Long Kittenish Poems
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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
there is a gravity to you
whenever crossing the room
it is an existence that bends light
into an aura capturing my every breath
a plasma that penetrates every atom within
with memories of long ago
when you first walked into my life
from across the room
as you drew near me
my heart counted every step forward
lost in erratic rhythms as they lifted
and returned to Earth
in that face a beauty
causing a full moon to glance
and pause in envy
lips possessing a kittenish smile
driven like a bee to pollen
a promise of being crushed by roses
born from Athenia's brood
and in your eyes a dominion
from which i would be forever held
in John Donne's Ecstasy
these passing years
i still tug on the pigtails
to remind the playground
how much i adore you
just an average man
who stumbled into the arms
of the above average
and careened into eternity
now there will be those of you
quickly to point out
surely there are far too many flowers
packed lovingly in this bouquet
i said average, not stoopid
you take the bolt of cloth down
measure three to four-times
twice and cut is for mechanical thinkers
love has never been a well-oiled machine
a bit more for unexpected contingencies
roll the bolt of cloth more than a tad
in life, one never knows
the lady may have just discovered
she now adores puffed sleeves
i said average, not stoopid
and the lesson i learned from Mr. Darcy
when you open your mouth
let the brain stay idle in speech
and let your heart sing
to the soul, she has in her eyes
therein the permission you seek nests
only the heart can free those wings
and there are never too many flowers
in a bouquet, or a tad more of cloth
be prepared the scouts' teaching
fashion with women are like the seasons
guaranteed to change
did not John Donne ask his love
not to stare into the sun
lest she blinds it
above average, also, not stoopid
OKC 2/14/22
“Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love .” William Shakespeare, Hamlet
"But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity."
Sonnet 14 If Thou Must Love Me
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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
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.
KITTENISH
I am knitting mitten
My pretty Kitty kitten
turning over on lichen,-
suddenly rushed to kitchen
in cheerful frolic mood
not trying to touch food,
nature, polite, good,-
even me acting rude.
While offered milk
loves to sip and licks,
relishes to drink, -
and happily winks.
On sofa I am sitting
engaged on knitting
foe perfect fitting,-
playful kitten biting
woollen ball, hitting with poll
to slip rapid, tumble and roll
unwinding the running scroll,-
slowly unfolding, till the whole
gradually diminished,
ultimately vanished.
Kitten got astonished:
Playing fenile kittenish.
03/12/23
Re-edited on 03/ 15 /23
Beloved Pets
Third Place
Contest by BJ Legros Kelly
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
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.
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
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.
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.