Long Kibbles Poems

Long Kibbles Poems. Below are the most popular long Kibbles by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kibbles poems by poem length and keyword.


The Reindeer Strike

ALL OF                                                   SANTAS
            REINDEER                    WENT           ON               STRIKE
      NEEDING           MORE                            THAN                JUST HAY
                  & KIBBLES,                                          NO MATTER                    
                               IF THEY BE BUCK OR DOE THEY CAN
 not fly                                    too far on Just                                nibbles.
   Rudolph  of course        is the spokesdeer, he so             much, wants to
       right this disgrace,    with special concessions      for himself since 
             he gets the most snow in his face! Rudolph shouted, "Who is 
                                with me now?"  Even backup deer,    
                               Jane and Matt excitedly raised, their 
                             hooves having to get on their backs for 
                              that! Charles, the deer, that cleans up 
                                the joint raised three, for he's mis-
                                   sing a hoof. Taking the place of
                                     Donner one night, He slipped
                                          and fell off a high roof!
                                           Santa admitted it was 
                                             about time. He said, 
                                            "I'm doubling kibbles
                                              and hay!" they all
                                                  clapped their
                                                    hooves in
                                                                                                                 Delight, for the  reindeer it was a great day! Santa said, "If you want    overtime, you can work in my garden for dough", One deer in the back  asked, " Doing What?"        Well, of course he said, "HOE, HOE, HOE!"
© Pat Adams  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Concrete


Premium Member A Rainy Day

By ears and whiskers, ain't no more
A sadder thing that being in the dog house,
On a rainy day.
Make no bones about it, when momma's
Mad I'm hanging my head low.
Jo dirt has nothing on how bad this hound feels,
But honestly instincts roller, over road wisdom's,
Howling, but I'd mean it dearest sweet mommy.
With woofs and kisses can I  make it all better,
It's lonely on this side of the doorway.
With you out there and me in here.
Kibbles my bits I'd give up my
 Monthly allotment,
Of bacon bits for a true heart felt,
That a good boy one more time. 
If I could I'd bring you a beer,
Just to see that frown disappear.
Perking these two ears up to here,
Your laughter ring out at bed time.
Or a soft whispers friendly voice, speaking
Good night dear old friend.
All four paws down I won't do it again,
Cross this canine's fury little heart.
But the rain keeps falling,
As outside the sunshine is calling,
Our names to be together,
There's no tears like these rainy days.
So I'll sit patiently,
For the sun to rise again in your heart,
When ever that maybe,
Because simply put I'm loyalties pup,
Just waiting for you to bring me 
On the right side of 
The door once more.
To sit beside thee again.
A companion and dearest friend,
Always letting the sun to shine down
On us forever more.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Special Day

A SPECIAL DAY

I must tell what I witnessed one cold winter day
All the neighborhood strays came forth, but not 
      to foray

They gathered front the most central house on    
      the street
A striped tiger cat stood on a limb, licking his   
      feet

Fat Princess Persian came out on her porch, so 
      proud
Said, “What is this about, Martin,” said it quite 
      loud

Martin L. Kitty rose up, with dignity, looked all
      around
The huge entourage settled, made not a sound

I have a dream,” said Martin Luther Kitty,
“ that all strays get good treatment, their fair
      share of pity,

That the underhouse dwellings no longer be 
      spaces of starving birth, starving death
But the neighborhood populace share a small
      portion of wealth

If you can’t take us in, then a bowl of kibbles on
      the stoop will do”
Fat Persian Princess answered with a twitch, an
      uppity “Meee-ewww”

Enough said, the whiskered hoard rose up, 
      returned silently to their homes,
Under house, under porch, under deck – the
      catacombs

Premium Member They Just Don'T Care

Call it as it is!
Not mistaken.
Not uninformed –  
They just don't care! 
Death in record numbers
at our Southern Border;
Death in the streets
of large cities from 
Fentanyl...They just
don't care! Mask-less
getting her hair done;
at the seaside with
his obedient dog, steak
for him and Kibbles
for the population. She
parties in Florida, 
while the streets of New
York are rapidly becoming
an uninhabitable sewer – 
Even pigeons, rats and 
roaches objecting to
piles of feces on sidewalks,
along curbs, obstructing
their normal foraging, healthier
diets of tossed pizza, bagels 
and imported lox – They just don't
care! Using God and religion
as a prop, to control the naive
masses, while they get richer,
sitting ever higher on their
imagined Royal Asses. Already
card-caring Mammon's. They 
just don't care! Obsessed
with Pursuit-of-power – 
badly in need of a soul-cleansing
shower – the Devil Delighted,
fiery-plans for each selfish-hide -- 
advance reservations on a
Subterranean Ride –
© Joe Dimino  Create an image from this poem.

My Personal Tower of Scrabble

 Tennyson's form from The Lady of Shalott 

I sing my fame ignoring grace
as I meet vict’ry face to face.
Defying prudence to efface
the pride of getting letters placed.
My personal Tower of Babble,
a chance to boast, I’m just like you
and so we brag, like winners do.
To grace all rivals say adieu
in this bracing game called Scrabble.

Safe in my tray, letters espouse
myriad words, and though I grouse
that sacred “Q” is safer housed
within the pocket of my blouse -
my personal Tower of Babble.
So when the needed “U” appears
I lean down to adjust my fears,
spouse has no clue of my arrears
in this rousing game called Scrabble.

The triple word space opens up
Rising to retrieve my prize, yup
“Z” lies sequestered in a cup
filled new with kibbles for our pup -
my personal Tower of Babble.
Planning ahead, my vile secret
planting tiles in careful sequence.
Hiccups to my ruse - infrequent
in this whupping game called Scrabble.

for Isaiah Zerbst's contest, The Lady of Shalott.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Catherine Clementine Clogg

Hello there my little friendlies
I'm Archibald Denton Frog
I'm here to tell you the story
Of Catherine Clemetine Clogg!

Clemmie as she's always been known
To a bunch of her closest friends
Has a wonderful talent for juggling
While sitting on her bottom end!

That may not sound so astonishing
But imagine the things she juggles
Kangaroos and a big mouth bass
And soap that causes big bubbles!

But awkward things like soccer balls
Or a pair of Grandpa's false teeth
A ten pound bag of Kibbles 'n Bits
Can certainly cause Clemmie some grief!

Let's give this lady a big hurrah
As she entertains all the wee kiddles
Keeps on juggling for many long hours
Till she finally needs to go piddle!

Oh my goodness did I say piddle?
What a naughty word I just uttered
That bar of soap is now in my mouth
Making me choke and sputter!

Archibald Denton Frog signing off
With a moral right at the end
Enjoy the talents of dear Clementine
But never use bad words that offend!

© Jack Ellison 2012
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member The Rat and the Penthouse Cat

Family moved from cities grace,
to a quaint country home.
Along he went, the penthouse cat 
always did carpet roam.

A place unlike apartment life,
what was a cat to do?
New sights and smells, walk in the grass,
bright sun and sky so blue.

Kitchen bound for a midnight snack,
kibbles and bits in mind.
What shock, another there to feast
he didn't expect to find.

“And who do you happen to be?”
questioned the penthouse cat.
Giving a glare, the kitchen guest
did freeze right where he sat.

“Oh, I'm just a little house mouse,
innocent as can be.
I'm just a friendly passerby,
nothing to fear from me.”

“I'll never scare your family,
so quiet are my paws.”
The penthouse cat jumped on the pest,
held tight in his sharp claws.

“Oh please kind cat I'll leave this house,
if you'll just set me free.”
“I'm no fool, you're a nasty rat,
I watch lots of TV.”


Robert Gene Stoner Jr
6/21/16 ©
Form: Rhyme

Doggie Dog World

This one goes to the one I love

WHY?  Don’t you fetch, roll over, and play dead

WHO knows I might just give you a Doggie bone

WHEN I saw you last night, you were not alone

WHAT an ugly sight, of him at your home

WHERE our names you carved in stones

Seeing you with him must have fallen into your bag of trick.
Please do not call me on my phone
I wipe my paws off you
Sit, stay put, and leave me the hell alone
For you I have no more Doggie treats
Beg all you want, go Ho” yourself on another streets
The final thing is
A dog is a dog, I will be a dog.
A  b*tch, well you are a B*TCH !
Attack someone else’s kibbles on your leash
Since you cannot be a faithful or obedient tramp
Go give someone else your fleas 
Thanks for showing me this is a 
  DOGGIE DOG WORLD
You will no longer wear my tags.
With a collar, that labels you as my girl.

**Phil J.
© Phil Boy  Create an image from this poem.

Owme!

Lick lick lick, long lick, lick lick...
there she sits on my window sill,
neatening fur from her feet to her tail.
And here I spy my little cat's eye,
narrowing my focus on her.
I hear the purr.ing....as she sits
sunny in the sill.  

I think to myself... 
the other day when I write my rhyme,
upon my toe you came with chimes,
to break my scribbling stride.  MEOW
in a loud voice you cried.  Give me
kibbles your whiskers pry between
my ankles.  Then I smiled.

And now upon this greatly fine hour,
revenge I'll have and you'll be sour,
as I make my strides to you.
I'm gonna pick you up and cuddle you too.
It'll cause a mess, I must confess
but I'm the 'mom' and you're too cute.

Plus I owe you... some love.
plus you OWME! too. ;) a new poem.

~and that's communication~
~in it's best form~
At my house anyway lol!!
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

The Loving Time

Excuse me now it's the Loving Time,
"Meows and purrs" while I write my rhymes.
Little nibble on my toe, just so I'll know, you're there.
Scratch on my ankle, hey! I know you care!
"Meeeooowwww" again by my foot, 
so I stopped to have a look....
And melted at how cute you are there!

So excuse me my friends...
In the middle of my pen, a little ball of fur cries.
Whiskers are tickling, her tail is switching
and her nibbles beg kibbles from my eyes.
I must stop and Love this precious,
little ball of fur with her purring message.

I'll return to you soon to complete my rhyme,
Just after I give my full attention
and now most certainly my mention,
of the duty I fulfill, when it's the Loving Time.



:) I'm in training...
http://13cattails.blogspot.com/
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

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