Best Yowl Poems


Premium Member Lunch Box

LUNCH BOX

The sandwich was probably only two days old
School had let out for Christmas vacation on the 23rd
And now    on Christmas Eve    Sam had found it -        
     lunchbox and all -  in an alley behind Clarke’s Super
The kid had taken a couple of bites of the apple – now
     gone brown- but left the roast beef sandwich whole
“Too damn much mayo!” Sam frowned
“But boy am I hungry!”

Licorice    the cat – so named by the neighborhood kids –
     was hungry too    and let Sam know it with his most
     plaintiff cry
Sam was street-wise    an old cardboard box dweller who
     had tenanted many boxes   many alleys    in his time
Yet    this was no “Hello puss    whose puss are you?”
     animal summons for attention
The yowl had a bone-rattle desperation Sam hadn’t heard
     before

Licorice blended with the night
But stood out even against the gloom
She was pressed against an empty oil barrel    back arched
     on the tips of her paws    so almost skeletal
Sam couldn’t help but sigh
It was Christmas Eve    and despite the location – a forlorn
     back alley – a string of lights (from somewhere) were
     blinking
On
Off
On
Off
On
Off
On
The red-green-gold shown against Licorice’s satin fur
Charmed the (already charmed) night
Charmed Sam the Box Man
“Well I’ll be damned!” he gulped
Then threw half the sandwich to the starving kitty
“Merry Christmas old beggar.” Sam smiled

The Cat On the Fence

There once was a cat who hadn't much sense.
He liked to sit, every night, on a neighborhood fence
And sing, at the top of his not so sweet voice,
A medley of cat songs of his personal choice.
                               
He'd been told many times, in no uncertain way,
That he'd be wise to sleep nights, and prowl in the day.
Because near the fence that he seemed to like best,
Lived a hard-working man who needed his rest.
                               
So, late one night, in the light of the moon,
He climbed onto the fence and started to croon.
The sudden appearance of that unearthly sound
Aroused, from its sleep, the neighborhood hound.
                               
With the yowl of the cat, and the yap of the hound,
The midnight was filled with the maddening sound.
From the house near the fence, you might understand,
Came a groan from the neighborhood hard-working man.
                               
The poor, distraught man jumped out of his bed!
He ran to the window and stuck out his head.
He fumbled with this, and grappled with that,
Just anything handy to throw at the cat.
                               
He threw both of his shoes, some books and a broom,
And everything else he could find in the room.
The symphony ended abruptly that night
And suddenly all was peaceful and quiet.
                               
Next morning the cat limped home to his place,
And, believe it or not, he had a frown on his face.
Now, this might sound funny, but I assure you it's true,
Where everyone knows one should wear a hat--
--the cat was wearing a shoe.

Jan Allison

Jan Allison



Jan Allison gave me a grinning big chuckle
Only wish she met my quirky Uncle Buckle
She might have to fend off
Then she may have to cough
A mighty big yowl to scare a honey suckle



Written: 2/19/15
Theresa Marie W-C
© Theresa Cw  Create an image from this poem.


Shadows

Shadows

24/08/2016
11:12

In unexperienced infancy
Mistakes seemly false, intending true
Adult features with grown up looks
To show many secrets which afterwards you come to know
And make fool in all sort of ways
You are a shadow of yourself

Many years on, the thoughts so tinctured with no reason
And craftiness exist in great perception
Standing up tall yet craddled in low esteem
Premonitions banging out loud, no ears to listen
Your inseparable companion whoose manifestation you ignorantly take
A pestiferous self you will later know
a shadow of yourself

Speakers lament the you in you is you
We get the code but some make no atone
A popular saying that everyone is unique and special
I doubt, for some are but specialist in the shadow of themselves

Permit me to yowl at the single ladies
Having geniue apathy for whom they really are
Taking peeks at their foggy look
Social media tinted with their glamorous artifacts
Seductively dressed to earn fb likes
Little flesh will turn them on, their fetish say
They forget you are addressed the way you dress
Having no respect for womanhood
Solace sister in practice
You are but a shadow of yourself

She's such a beauty to behold
Not so sure if it's love or lust
You sugar coated mouth presenting levels you don't worth
Even though you fake all just to impress her
The real you is a cloud of fine particle that can't be hidden

A life full of pride is a life of shadow
A mouth filled with lies sees no reality but shadows
The more we grow, the more we know
After a time of been just a shadow
We are now strong to walk alone for
We are not created a shadow

#honesty #sincerity #direction #integrity
are what makes you a YOU

Be real, for anyone aside You is already taken!

Kehinde Oluwaseun

Premium Member The Gibbon and Tiger Cubs

A peaceful dawn in a verdant rainforest 
Stretching and lowering their head submissively
Two tiger cubs in a fun frolic play and kittens yowl
Actively under trees, limbs, and leaf brushes passivity
Hugs, scratches, bites, and tiger growls 

Along comes a black heart face gibbon 
Swinging from branch to branch in high-speed
No tail, arms as long as his body like ribbons
Teasing he joins in “You can’t catch me!  Yes indeed!”
 
Swinging from branch to branch in high- speed
Reaching for the cubs as fast as he could
He pulls their ears and pulls their tail to take heed
Can't seem to get enough of play since he began

The cubs jump and stretch and extended their claws
With all their efforts falling back to the ground with no avail 
They suck and draw breath playing hide-seek to get their jaws
on the gibbon. From behind, the gibbon stood on the ground
and pulled their tails 

They turned and chased as fast as they could and failed
Worn out conveying a lack of interest they walked away 

Swinging from branch to branch in high-speed he stopped and inhaled,
“Where are you going? He wailed.
 I’m not done playing? 
Come back to play another day. “


3/13/2020
9/9/2016 added top line
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

The Unpredictable

~The Unpredictable~


Being judged changed her attitude 
voluntarily her Communicating 
will grow beyond, she will not feel trapped 
 or suffer her velocity will willfully create wrath 
among those who had judged her. 
                             
Ready to show the whole world her shifting 
to shipshape  will let him yowl and hear 
no echo.

She will make him feel she is superior 
 will dismiss her liaison with this family 
will afford to brag about her brain its beauty 
will feel attractive authentic her serenity 
will serve to seek a security that will vanquish 
who poured his venom over her.
                                                     
The inner woman she knew which had lived 
with a past suddenly became a stranger 
changed to become overwhelmed with happiness 
a rich soul.

She has been single skeptic since fifteen 
years her decision will overcome her shyness 
send a signal towards a special individual 
who might cast his spellbound over 
carry her as far away towards
A spiritual sphere.
                          
Her appetite will become apparent to arouse
that aristocrat approve admire her personality 
cruise towards a bright future. 

A sensational life will begin abruptly, ignoring the abuse,
Welcoming freedom that will prevail towards her 
adventurous encounter.
                            
One of the biggest moments of her life when she would find 
someone who still believes in love believes in the same
Goals and aspirations. 

Then her adoration towards him will exude beyond a birth 
 she will amaze her companion with an angelic appearance 
different allure. 

She hadn't finished the sentence when she heard 
the door creak it was him her first love 
when younger in age.
 
The view enlivened her imagination remembering how
Yesterday he found her and asked if she was free 
that happening for a reason of us meeting at the right time 
 right place will get us together create a beautiful home 
for the near future that was his message.

They stayed in love since the creaking of that door.
Never did she travel backwards when escaped 
her long past history of abuse being judged 
over the years by her husband nightmares. 
 
Therese Bacha
 17 November 2013


Premium Member President Abraham Lincoln

Lately, I have been a-thinkin',
About President Abraham Lincoln,
And about the witty sayings he told,
Quotes for the ages that shall ne'er grow old!

Some I've slightly paraphrased,
And others I've left unscathed.
"No matter how much cats yowl and fight,
There always seem to be plenty of kittens alright!"

"If this is coffee, please bring me some tea,
But if this is tea, bring me some coffee, I plea!"
"I like to see a man preach as if he's fighting bees,
Bringing wayward miscreants to their knees!"

"If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?
I think not when all is said and done!"
"Marriage is neither heaven or hell, 'tis said;
'Tis more akin to purgatory instead!"

"General McClellan, if you are not using the army now,
I would like to borrow it if you would please allow!"
"I can make more army generals, you see,
But horses cost money and that is of concern to me!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved

Premium Member Urban Morning Sound

hear others out there, just beyond my wall-wrapped sharing space
  they break on through, sneaking inside my head
  far above, front-nosed pilots point high-flying seated people tubes
  passengers squeezed in tight, some feeling dread

  as jet engines cloud-buffet, amplifying reverberations
  chimney-chambers funnelling their muffled sound
  momentary fear spills downward into the peaceful living-room
  then gone, soon forgotten, on journeys bound

  clank and clang, lift-arm lorries crawling slowly by the gateway
  sin bins scooped, coloured cravings half-consumed
  cascades of clinking glass crescendo, bottle-bank vomiting noise
  rapid cadence, ambient drone resumed

  programmed heat, timed with boiler clicks, powering-up, igniting
  cold metal creaks around expanding joints
  curtains swish, blinds roll open, bleary blinking, homely morning eyes
  aural sequencing as the day appoints

  distant yowl of hooter horn, duly departing commuter train
  car doors slam, abrupt jarring intrusion
  gauntlet-running mothers compete with pavement-blocking pupils
  fumes linger, safety scarring delusion

  radio din, depressing electro-magnetic compression
  shovelled earth beside the thin blaring-out
  men again dig doggedly, patching patches for the umpteenth time
  careless strike, gushing hiss of waterspout

  road tyres clip, manholes rattle, drum the brief mid-morning lullaby
  rise and fall, the doppler siren speeding
  two-wheeled tiny engine buzz, irritating as it nears the ears
  loudspeaker hails, vies for votes its pleading

  post person presents the parcels, delivering rat-a-tat-tat
  cats scurry as scratching dogs lunge and bark
  then sudden bang, spread-eagled pigeon, wingspan on window-pane
  stunned, fluttering, hoping to reach the park
© Ian Love  Create an image from this poem.

Daily Thoughts of a Broken Heart

Awkward moments fill the air; 
they trouble me when I sleep.

Behold the wonders of the great, 
killers and murderers of all kind.

Catch them we will the officer says, 
but forget them we will and go on.

Dying are all the people around you, 
sooner or later it will be your turn.

Enthusiasm, enthusiasm, oh that’s all so great, 
blood and violence tastes so sweet.

Fetch the demon in your dreams, 
or forever he will haunt you.

Glitter and fame, they are all that, 
they’ll pay with their life to witness.

Hate and misery powerfully rule, 
the people of this town.

Insomnia will keep you awake, 
yes; your past will haunt you.

Janitors of the rich and famous, 
get a little tap on the back.

Killing love all around the world, 
leaders now feel safe.

Let me lie here hopeless, 
I’ve lost all energy to fight.

Martyrs of our time are heroes, 
but count them on my fingers I can.

Night and day shiver cold, 
the sun has run away.

Oceans and seas have dried up, 
but our tears will replace.
Power sought by the entire world, 
the same thing that will destroy them.

Questions raised that have no answer, 
how sweet is confusion…

Rest my friend, it will be better soon, 
as soon as we are all dead.

Sanity has forever disappeared, 
along with thinking minds.

Tragedy of all kinds; 
the deaths and betrayals.

Undo all your mistakes?
Now it is too late.

Venomous poison in our drinks, 
to brainwash our innocence.

Warriors die for the wrong causes; 
it is all but a silly waste.


Xenophobia of all races, 
we will kill, kill, and kill.

Yowl out your sorrow, 
it is all you can do.

Zigzag thoughts run through my head, 
as wars come and go.

Fall Fright Footle

Midnight
Bat flight

Crows caw
Ghouls gnaw

Mists swirl
Leaves whirl

Wolves howl
Cats yowl

Ghost moans
Chilled bones 

Dark halls
Skin crawls

Foul breath
Taste death

Fright, fear
They're here!



For Donna Golden's Footle Fright contest

Premium Member Animal Antics

Stretching and lowering their head submissively
Two tiger cubs in a fun frolic play and kittens yowl
Actively under trees, limbs, and leaf brushes passivity
Hugs, scratches, bites, and tiger growls 

Along comes a black heart face gibbon 
Swinging from branch to branch in high-speed
 No tail, arms as long as his body like ribbons
Teasing he joins in “You can’t catch me!  Yes indeed!”
 
Swinging from branch to branch in high- speed
Reaching for the cubs as fast as he could
He pulls their ears and pulls their tail to take heed
Can't seem to get enough of play since he began

The cubs jump and stretch and extended their claws
With all their efforts falling back to the ground with no avail 
They suck and draw breath playing hide-seek to get their jaws
on the gibbon. From behind, the gibbon stood on the ground and pulled their tails 

They turned and chased as fast as they could and failed
Worn out conveying a lack of interest they walked away 

Swinging from branch to branch in high-speed he stopped and inhaled
“Where are you going?he wailed.I’m not done playing? Come back to play another day. “


9/9/2016 

Animal Antics - Poetry Contest 
  
 Sponsored by: Shadow Hamilton
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Heroin

He wraps it around her arm
In need for some repairs
Tighter and tighter
She likes it , like this
Old woman ,a little sick
Needing her medication

Mummy
Mummy
(yells the little boy)

Silence, child
Mummy is broken down
(in her silent voice)

Give me some ice
Stand by my side
And open your eyes
(in a roar)

Walk by my side
Cure my poison
(in her yowl voice)

As , she descends from this world
Drops to the floor
(bang , boom)
(bang , boom)

Poor little soul
Little boy so scared
Heart so sorrowful
As , he speaks

Mummy , mummy
Wake , wake
Mummy , mummy
Wake
Wake-up
Give me back my ice
Give me back my happy dust


No more
Tighter and tighter 
Mummy
Mummy
Why like this
Without a chance to reminisce
Reminisce my thoughts threw your sickness

Mummy come and listen,  to my screams
For this ice has me, so confuse on life
Confuse about you
This sickness, I see in your eyes everyday
As, I watch you fall on our kitchen floor
Mummy wake
Wake mummy, wake
For I love you , I do

Premium Member Fun At the Zoo

Antisocial anacondas don't associate in numbers;
Bears and beavers don't become the best of friends.
Civet cats catch rats, so is it any wonder
On doleful dingoes dire dilemmas do descend?
Effete elephants eschew jumping, it's ungraceful;
"Frenching" frogs will never fetch nor wart nor prince.
Beware lest grim gaboons give you a face full;
Hyena's haunting laugh makes haughty hippos wince.
Iguanas ignorantly ignore sunscreen on their eyelids;
Jaguars judiciously adjure a jungle nook.
Kangaroos are kind of cute when they have cute kids;
In Lima llamas leap and lastly look.
Mountain lions may masquerade as pumas;
Nimble narwhal's noble spear's his joy and pride.
Opossums opt not to oppose those "play dead" rumors;
Prosaic penguins probably take leglessness in stride.
Quails quibble querulously in quorums;
Raccoons rinse their rations when they eat.
A snail can wreak some slimy harum-scarum;
Tarantulas tout tasty toads as treats.
Urutus usually undulate in jungles;
Vultures vainly vote for haute cuisine.
A wildebeest's a waggish work somebody bungled;
Xeric xenops don't exactly tan, they just stay green.
Yenta yaks may yell and yowl when they feel chatty;
Zany zebra's zoned in black, or white, if you prefer.
I pray this piece will play and not seem "catty",
SPCA's raucous ridicule I'd rather not incur,
For these bits of critterary trivia, A to Z,
Are things I never learned from Marlin Perkins*, R.I.P.

*For those of you, dear readers, who may not know, or who may not remember, Marlin Perkins was the host of the long-running NBC nature series, "Wild Kingdom", which aired on Sunday nights from 1963-1971.

Premium Member Oh They Are Not So Unassuming

I went out one night;
folks say they don’t bite,
but grabbing the banister,
I slapped my hand upon one.
No, the experience was not fun
for the mantis nor me,
this painful whelp I cannot relieve!

My pet Gekko Little Elk,
in his tank on the shelf,
got his own terrible fright one night.
with a mantis he tangled,
and ended up mangled;
and his tail didn’t grow back right.

My cat jack chasing a mouse;
I’d prefer he’d chase grouse,
stuck his nose in hole in the ground.
Imagine my scowl,
when he let out a yowl,
mantis claws converted nose to ground-round.

Be a Maker, Not a Taker

Some shout no to corporate welfare
And spit on those who say otherwise.
Tax loopholes seem unfair,
To those who minimize
Their day-to-day and scrutinize
The monthly budget.
The craftsmen yowl this advice,
Be a Maker, Not a Taker.

An artisan lists out what's true and fair;
A list of various jobs and supplies.
To complete his family's share
Of fruited endeavors reprise.
The labor like clockwork unifies
The sons and daughters sextet.
The craftsmen sing a fanfare to canonize,
Be a Maker, Not a Taker.

The effort rolls on in splendor
Fulfilling and occupying their lives.
Each embraces the craft and takes care
To improve with each enterprise.
They learn new ways to devise,
A trio rhythm to the minuet.
Until their breath greets sunset,
Be a Maker, Not a Taker.

Years hence others apprise
The fruits of their labors sweat.
Finished works inspire others to reprise,
Be a Maker, Not a Taker.

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