Best Kat Poems
“Ink Artist Kat Von D Baptized, Leaves
The Macabre Behind”
“It’s never been clearer, there's a spiritual battle taking place” —Von D. Kat tossed materials that celebrated witchcraft and the occult: Tarot, books, her favorite dark chapeau. Trends go, or end in extreme measures. Sheep roam, following any shepherd. A spray of paint flies hither and yon from the needle of her ink gun.
This Kitty Kat is back
As a matter of fact
I was hit by a car, I was discouraged.
I let them get the best of me--
--Thanks for pushing me off the ledge.
After getting bitter attacks
I realize I have something they lack.
It's been 5 days since I left drop the soup
Then I realize these poets are a fun group
My daughter and sister are having fun without me
Did you hear, without me
I got a couple of things to clear
Cheers
I have an attitude change.
Who cares if things in here are strange
Give me the poetry news.
I will comment your Haiku, without having a clue
From now on I will be happy dandy, Meow Meow.
Until someone else makes me have a cow!.
Thanks for giving me the courage
Standing up to the poetry soup punks
SKAT
Mom,
why are you giving me such a liking for this Kit Kat?
A bar,
comprised of delectable, smooth chocolate,
ambrosial by just running my tongue over it
So crunchy it makes my teeth feel
like they’re skirring through sugary bits,
triturating them for my
beseeching tummy and heart to enjoy
It’s incredible
As sacred as gold
A while ago,
I’d cling to your heated shirt
like a baby koala
and we’d watch our nighttime cartoons
You’d pull out something from your stash,
a red-wrappered delight
to break off a piece for yourself
and bestow the other half to yours truly
I’d want another
Playfully reluctant, you were generous
This one,
although I had snagged it,
I partake it for my forebearer,
who surely needs sweetness the most
I never said that I didn't want to like Kit Kats,
but I’m exultant I do,
because of you
Katurday and Iz plazs wit mee talky kat,
Ohs, hooman, it go away, me ballz;
Don't be stoopit, you gits itz oks,
Iz not fit under that bigz chairees.
Hay, Iz not fat, Iz jst fluffy,
PLZ, I is sad, sad, sadz, look at meeze;
Gets me da ball oks and I plazs happi wit uz,
Iz lizd . . . the ballz eez all minz . . .
_______________________
March 13, 2016
Poetry/Spoonerisms/Katurday Wit Mee Kat
Copyright Protected, ID 16-767-810-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
I remember her garments of assigned spiritual gifts.
I remember her beautiful fashions and modeling shows.
I remember the first book she wrote and published.
I could never forget her Gospel meetings.
Her magazine was an unforgettable magazine.
In one sense, one could reckon her garments to be
permeated with a fruit of the spirit; and putting on
a garment could symbolize putting on a spiritual fruit.
This was indeed an art form, poetry walking across a stage.
Yes, I call to remembrance those fruitful and
productive years. That picture of the little boy
on the cover of 'Hope Magazine' was priceless, and
it spoke volumes. If I can remember all these things
about Kat, I have no doubt that it is impossible for God
to forget her and her unique brand of Christian ministry.
I also remember her adversities, challenges, and trials.
I cannot forget her illnesses nor her walking through the
valley of the shadow of death. None of God's servants has
ever been put on the shelf in the way we deem 'on the shelf'.
God is Sovereign and works in mysterious ways, His wonders to
perform. God is not one to be locked into a form or pushed into a
corner. Truly, like the song says, He is always working. Whether we
find ourselves on a shelf, or on a stage communicating Christ, or flying
across the sea to reach lost souls, God is always working. Furthermore,
God is presently working in, with, for, and through Kat. Also, you and me.
082422PS
Tribute to a fashion designer
Have you met my
mysterious Kat?
Some says she's invisible in
black,
Famous for catching the Rat
pack!
She once dated Tom,now it's
Jack,
Pussy dolls even got
into the act,
Signing her in a million
dollars contract!
A tour around the moon
with NASA and back,
But she would have none of
that,
A twist,turn and off like a
jet.
Hates flashlights and being
wet,
She would steal your heart
if you let,
She has more lives you can
bet.
No men has caught her in
their net,
She believes she is noone's
pet,
And the whole world is her
playground set.
I'll let you know she's not
leaving me yet,
What she wants she always
get,
Her match she has not met.
Most of all she stays with
me coz i'm fat.
She is my whitish blue
siamese cat!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Can you believe my fantasy girl is Kat Von D?
I’d lay down for hours to let her tattoo me.
She’s hot and gothic at the same time,
As her needle pierces skin, her ink flow rhymes.
A great portrait artist wearing jet-black gloves,
That goes with the style that she’s so proud of.
I get lost in the stars tattooed around her eyes.
Her sexy inked skin bearing a black-toned guise.
http://tlc.discovery.com/tv/la-ink/la-ink.html is the link,
And she’s the beautiful host of LA ink.
Nestled in her tattoo shop is where I’d like to be,
Can you believe my fantasy girl is Kat Von D?
______________________________________________
Inspired by Christie Moses’ Fabulous Fantasy Contest
When I am writing I have a companion/
no it's not human, it's an animal one/
a little black kitty that sits on my desk/
I love her to bits but she can be a pest/
Standing on the keyboard so that I make errors/
clawing my cushions to get to the feathers/
her tail in my face so that I can't see/
Her head in my cup drinking my tea/
Miaowing and squeaking to get my attention/
But I cannot work with such intervention/
if I bribe her with food and make sure she's fed/
she might in a while curl up on her bed/
but her fat little belly she brings to my side/
and watches me typing with eyes open wide/
reaches her paws across both my hands/
and flops on my lap like a world weary man/
She's must think my lap is very inviting/
or maybe she wants me to write some exciting/
Adventuress story about things that i wish/
or maybe she's simply dreaming of fish/
With her little button nose and her oriental eyes/
She watches the birds circling round in the skies/
She's a cute little bundle, i'll give her that/
but I really can't work with a cat in my lap/
There once was a very large cat
who once ate a very small rat
The rat tasted very bad
and made the cat very sad.
Kat is
Abuses,
Tortured
Everyday
Venturing through dark waiting til
the
End
Down by the river can you picture me here?
Fishing pole in hand, sipping on a beer.
Life is just sweeter than sweet.
Hopefully by night there’ll be a good mess of fish for me to eat.
Well my line just went slack,
Now something seems to be a bringing it back.
Hope it’s a big ole blue cat a taking a bite.
He’ll be frying in the frying pan come later tonight.
I got my camp all set and a fire a burning low,
Cast iron skillet goes with me wherever I go.
Got cornmeal and fixings to make it taste right, you know bamm, I call it poww.
That was an ole blue cat and I’ve got him cooking right now.
Got taters and onions stinking up that ole grease,
Sure is good catfish reckon I’d better get me another piece.
Sure do wish ya’ll were all here,
Got plenty of catfish but you’ll have to bring your own beer.
Bring along a fishing pole or two,
Bait it up and throw it out is all you need to do.
This ole water hole is just plumb full of fish,
And cooking over the grill makes it simply delish.
I spit on my bait, throw it out, and in a minute or two,
I’m reeling in a catfish and betcha you can too.
For years she lived looking over her shoulder
She graduated from the school of hard knocks only to become a street soldier
She always fought with dignity and pride
Along the journey she watched as her street idols died
To society they were only theives, addicts, and hoes
Beneath thier masks lies a story no one knows
Have you ever been there?
Did you walk beside them as they went nowhere?
They are simply victims of thier own pain and affliction
Fighting more each day to stop the haunting of thier own affliction
Demons lurk inside the tainted souls as monsters creep
But I encourage you not to let your faith sleep
Let retired soldiers return to the street
Let them spread the message to all they meet
She always fought with dignity and pride
In her work lies the legacy of the street soldiers who died
She reaches out a gentle hand in hopes to save the broken man
She lives her life to save the lost soul
Maybe someday another street soldier may be made whole
We're going to the kitty kat, kitty kat, kitty kat.
Going to the kitty kat.
Kitty kat farm..
We're takin' a trip.
We're takin' it now.
We're takin' a trip.
Gotta get out of town..
There's lots of girls.
And lots of fun.
Down at the kitty kat.
The Kitty kat farm..
We're gonna find kitty, at the kitty kat farm..
And on that kitty kat.
You're gonna see a pretty kat.
On that kitty kat.
Kitty kat farm..
So we're going to the kitty kat, kitty kat, kitty kat.
Going to the kitty kat.
Kitty kat farm..
Copyright 2005,2014..
Kitty Kat Farm Song By Kim Robin Edwards
ALL rights reserved..
Blonde curls frame a picture
Painted with acrylic
Ballet slipper pink lips
A blinding smile
Flashes at me in my dark days.
She understands enough to know
Not to understand me.
Brambles tear at her wanderings
Her soul whispers painstaking
Goodbyes.
And she thought I didn't notice.
Her mind is a Van Gogh
Not quite Irises
More of a vast Starry Night
Full of complicated swirls and spirals
A mix of blue and white.
She wields her untamed mind like a dagger.
Sunset streaked skies form in her eye
And she paints them with thread.
Red wine and fusha scales
Interlocking
Like the ghost of her laugh that echoes
Over every joke shared
She's a kaleidoscope,
Fiery pastelles and tumbling emotions
Hell bent on perfection.
She builds her own rocket ships to the stars
Made of broken dreams,
Unfinished stories,
Iridescent memory.
She is loud,
A thunder of opinion.
I know better than to tempt her storm
I always do
And lighting strikes.
She dances with flame,
For they are jealous of her spark.
She's a lipgloss wonder
With eyelashes reaching for the moon.
Gimme a break from the long day at work.
A piece of mind that doesn't fly by soon as it starts.
Not of discrimination but of a demanding boss.
Time but a snap of a bar.
Gimme a break from negative interpretation.
In terms of being under appreciated.
A smile that encourages the rest of the day to come that much faster.
The commercial before we continue our regular scheduled programming.
Gimme a break before our stature completely seperates.
If only for a moment.
To savor a taste stumbled upon in bulk.
Complex in the pieces we give of ourselves.
Chocolate covered us wrapped in orange.
Fully appreciated in standout appearance.
The smile brought to my mouth.