprechaun, had stolen it fast away! With his magic he had transferred…
Dragons gold to the Leprechauns beloved pot! Now Dragon became enflamed at it all!
At what the Leprechaun had done… Until Grandpa Troll reminded him with the moral:
Don’t be surprised… if you get burned… when you play with fire, my little friend!
The End!
Written 3-17-2017
Some green some blue saying how do you do
some you sniff some you swallow some you puff from a bottle
some are big some are small some make you feel ten feet tall
some bring you up some take you down some have your head spinning around
feeling good got that hit and believing at anytime you can quit
but you come down from that high and with life you can't cope
so you run out to the nearest corner looking to score some more dope
Thought you had it all together thought you could handle it
but when you're without it you throw a real hissy fit
It's presence is overwhelming when it gets you in its grip
and if youre not careful your life will become a long drawnout trip.
Vivid contrasts emanate lively hues
from the brilliancy of colors,
to radiate skin, hair and eyes;
and these are the wishes of all lovers!
He's a handsome man in a dark suit well-pressed,
and she's a beautiful woman in a scarlet dress;
he doesn't like ladies with flashy clothes,
and she only likes guys with ripped shirts!
Amelia fascinates her partner with her adorable smile,
Riccardo's blue eyes see a woman no man can resist;
and with his sexy eyes and killer's looks makes his conquest;
how exciting she seems and how happy she is to feel alive!
Their cheeks occasionally touch as kisses of a soft wind,
passion arises, but the dance must end with a standing ovation;
they're the only perfect pair who are rehearsing and getting recognition,
other dancers are getting impatient and are dying to come in.
The violin and piano begin to play in full harmony, " Un Ballo In Maschera,"
and all the guests come out gracefully to join the masquerade ball without timidity...
wearing luxurious and colorful costumes of the legendary Venetian Era;
and they elegantly dance on the diamond-shaped floor, trying to gess each other's identity.
The chorus adapts a moderato tone as wished by the conductor's baton, as the harmonic tones
accompany the high pitched soprano, who suddenly bursts out in a hissy scene;
she shouts, "My Riccardo has betrayed me! Take his mask off, and let him see me!"
And while the melody is embellished by the harmony, in anguish, she discords her vivid notes.
Entered in Brian's Strand contest, " Colours "
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
new dog on the porch
our pet cat at the window
shrieks like a banshee
Indignation hair-raisingly sounded
when our “queen” cat was more than astounded
by the new pet Dad brought
to the house. Cat wailed “NOT
on MY watch.” Then that poor dog she hounded.
our cat’s hissy fit goes down as the worst in her catdom’s hiss-tory.
Jan. 25, 2022
For Charles Messina's Charlie Hai-Lim-Ku Poetry Contest
(inspired by a YouTube Video I saw on FB. it just cracks me up)
The cold and drafty dark castle nights,
eating boars head like its going out of style,
having new battles every other week,
God forbid if you had a yellow streak,
Women wearing long gowns which were warm,
except for their exposed cleavage and throats,
it's no wonder they all didn't catch pneumonia,
while working their spinning wheels from their sofas,
And better not fall into their shark filled moat,
the chances of living being very remote,
and if by chance you missed the drawbridge going up,
if your a midget, don't try to jump for it,
Better you not disagree with the king,
or he'd tie you down to the pendulum swing,
or worse yet if you were on his enemy list,
he'd do a lot more than just have a hissy fit,
But for fun they'd all watch the jousting match,
seeing who would get spear tipped by the lance,
every weekend they'd lose yet another injured man,
the men only competing because they'd get a free ham,
Every once in a while the troubadour would come round,
trying to cheer them up by acting like a minstrel clown,
just barely making it there by the skin of his teeth,
pulling all the arrows out of his seat,
As for animal entertainment a man would have to be desperate,
thinking a ordinary bear would always just relent,
having the bear stand up and dance around to the din,
the bear obviously hungry devouring the mans limb,
Whereupon the plague arrived right out of the blue,
as if the medieval people didn't have enough worrying to do,
suspiciously thinking it arrived because of out of habit,
"a pox upon you!" was said for harassment.
11-12-16
No one ever had a more devoted super patron.
He marveled at every painting and poem I thought up.
He cheered at each of my gaudy crazy color choices,
He toasted all my thoughts with a golden glass tribute cup.
He wanted to buy all, the first time I had a white arts and crafts carnival tent.
I was against this of course, wanting a chance to sell to others, to share my soul.
This life is not yours, he said, you are more sensitive, artistic, heaven-sent.
But I wanted to sell to excited children, and their mothers, that was my goal.
My marvelous patron talked me into selling online, and that worked out for a bit.
I was gleeful and happy and awhirl with joy with each sale, so tried and true.
But when I went to visit him, and saw each painting in his home, I threw a hissy fit.
I wanted to sell to others, I said, I didn’t want all of them to be sold to you.
Now when I sell a painting or a poem, I run home all aquiver, excitedly glad.
Sales always chase away any insane feelings of disappointment or unexpected gloom.
I have a patron who believes in me, a man who is honest, and never a cad.
Best of all, to deliver it, all I have to do is walk to my own living room.
Come out from behind that
distant cloud, don't be so
bashful, we won't hurt you.
Spring flowers delaying
their growth without
your light to shine on them.
Gardens having hissy fits,
without your heat to
dry up the water that
the rain sent.
So don't be bashful, or shy
come on out and shine for us
once again.
Written 5-23-11