Best Mews Poems
This is written in acknowledgement to the lovely sweet men and wonderful Poets on Poetry Soup who have supported and encouraged me since I first joined. PSST! I’m certain they all have a sweet-tooth.
Demetrius Trifiatis, Silent One, Paul Callus, Victor Buhagiar, Chris Green, Peter Duggan and Darren White, Robert Lindley and George V - A big thank you to all you fine Poets.
I wade to you through peppermint streams
While thoughts of sugar plums dance in my head
And when on land I mark my way
With bright colored jelly beans of green and red
There are lollipop signs with delicious swirls
Atop red and white posts like candy canes
With delectable names like Chocolate Fudge Mews
Caramel Road and Honey Dew Lanes
Sweet Avenues and Streets - a mouth-watering choice
This yellow brick road looks so like Honey comb
Oh did you tell me to turn right or left?
Might take a bit longer to get to your home!
These bushes of delicious coconut cream kisses
And lolly golly bliss bombs ever so blue
Might tarry a bit while I sample these sweet treats
Don’t mind if I do - You won’t mind if I do?
Luscious flowers on that tree just like fairy floss
Oh my! Now this I cannot resist
Just another mouthful for along the way
Then lunch at 12 - you did insist
The ginger bread house that’s just up ahead
With a sweet fence surround like licorice twists
Its then that I see you waving to me
With a large box of chocolates - Oh what bliss!!
By The Glasser Sound Orchestra - Sugar Sugar
POTD 15th June 2017
I am trying to sleep here; can someone let the world know?
Somewhere the pressure cooker whistles,
Rises in the night air, the smell of pulao rice.
The peddler selling eggs on his final tour,
The ringing of his cycle bell and paddle distinctly heard,
Elsewhere a cat mews, finding a safe spot to rest,
Or mayhap from hunger, I shall know never,
Dogs bark at a ragged man pacing fast,
His sole hanging slippers chatter away against tar,
As he glances at the canines from the corner of his eye.
A weak twig falls off the peepal tree nearby,
On the asbestos, creating a cracking noise,
Unendearing to his ears, the toddler wails,
A rickshaw shifts gears, as I shift sides
The sound of acceleration arrives at my eardrums,
A pillow atop my ears I rest,
An attempt feeble in decibel-arrest,
I am trying to sleep here; can someone let the world know?
I sense the creator is perhaps
The conduit in this conspiracy,
A gentle wind blows,
A pair of unshut windows rattle,
A metal latch dangling beats out-of-rhythm,
The jamun trees rustle, sounding
Like sand falling on tin-sheet,
The sound of roaring cheers
From a cricket match on TV otherwhere,
Triggering the flow of my curse on technology,
At the apartment gate,
A bunch of teens giggle away,
To a cunning joke or a murder mystery,
I wonder in utter dismay.
A medley of noises, of all kinds and creed,
Can someone let the world know, I am desperately trying to sleep.
You chance upon her
in the far reaches of the backyard
a place you never go
and there she trembles a tiny tiger in a blurred world
secreted in shadows below blackthorn shrubs
faint mews draw you closer
the power of her vulnerability
fills your veins with a pulse rising
brimming you with a nectar needed
like a dry stream bed restored by remedy rains
how helpless she is with eyes just opened
her eyes like skylights —translucent
and filled with new wild blue innocence
neglected yet beautiful
you see the phenomenon of her will to live —
her outsized feistiness
belying such a petite package of need
with teeny needle claws and protests the wisp of a hiss
...and you recall when you felt small and voiceless
born a feral
her mother likely lost to speed-wheels of a car
or snap-jaws of coyotes whose throats float howls
above black tree lines with autumn mist and moon
it will never be known for sure
and you wonder if she wonders
if the sweet-milk-purrs with soft belly fur
will ever return to snuggle her
she’s been cold and alone for far too long
so you gather her in the hug of your hands
curl your chest around her littleness
a shield formed against her loneness
—a long-ago-child abandoned a silent
child lost amid foster care noise is heard—
and you decide not to let Nature take its course
instead you sit with her swaddle her love her
nourish her with eye dropper milk—
embers linger in brick-warm-hearth
as you heal the orphan within
Poetry will not keep you warm
Not like a cat nestled between legs
But, it hunts down manic thoughts
Gnashes the static till the mind gives
Chases a thought till claws are bloody
Keeps you drenched in sweat
Yes, she mews for attention
Till its cries grate every nerve
Till I feed it words & want
Poetry keeps me squirming
Caught in a net skimming a deluge
Waiting for words to be hauled
The big catch ever escaping
Keeps me checking the line
Insisting I jump into cold waters
Foolishly like Ahab chasing a tail
Sadness is my white whale
Mad with promises holey
Poetry is a leaky bucket
Catching the rain of words
Within depression's storm
Coming like a cat with a pail
Impossible and torrential
Ensnaring me for an hour
Keeps me back for seconds
Promising an easy catch
Cold and slippery
Abbott Cat
—————————————(Dedicated to our unique cat Gnash)***.
*…..*****….*****…..
Know that Abbott Cat
Had the stride
Of the pure…placing:
Each step forward
With the slightest lift
of the upper ankle
So to set down his
Paws — first the toes,
Then the heels
As ballet dancers do,
In a gait of grace and
Blessed dignity…
Like the passing by
Of an acolyte — we
May nod our heads
In respect and
recognition
of the passing
Cross.
Abbott held, so
It felt, some
Secret knowledge,
Some gems requiring
A very regal posture.
To carry the inner
Cache of
Secrets of heaven;
Some wisdom
His mews
Could not share?
Still, his noble
Carriage and his
mystery held psalms
Giving lyrics to his
Every motion, with
A prefacing instant
Of a weightless rise.
And, Abbott
Welcomed
An open lap
To curl round upon:
His black, furry back’s
Cape and vestment-
muffler tail,
To be stroked
By a gentle hand,
Without precepts…
Over and again,
Like the redeemer’s
Promises, a gracing
Causing Abbott Cat’s
Spirit a wistful smile,
Plus a coded, grateful
Mew…
———————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 9/2021
Thanks be to God
A cat sits on a chair
and hovers over me
as I lie in bed.
It’s December 31st
as a soft rain falls.
As I get up
I ask myself
if this is
an ending or beginning.
I’ve been back in town
full-time for five years
but embrace memories
of highways travelled
throughout the Midwest
when I worked
for road construction crews.
Now I’m left with my poems.
Bare limbs in the yard next door
wave and dance in the wind
beneath the cover of grey skies.
The cat brushes against me and mews
and I know it wants to be fed.
I take it downstairs
and fill a dish on the floor.
It eats in the kitchen while I call
my older cousin and we peer
into our younger lives.
When asked I said
if given the chance
I say
I’d live my life again.
Outside the window
rain has turned to snow
and the dormant yard
bears the change of weather.
Kindness - title and topic
(in free verse)
A small dog whimpers in the cold.
All he needs is some warmth –
the warmth of your heart,
a morsel of food, and a cuddle.
A little cat lonely by your porch,
gazes at you with sweet kitty eyes,
meowing and meowing for a dish of food.
Maybe she is lost and wanting a snuggle
from a person whom she has gone missing from!
We all feel miserable at times.
Maybe we have fallen on hard times.
Maybe we have simply had terrible day.
Sometimes all we need
are sympathetic words, a nice hot meal,
and the gentle touch of a loved one’s hand.
puppies and kitties
and the kiddie inside us all -
Sometimes we simply hunger
For kindness.
Kindness - title and topic
(Rewritten as a quatern)
Sometime kindness is all souls need.
Think of a puppy wandering.
Give him shelter; cuddle and feed
this pup! It takes no pondering.
Think of lost kitties at your door.
Sometimes kindness is all souls need.
With pitiful mews they implore
that with comfort you pay them heed.
Why are so many filled with greed?
Destitute souls wander on streets.
Sometimes kindness is all souls need -
some warmth, some food, a bed with sheets.
Reach out to someone who feels blue.
Each day we can do a good deed.
Sweet words alone might even do!
Sometimes kindness is all souls need.
What of this pregnant white cat?
Her dirty fur a smudge
Against the snow's clean canvas,
She mews at my door for milk.
A stranger to me, she appeared
Without express invitation.
And now, she lingers, like a cold.
This cat is an embarrassment.
Like friends whom I feed
Because I lack strength
To turn them away.
Joyous Day At The Train Station
A most absurd thing happened while I made my way
to meet my morning train one sunny, summer day.
While walking on the path I saw the engineer
I see most every day when traveling, but near
him was a box of sorts all covered with a sheet.
He quickly called to me and said, "please come to meet
this stray, a golden-orange tabby cat I caught
along the tracks. A little irritable and fraught
but genial, and he emits the sweetest mews.
His fur is smooth and excellent; bright eyes diffuse
green glows of iris; he's a beauty with no home."
I bent and peered inside, he looked so all alone,
but kindly met my eyes with such a generous
meow and then moved over close to where I was.
Not minding one iota when I picked him up,
he fit so sweetly in my arms which I did cup
and did appreciate my holding him so near.
He tucked his head beneath my chin, and it was clear
in order to make him my own, there was a kink...
a costly act...skip work today. Then, in a wink,
I called my boss, and 'knock on wood', he said okay.
An unplanned meeting with my new-found pet this day
gave me a special joy, and with a hug sincere,
"an admirable kindness," said the engineer.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Make A Poem
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Judged: 07/12/2016
Couplet Form using Iambic Hexameter: 12 syllables and 6 feet per line
21 Required Words to Include in Poem:
Absurd, appreciate, admirable, cat, caught, costly, emits,
engineer, excellent golden, generous, genial, iris, iota,
irritable, kindly, knock, kink, orange, over, order
My poem took about 3 hours to
compose between two writing sessions:
evening of July 2 and morning of July 3.
A herald announced the joyous news that a king was to visit my hometown!
Jerusalem was abuzz anticipating seeing a royal king wearing a regal crown!
I could visualize his majesty arriving on a prancing Arabian steed,
Or being borne upon a lavishly bespangled camel of exceptional breed!
I'd also heard that kings were borne in magnificent coaches gilt with gold,
And that with great pomp and blare of trumpets their procession was foretold!
This I wanted to see so I joined the milling throng and got a curbside seat!
Thousands of jubilant celebrants lined both sides of the city's dusty street!
"Here He comes!" shouted the mob! "Hosanna In the Highest!", they cried!
I strained my neck to see a real king in purple robes, the nation's pride!
The exultant crowd spread their cloaks and waved palm fronds along the mews,
Shouting, "Hosanna To Christ The King! The promised Messiah of Good News!"
This king, this King of Kings, rode a lowly donkey as His means of transportation!
I was told that a prophet Zecharia said He'd ride one for His triumphal celebration!
As He passed by I fell to my knees! He looked directly AT ME!, smiled and waved!
From that moment I became His disciple - straight paths for me He hath paved!
The man next to me said this man, this King, was born in a stable cave,
And that of His power to heal the ailing, blind and lame He freely gave!
Unlike earthly kings, He even promised eternal life for a sinner like me!
From this day forward I'll forever follow that good man from Galilee!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
She's black with white spots.
She curls up on my chest when I lay down.
Mews and stretches
just to curl up again.
I love her so much...
She gives me a new sense of joy.
A new reason to continue.
My baby....
Merlin the cranky cat
sat around getting fat.
Wanting to be heard
he mewed and purred.
He yowled and howled
and even growled
all with the same result.
He felt it quite the insult.
He snarled and hissed
What had he missed?
He tried a mewl
and lost his cool.
Short of a caterwaul
what should he call?
A tiny squeak perhaps?
Were they taking naps?
Chirrups and chirps
brought no alerts.
His tail-raising trills
brought no thrills.
He wanted dinner now.
He raised a loud MEOW!
Using the magic word
he finally was heard!
Merlin became the Magic Cat
in his tuxedo and top hat.
The other cats took their cue.
“Meow” meant “Please and thank you!”
The moral is if dinner you choose,
learn to mind your Ps and Mews!
Mother Nature...Oh! Blue water,
Oh! Soft Globe...
I’m your slave; I’m your probe,
I’m for you... and for what you hold,
I’m a nature addict, this what I was told,
I like your fresh air...I like your breeze,
I like your flowery plants,
I like your shading trees,
I like all your little creatures....
Squirrels, wild rabbits, birds and bees,
I like the odours of your virgin prairies and farms,
I like the magical beauty of your countryside that charms,
Hunters, adventurers and lovers more...
Vagabonds and even fugitives who come for,
Seeking shelters to escape and hide,
Horses-lovers and jockeys who ride,
I like your singing rivers that show and lean,
I like your floating swans going in twin [s],
I like the tiny alleyways that lead and mean,
Paths, short cuts, mews...all in green,
I like your braying donkeys and the barking dog,
I like the whistling winds and your splashy bog,
I like your orphan turtles and the leaping frog,
I like your frosty mornings and your ghostly fog,
I like your stylish gardens...I like your vogue,
I like everything in you, mother-nature,
But I don't deserve you...
Since I’m destroying you,
And myself [...] I’m a rogue!!
My Sullivano photographed bad
He was a simian ghost so sad
He was dispirited
Now he posed for an ad
" Uncle Sully goes to nuptial bed"
Meenie stands erect in the mews
This morning she has heard a news
Sully has gone to hell
To collect a bombshell
Safe for a ghost? she has to muse
My pet ghost Sullivan was quite beyond the pale
He smoked my tobacco pipe and sipped my ale
He danced before my wife
Who was a squid in real life
She Kicked his butt and he started chasing her tail
Sully kissed Meenie on the spur of the moment
She was nursing her ass a cute boil to foment
Love really ached
The cute boil was baked
Meenie screeched like a ***** Sully made no comment
Cubism or impressionism
Wife Laura looked through her prism
She saw the open sea
Made her eternal plea
God give me back my squidism
Sullivan/Sully/ Sullivano= my pet ghost
Meenie= my female tabby cat
Laura= my wife a squid
THE MEWS OF MADEMOISELLE L'Vampyre
Your lady of the night, if you'd so choose,
counts on the dark within her Left Bank mews
to hide her as she watches from the dark;
she picks the flesh where she will leave her mark
then sinks her teeth to blood her soul can use.
She wonders if forever's ever done
and how it feels to walk out in the sun,
though all her memories have died away,
she still recalls one boy she'd have today
except he'd taken her in just his fun.
With all her heart, she loved, and loved him well
more than mere letters of it ever tell
but she has burned each one she ever penned
and cast the ashes to the midnight wind;
before she layed his body straight to hell.
And for her deed--the cutting of her knife
and drinking of his blood to end his strife,
her fate came to be one of the undead
the hated ones whom all of man should dread
and with such beauty, but no claim to life.
The feature of his face she soon forgot
but not the plight of love, the arrow shot
straight to the heart and still she knows its pain
and longs to touch his mouth one time again;
she lives and breathes to die--but dies she not!
Now you could have her love, if you should please
and for it she has brought kings to their knees!
But if it's more than love she wants this night
you'd best pass down the Seine onto the Right;
and not down on the Left where no one sees.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet