Best Let The Cat Out Of The Bag Poems
How silly of you
to think you are silly!
Do you think folks just visit your page
willy-nilly?
Does one come for the show
and leave with all forgotten?
To think this is so
is really quite wanton.
It is too linger in the mouth,
to be savored through out the day.
Uncensored and full of life,
let the pieces fall where they may!
Could it be, Eileen,
that people don't just stop for the rhymes.
But maybe because
through your poems, they see a beautiful mind?
Could it be perchance,
they long for a dance,
through the avenues of a peculiar soul
that isn't copy-and-paste,
without frills and waste,
but in fact is part of the greater whole?
We see glimpses now and then
through your ink and through your pen.
But don't go on believing
that you've let the cat out of the bag, just yet.
(This is Eileen Ghali, after all ... lest we forget!)
In response to Must It Be For Contest.
You might take this with a grain of salt
Knowing I heard it on the grape vine
Why they let the cat out of the bag
I'd say your guess is as good as mine
They say I tend to sit on the fence,
Off my rocker by not a far cry
That I'm not playing with a full deck
They should let those sleeping dogs lie!
Because there's method to my madness,
And I'm to blame if things go south
So I'm not beating around the bush
You heard it straight from the horses mouth!
He looks outside the window of the moving train,
Watching the dripping pattern,
Made by the drops of rain,
His mind far away from the present happenings.
His eyebrows twitch,
As he wonders how he is going to drop the news,
To his expectant wife,
And four little kids.
Retrenchment till further notice...
She sits at that bench in the middle of the park,
Staring into space,
The wind blows strands of misplaced hair into her face,
She tries weighing alternatives,
Their pros and cons,
Let the cat out of the bag,
And possibly end two lives,
Or simply get rid of the developing one,
And save her own...
Unexpected pregnancy...
C.E.O,
Carefully and tactfully engraved,
On that wood stamp,
He swings on his chair,
Enjoying the dizziness that comes with it,
Because for a minute or two,
It takes his mind from all his worries and care,
But fantasy doesn't last long,
And he is back to reality.
His status and wealth,
Couldn't do much for him,
He wishes he could turn back time...
HIV positive
We are lost in our own jungle of worries,
Either that or this,
Where to get money, love, food, shelter,
What to tell him or her,
How to change our weight,
Height,
Complexion,
Complaining why things don't go our way,
Forgetting someone somewhere,
Wishes to be in our shoes,
Because their own situation,
Is way worse...
And from up above He looks,
The only thing in His mind...us,
Wondering why we couldn't simply trust,
Obey...
At his feet our burdens lay,
Forget what others will say,
Ask for His help...control,
And in His presence choose to stay,
He could do anything for us,
We just have to ask...
There is no other way...
Love.
When you have a secret, it should never be told,
Cause you made a promise that you must uphold;
Promising never to utter a word,
Not one single syllable to ever be heard;
And telling that secret is like breaking a tie,
It is even worse than telling a lie;
Once you let the cat out of the bag, you can’t win,
Cause letting it out is easier than putting it back in!
~For Constance's Cat Woman Contest~
cutting corners to let the cat out of the bag feeling under the weather adding insult to injury Break a leg A piece of cake costs an arm and a leg killing two birds with one stone Speak of the devil hit the nail on the head Once in a blue moon You can’t judge a book by its cover
The facts of life, O birds and bees,
how getting aroused, can trigger a sneeze,
Weird as it seems, science explains,
this behavior’s no contagious disease,
Apparently nasal erectile tissue,
caused this quirk during evolution,
Was used to discern erotic pheromones,
isn’t that a nice upstanding resolution,
Autonomic reflex gets overloaded,
in which we have no control,
If you have a secret admirer,
an Achoo! could betray their goal,
Now I’ve opened Pandora’s box,
let the cat out of the bag,
Instead of social distancing,
sneezes might encourage a shack,
This poem has some side effects,
even strange permutations,
God bless you! never be the same again,
could construe carnal allegations,
Strange this evolutionary mixup,
is still embedded in our genes,
Contemporary signals of interest,
usually belay bulging jeans,
I’m going out on a limb here,
for better no definitely worse,
Did we humans in our primeval past,
grunt prelingual dirty words,
So many questions surround,
basic instincts of procreation,
Least of which erogenous zones,
are open to interpretation,
Like whispering sweet nothings,
a turn on, in each other’s ears,
Call out the ex’s name by mistake,
your lusty night might end in tears,
So if dressing up like Snow White,
and think someones getting sleazy,
Take it easy on the small guy,
he may just be acting out sneezy.
By
David Kavanagh
cyou ramble with his poetry
book after book
but you are not a rose,
you are not a thorn
neither virgin, nor the whore
of his better days
under neon lights
and the sweat of inspiration
crying with Orbison and Lang
the touch that caressed
you deep
in the psyche of
your human jungle
you its prey,
and you build another empire
in the dust of your involution,
exhaling the animal instinct of a poem
you are its flame, but never quite
catch on fire
dirty dishes speak on your behalf
half-smoked
cigarettes stare vacantly into your eyes,
wine-stained sheets mix with
the semen of discontent,
the tenderness
of his poem,
escaping...
don't bother me with the logic of precision
just now,
don't look into my weaknesses:
your lacerations have disaffected
any meaning;
my residual defenses
and your "abstract" poetry
gnaw
my barefoot goddess image
like rats on an outing, like a chain
gang
don't let the cat out of the bag:
take my picture from your frame,
it's ten miles to the finish line and
one thousand and one feet from the edge,
I'm not finished reading
my headstone, my epitaph
blurs in the distance.
summer leaves are falling into the
missionary position,
somewhere a lotus blossom opens
and a newborn baby cries,
rivers flow into the wellspring
of what poems offer:
the unlikelihood of courage.
Form:
I began planning your surprise party over a month ago. I’ve spent many hours over the last few weeks conspiring with your friends and family, all of us working towards the goal of keeping you clueless. Although, that has been a nearly impossible task, I have to say. Considering, you are always so aware of your surroundings, and never let your guard down around anybody. You don’t know how many times I almost let the cat out of the bag, because when something exciting is happening in my life it is you, I want to tell first. I have wanted to tell you since day one, but to see the look of surprise on your face, in that moment of pure happiness will make all of our hard work well worth it. It has taken some true teamwork to pull this off successfully. The date has arrived and it is almost time for you to come home. Soon, you will be walking through that front door. I can’t wait to see your face when you see all of the streamers and balloons that took us all day to hang, placing each item in a precise location. All of the preparations are coming down to the one moment that is almost here. I hear the doorknob rattle, and it slowly begins to turn. We all scatter and run to our hiding places the way a cockroach does when the light comes on in a darkened room. The door cracks open and in you walk as we all jump out from our hiding places, shouting “surprise!” at the top of our lungs. Then, with a stunned look, you hit the floor.
Moon left the sky and the sun is about to shine
There is mild wind from the north and sparrows are singing together
There are reminding us it's morning and we have to wake up
But I couldn't draw the curtains and let the world see you
If only I let the cat out of the bag, it would be too tough to get you back again
The whole world envy me coz I'm the first one who is touching you this way
My hands are wide open for the whole part of your body
And how harmonized it is when it get lost in my white skin
Then who dares to stop us?
The nature? Other creature? Or even our nurture?
None of them coz we are the one in the same texture.
The lesser of two evils, do two wrongs make one right?
The bullets may have steel hulls, but it takes powder to ignite.
The elephant in the room, can't be seen.
It's a skeleton in the closet, for too long it has been.
So bite the bullet, let the cat out of the bag.
Kick the bucket, give the lake a drag.
From rags to riches, from pillar to post.
You left your duty, when it needed you most.
The lesser of two evils, do two wrongs make one right?
The bullets may have steel hulls, but it takes powder to ignite.
Fall on your sword, fall on your knees.
Accept the cure, you are the disease.
At the drop of the hat
Let the cat out of the bag
Beat one's head against the wall
be at someones beck and call
Keeping one's eye on the ball
have a whale of a time
Blow someone's mind
With this idioms rhyme
Be on cloud nine
as you vale your tears
then Bend your ears
fear has no colors
At an arm's length
you have a tower of strength
leave one to ones fate
head over heels
feeling all you fee
For months we have not
let the cat out of the bag
Eyes talk indirectly
Eyes read
Eyes right.
Have I told you that I go crazy sometimes?
God saw Flood's "Ingredients" snag
That let the cat out of the bag
The Devil cried, "Weed!"
The Angels agreed,
"Let's change his facemask to a gag!"
Tell me all your plans this day
The dreams you hold inside
Are there no clouds upon your horizon
No storms to ruin your day
tell god all your wishes for the future
Talk about the good times that will be had
you plan out your retirement
for the sunset of your life
with sunny holidays on tropical isle’s
And the grandkids you will hold tight
Lots of money in your bank account
and a roof above your head
designer cloths and brand new motor cars
Is what you see a future that’s bright
But all the time god is laughing
As that’s not written in his plan
Will he spill the beans
and let the cat out of the bag
or just listen to your prayers and wishes
and then give out a massive belly laugh
First crawl
I learnt to crawl in a tie,
Banker’s suit and smile on a lucky tot.
Learning the secrets of trades and service,
I’d make a difference with my skills,
And earn some money on the side.
I learnt to crawl with tons of rules,
To master the job, I turned a thousand pages.
To prove my worth, I hugged every mentor,
And cleaned their messes without a fuss.
A good tyro carries the teacher’s boots.
And like a robot, I emptied the bins,
I crunched the numbers and wrote memos.
The keys devoured the prints off fingers,
With no responsibilities, I could endure,
Endure for hours past closure.
Only crickets heard my crackling back at night,
“When learning to crawl, you practice, you know,
Perfect practice makes practice perfect…”
I was too young to care, they’d say.
Even so I withered to a bag of bones.
Still learning to crawl,
I bore her bag without a word,
And at the seat of grilling for review,
Never let the cat out of the bag for,
Sometimes it scratches the bearer;
T’was a secret sauce of wisdom, lucky to learn!
I was learning to craw and,
I walked the miles for a scrap of unfair share.
And never tasted a slice of the cake.
A toddler never runs the race of grown-ups.
A crump is enough to blind the eye.