Mewling Poems | Examples

Wild Birds Poetry Contest

He soars above the heat,
High above, sun’s right hand man,
Watching the mewling amateurs underneath.

His sight instills fear,
Though too high to steal a glance,
Where he navigates, his war cries they hear.

His vision recognises,
In a staggering second he dives,
Rejoining the chasm of sky and sea divided. 




Contest - Wild Birds Poetry Contest
Bird - Peregrine Falcon
Additional note*- I am not a premium member and therefore I am unable to use the poet’s notes to write all of this. Thank you.

Identity

IDENTITY

I just want to be who I am, or even to know
Living this modern life is like being in armour
True freedom, now merely a fading memory
Following the script like a long running drama
But perhaps something out of this might grow

Personality, misshaped by many laws and rules
So what then, does individuality mean anyway
There’s a chest of treasures locked up inside me
That in this age, may never see the light of day
In our millions we’re numb, and acting as fools

Can it even be safe to release the unknown beast
That prowls and explores this unexpecting world
It might be a cute little mewling thing that blinks
And if threatened, huddles like a flag that’s furled
But it still deserves it’s freedom at the very least

Yet maybe this is mere hesitancy and speculation
The first challenge I must face, is to know myself
To be embraced for what I am, or could become
In life’s mission to discover all that hidden wealth
And to have caused at least a minor perturbation

The Final Sleep

When the final sunset happens
when the moon no longer shines
when the castle moats are empty 
all anger will decline 

When the lunar sin
is counted
and death is in defeat
all our dragons will be slain
and laying at our feet

No harm be our incentive 
into the dark we creep
crying demons
rising from the deep
cats mewling
no more belonging
to the rose or tulip
they lay upon the heap
dead dreams

We forever more shall sleep

Foxhound Pup - Nursery Rhyme

I frowned when I found my new pup was gone,
so, I searched all around for my little foxhound,
listening with profound intensity until dawn.
I was gowned but changed; headed to the pound,
in the eastbound lane that would take me there.
I yelled to expound, '"There's no time to spare!"

Traffic moved slowly, so I found a way round it,
now westbound, my nerves were coiled and wound.
I stopped at a campground and called his name, "Jit!"
I heard no barks or mewling. Not a single sound.
Pup, where are you? Hiding behind a hill or mound?
Did you dig holes in the ground, earthy and browned?
Pup, if you're lost, in salty tears I would be drowned.

Fears abound that I would never see his face again.
My spirits low, not much further can they be downed.
I heard, "Woof!" and my heart beat in quick refrain...
Quickly, Jit ran to me, faster than a racing greyhound!
All this time he'd been asleep in my car's backseat.
My pup continues to astound me with kisses so sweet.
He follows me everywhere, hoping for a doggie treat!



~   April 26, 2022   ~
Nursery Rhyme 3 Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper

They Said Wonderful Things

We sat at the Rehearsal Dinner for my Son and his beautiful bride-to-be.
After the food and desserts and coffee,
It came time to raise our glasses.

We had already gone through the awkwardness
Of special accommodations
Of meetings with people who had been at odds with us over the years.

But when it came time to toast the groom
They said wonderful things.
I was silent, in listening mode.

I had my toast in my heart.
A toast of thanksgiving for all the mercy he had shown me
Over the years.

I hadn’t been the best father
Treading water just to keep myself
Afloat - above water.

But…that mewling, pink, naked person
That I was the first to hold
Was always someone I would have taken a bullet for.

Despite my ineffectiveness
He’d grown into a fine man
With talent and a spirit of fire.

There were many remembrances that I heard
In other tongues than my own
But bearing resemblances to my own experiences.

My heart soared like an Eagle
I took some credit for the “him” he had become.
They said wonderful things.

© Richard A. Martin, Jr., MD, CPC, 2017

9

Once a cute little bedraggled stray
who wore a tuxedo colored gray
charmed his way into our home to stay.

Regal, royal ruler of the floor
howling, yowling, mewling, “Feed me more!”
Escape artist foils guard at the door.

Now the dish is gone, the house is still,
no pattering paws, no purring trill.
Bones laid to rest on top of a hill.

A New Sunshine

This day takes off, refreshingly
Drifting in umber humility 
Mewling riotously, in cheer 
While, reap colors squint near
Shockingly in shades of pink clear
Evening advances in bliss upon 
From that point on 
The night moon 
Sparkles in splendid, yellow radiate 
As dusk settles over sky precipitate
The metaphorical night fell upon us 
She was loaded up with adoration fuss
Warm emotions gushed inside me 
I spilled out my kind gestures free
On her excellence aplenty
She sparkled like the sun guarantee 
A most moving entry
Of energy and intensity 
To fill the part
Of affection in my heart

Untitled

today is not a day for rumination
     cows are ruminants
contemplating the subtleties of grass
nor is it a diary where Whitmanesque
observations are woven into truth

this is just an exercise of thought
as the bright sun fades to rain
feeding the all the stubborn
imperfections of suburban lawns
while, when I am green,
I am moved toward some
semi-sanitary pit to lose it all

and wet and clammy, mewling
	start again

today is just a day for ruination
squarely in the camp of nihilists
my life a metaphor for all the
other systems woven round
	the earth
a toilet bowl of tempests & chaos

     how short sighted are all 
the porcelain views
the personal is never universal
     nor 'uni' anything

variety is woven through the strands
of everything from DNA to history

why is there only male and female
when no two snowflakes are alike

the rainbow has more colours
than the eye can see
and all of them are beautiful
and everyone has room
within the spectrum
of a fecund life - my life your life
	our lives

Halloween Headlines

Streets awash with mewling cats
and surly swashbuckling pirates.
Somber skies with swirling bats,
and ghastly goblins chasing rats.

Haunting Nights

Streets awash with mewling cats
and surly swashbuckling pirates.
Somber skies with swirling bats,
and ghastly goblins chasing rats.

Wicked witches’ evil glare,
grisly ghouls' ghostly stare,
taunting with a double-dare.
All in fun to give a scare.

Haunted houses with darkened walls;
afraid to walk spell-bound halls.
Toffee apples, popcorn balls;
eating brains and toad eyeballs.

Trick-or-treating door-to-door.
Treats too tasty to ignore.
Harmless tricks more smile than roar, 
kept us giggling for much more.

Parents, neighbors joined the fun.
Scary ghost stories spookily spun.
Fortune tellers’ crystal balls to shun.
Homemade costumes unique to one.

Creamy fudge and devil’s food cake,
all wrapped up for us to take.
Mom's scratch treats, nothing fake.
She took all day long to bake.

Bewitching hour over, fun now done,
to our homes we’d quickly run.
Goodie bags that weighed a ton.
We would share with everyone.

Playing games and laughing out loud,
good times again next year we vowed!

A Soaring Day

This day soars, refreshingly 
Floating in umber modesty
Mewling boisterously, in jollity 
While, harvest colors blink 
Tragically in shades of pink 
Afternoon progresses in happiness
From there on, the evening moon 
Shines in bright, yellow incandesce
As nightfall settles over sky festoon

Living It Part Two

One more eeked out continuum of instant relief
and with the derelict slopes
make of life these challenging boots
lest we fall to the phantoms of defeat

But for me this standardized standard of living
and for the hungry
they watch hope in its inexorable starving
so by my own meager comfort am I brought to infamy
judged by the curse of luxury’s own debauchery

I guess we have to fight
by tooth and nail and follicle
to batter injustice to the floor
only then to suffer the iniquity of pampered ridicule

I guess we should all be proud
to scratch and claw and clamber
one upon one and over the other
this chance we have to make something better
and still never try to do it together

I guess this is it, living it
simpering, mewling rat race that it is
better that
than the meat and blood bones of the trash

So we reach for the boulders at the mountains feet
and count out time by our own ragged breath
and there in the distance
the scornful height rests
one last attempt at life and conquer death

Within the Silence and the Still, the Light

I heard an infant crying in the night
A new born lamb come mewling to the fold
It’s writ on ancient stone in words of old
‘Within the silence and the still, the light’
The moon is high, the mistle berry white
The ice shines in the darkness, in the cold
The stars are born, as all the bards foretold
Within the silence and the still, the light 
Insists itself, as soft at first and slight
White shifts within the mist upon the wold 
That lift as it comes rising rose and gold
Within the silence and the still, the Light!
New born in winter, beautiful and bright
Within the silence and the still, the light

© Gail Foster 21st December 2018

Trepidation

The curse of an
inflated imagination.
An escarpment of thought
in a blistering mind.

An invasion of insolence
amidst a tempest-tossed
cacophony
of mewling memories.

A throat restricting,
heart galloping,
and eyes trembling.
A voiceless scream for help.

A crouching body
in cold defeat.
A quivering being,
gasping for an
exasperating breath.

Then, a ferociously seized breath -
transplanted
from an enchained soul,
gives birth to grave apathy.

A silent tear dissipates
into an endless ocean
of trepidation.

Halloween Night Fright 2016-10-21

Have you seen it? ..I cry!
A Gwalligup ..with one great green eye!
Laughing from one ...of its many molten mouths 
Licking the lips of another …my entrails to devour
Oh the agony …Oh the fright
Waiting, watching this Halloween night
Eternally vigilant …all must be
Ever warned ...that my end-you'll see!
Nothing can stop its grueling mewling yaws
No one is safe from its red daggered velvet purple paws

I am but a human …but human I feel no more
Gone is all grace and hope... right out the door
How can I have peace… knowing that gnarly thing is near?
Taking it’s time ….slowly slurping and burping its way to here!

(Please, forgive me for my horror ...please forgive me for my fright
…really it is nothing more ...than a nightmare... I had last night)

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