these kittens are getting squirrely and loud said mama cat
Papa was annoyed; he wanted to read his newspaper in peace
the kittens seemed kittenish to him, and that was that
mewing and whining during breakfast took away his ease
why don’t you kittens go play out in the wilds he said that day
his wife gave him a warning growl, but had nothing else to say
the kittens were astounded, they loved this idea from pappy
they jumped the table and headed for the woods, feeling happy
mama kitten gave papa the eye and a stern look or two
are you going with them? she asked, and he immediately knew
If he did not go with the kits, he would never hear the end of it
and if there is one thing he did not want it was a wife having a fit.
Two kitty cats, strode up an autumnal. red-leaved covered hill.
The day being cast in loveliness, they went to visit the old mill.
By then it was noon, so they fried delicious fish on a picnic grill.
Then, sauntered home, to snore like royalty, upon a heavenly, comfy, velvetty-covered, window sill!
9/18/2025
She had a kittenish personality; always ready to play.
Her sense of whimsy and hunky-dory attitude was contagious.
Her laugh would have brought happiness to the Netherworld.
He was smitten from the second they met. Wanted more.
Unfortunately, she was already taken and committed.
This did not mean he stopped noticing her.
She elucidated a room, illuminating it with joy.
Moments become wet steppingstone
over a stream of consciousness.
At breakfast, a TV delivers omens
with a perky disposition.
Buttering grilled bread, distracted by normality,
slipping through the well-greased gears
of a self-made reality,
then a singing hint of burnt toast
ripples through suddenly aware
nostril hair.
What should you do today -
walk the mood off
or pray brother pray?
Will the monstrous appear,
its likeness --- cute and kittenish,
though even now
new velvet satanic horns
are already budding.
Will the fuzz and fur turn quickly
to scabs and scales?
Sinister left-handed slaps of hysteria
swipe the sweat from wrinkled foreheads.
In a room bereft of natural illumination,
a light on an open laptop is blinking,
imagination types a nightmare
on the underside of its blank screen.
Brains unchecked by reason,
swivel inside their bony portholes,
they search this way and that
for a more feasible fantasy
before this amorphous apprehension
emerges fully clothed
as an all too familiar
mirror image.
On Hallows Eve Octobra always has a dance
Her feet are fancy in heels, to give a better prance
the rest of us sit around getting heavier yet
While she dances with her familiar, a kittenish pet
Her place is decorated with ghosts and stuff
She has gone all out for us, sure enough
We sit and watch Octobra dance until the food is gone
Then we leave too, way before daylight or dawn
You see, Octobra is not a voracious eater in the least
We get teensy plates of appetizers that would not fill a beast
I am a giant goblin, and my cousin frank is a t-rex-wannta-be
So we have to leave early to catch food too slow to flee
Some girls with the guys act like a kitten.
They know instinctively just what to do.
Soon enough, the guy will be quite smitten.
This method even now is tried and true.
The goddess known as Marilyn Monroe
knew well this kittenish alluring ploy.
Playboy bunnies know it like a pro.
Though naughty and flirtatious, they are coy.
It’s easier for women who are pretty,
but plain girls too can nab themselves a guy.
Use cosmetics. Then be like a kitty -
sweet, fun, and playful – giving them the eye.
Men might be dogs, but just remember that
the dog is always bound to chase the cat!
March 11, 2023
For Writing Challenge - 'K' Words - Poetry Contest, word #4
Sponsor: Constance La France
Her attitude is friendly, kittenish, personable, joyful.
She uplifts, nurtures, builds up.
She is the woman you call when you have a problem.
She listens without trying to solve it.
You end up solving it yourself, as you pour it into the phone.
Her attitude is pink, she knows the beauty of silence.
You can sit in her presence and soak up her goodness.
You do not have to speak. There is no pressure, no expectation.
She sends you light and love.
You feel spiritually uplifted in her presence.
Newborns are born daily, still magical, enthralling us
With their kittenish mewing sound
snuggling into our fat shoulders
Pies, cakes, and pastries are made
by bakers at four a.m.
Humming as they work,
anticipating the happy excitement
of people who want a fresh donut at six.
Two-year-olds are laughing full out,
Seven-year-olds are asking for their own unicorns.
What can be more hopeful than that?
What did you say Punk? I was horrified; my heart fell with a clunk.
It was the ultimate hoodiest craziest out-of-control king. Mafioso Cat.
He is usually the last one people see before they land in a black trunk.
I began apologizing almost immediately, because I know he is quite Phat.
He told his minions to bring me over, and two of them got on each side.
I knew I could not outrun them, and frankly, there was nowhere to hide.
I went with my head down, thinking I was going to be thrown in a ditch.
Mafioso Cat said “Why did you think we were talking to you, you little Twitch?”
I threw myself at him, begged for mercy, pledging him my allegiance for life.
He's probably never before seen this loyalty from an unknown house wife.
Mafioso Cat threw back his head and laughed until he was hiccupping now.
I was just kidding, Lady, he said with a dapper gentleman’s kittenish bow.
So when he got arrested and thrown in the slammer I brought him some fish.
He asked me to bring kibble, and I baked a shank into a casserole dish.
Now we share the same cell, my godfather, Mafioso Cat and me.
Happy to work in the kitchen when we are not in Cell number Three.
A~B~C
Astonishingly
Beautiful
Cornucopia
Dancing
Entrancing
Fairies
Graciously
Handsomely
Infinitely
Jubilant
Kittenish
Lively
Mood
Naughtily
Outrageously
Playing
Quaint
Rapturous
Simplistic
Tunes
Underneath
Velvet
Willows
Xylophones
Zinging…
Written 9th May 2020
Contest ABC
Sponsor Allright Poet
Contest Brian's Choice A
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
You ever heard love scream, you ever seen love dream, you ever heard love ask 4 more love or so it seemed, love can be a theme, so I’ve seen a human being unfaithfully loving another human being, how can 2 souls mate when falsehood is in between, can love words be mean, can love be an emotional demon resting in the heart of an emotional human being, for I’ve seen, 4 my eyesight 4 love is keen, I’ve seen love be kittenish, selfish-n-knavish, kinetic-n-unestablished, a b*tch of a myth that kissed love’s lips, I’ve heard love scream, I’ve seen love’s dreams, I’ve heard love ask 4 more love or so it seemed, 4 my eyesight 4 love is keen, love this emotion can be benevolent or mean, or so it seems.
4 what I’ve seen
4 my eyesight’s 4 love
Is keen
Screams -n- more screams
For more -n- more love when it
Dreams, 4 I’ve heard-n-seen
Or so it seems
What’s up Nakym
After working for most of forty years,
I’d surely paid my dues.
Retirement brought me time to play
and I need give no excuse.
I’d paid my taxes cheerfully
and tithed for the good Lord.
All my club dues were up to date.
No one could say a word
If I should indulge myself a bit
and live my life with ease.
With children grown and on their own
I had only self to please.
One day a small cat came to call.
I fell for his kittenish ways.
He seemed to be the perfect fit
when I had some lonely days.
What ever was I thinking?
My head must be filled with rocks.
I gave up my freedom, my just dues,
for a cat and his litter box.
For Paula’s contest “ How Due You Dew” I won # 2
Out a place, surely, a kitten in pants
hung out to dry for heaven’s sake,
men wander about like little ants
professin’ knowledge, make no mistake,
there’s a tale pussy footin’ in the wake.
As men lie, ‘tis their ears grow pointed,
and their teeth are sharpened to fangs.
Sure and begorrah, they’re not anointed
these foolish followers o’ evil gangs,
hooked they be, and so, they hang.
So, reel in yer tail divils, take off false skin
yer kittenish ways will get ye naught.
Pray to the laurd God for kinder kin
they’d that will lave ye as they aught
and would na lave ye hangin’ caught…
*Sure and begorrah/ sure and by God
**Irish Dialect
Poet: D. Guzzi 8/4/11
Tippy my kitty is now one year old,
And still really very bold
Always forever wanting me to play,
Each and every single day
He's been getting bigger than ever,
Along with being much more fatter
I hope he keeps his kittenish ways,
Right up until th end of of his days
Purring in perfect perfection.
Curled up in contended contentment
he lies - half asleep, half awake -
ears attuned to tin opening...
coiled, curled, like a spring ... prepared.
Once playful and kittenish
he has aged into feline maturity.
Moving with stealth and pouncing,
surprising his prey with pliable precision,
then proudly presenting the prone prize to me.
This cat has character -
a constant companion since 'kitten-hood'.
Turning from tabby tearaway to
majestic malkin, marvellous mouser...
ears twitching as he sleeps ....
rousing to rustles - reacting with ready reaction ...
poised for action, or soporific on sofa...
preening at intervals, then asleep again -
dreaming of midnight prowling,
tom cat howling, rat and mousing.
He is my therapy: stroking his purring form;
conversing, cat-calling, cuddling, cajoling
him to come home .... he is a comfort -
a faithful feline friend, now middle-aged -
like me - and both curled up in contented contentment.
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