Pets Poetry Contest // Sponsored by: Rob Carmack
( 9th Place )
Written: September 02, 2025
He waits at the edge of morning,
ears angled toward a distant sound.
A single breath, a quiet length
then he bounds, unstoppable
through the thin gold sliver of sunlight
that slips underneath the door.
His eyes bring the weight of wonder:
Each step a question, a story.
The flick of his tail is a language of love.
cherishing quiet contentment.
I kneel and he rests in...
A soft warmth burning against my hand
and for a fleeting, perfect heartbeat
the world is nothing but fur,
sunlight and the trust
that lives in the spaces between.
Every flick of his tail brings
a story only our hearts recall.
She used to be fast
and bouncy,
but after two strokes
her head began to tilt
over her rolling neck
and podgy body.
Yet, through bleary eyes,
she saw off
starlings and cats,
toppling into them
with her comic
John Wayne walk.
When called
She would stagger sideways
wet nose tracking the sound,
then lurch forward,
tongue lolling,
a wide grin of recognition
plastered over her fuzzy face,
her brain.
Near swift streams
Hear loud screams
Dear ones unsteady
Gear up—make ready!
Fear causes pause
Bear paws claws—
Bead on the Grizzly
Lead story too grisly
Dead hide becomes rug
Deed told with a shrug
After working long hours, I can come home to rest.
As soon as I place my key into the door, I can hear a series of steps.
It is the steps of my little daughter.
She is my baby.
My first born from a person that gave her up for a better life.
I am her dad and I love her.
My only wish is that she can know my future child or that she is reincarnated as my human daughter.
Her little paws warm my hands
I may never know the warmth of the hand of a human child
As I am cursed to be alone forever and with no family
Let her paws be the fire I need!
In the verdant valley of claw-some tales
lived a lady in a cottage of tails.
Every morning, her cat Grey loves to sit,
sip chamomile tea until paws permit,
a scratch here and there to wake her spirit,
so the sneaky rodents nearby fear it.
But the cat knew not the language of hate;
she was a queen dreaming of love and fate.
To unleash the mice that hide and scurry
through the countryside without a worry.
The rising sun too knows how stars despise
grumpy kittens purring through greedy eyes.
And Miss Grey did nothing but deeply muse,
while vested in checkered silvery hues,
she crafted a plan to spread stellar light
amidst the chaos that dwells at midnight,
hopes for peace within the community,
gives all the lives an opportunity~
to shine and flaunt their soft furry wishes,
wave sorrows goodbye with purrfect kisses.
Meowlu the cat, with fur so black,
Sings meow-meow upon his back;
His purrs are soft, his whiskers long,
He loves to hum his favourite song.
At night he wakes and stretches wide,
Then to the window, he glides;
With tiptoe paws and eyes so bright,
Meowlu steps out into the night.
The moon shines down on the grass so green,
Where Meowlu starts his nightly scene;
He mews a tune for all to hear,
The nighttime creatures gather near.
With crickets chirping, frogs in tune,
Meowlu conducts beneath the moon;
Till dawn arrives, he takes a bow,
Then home he trots, with one last meow.
He was 6 foot 3.
I was 5 foot 5.
My only thoughts at that moment were staying alive..
Caught in the tenacles of his grip, helpless as I witnessed
my top rip..
My bra lifted up as mammoth paws perspired, my
round breasts exposed, he paused and admired..
"You are beautiful" he said and then forcibly
he pushed down my head..
My face now buried in a groin, male parts exposed.
I caved to his needs with hopes he would go..
One predator preying on a weaker sex.
I was grateful that he hadn't broken my neck..
One vulnerable woman who managed to survive,
in a country where sexual assaults happen to one out of five..
She used to be fast
and bouncy,
but after two strokes
her head began to tilt
on the rolling deck
of her body.
Through bleary eyes,
she saw off
starlings and cats,
toppling into them
with her comic
John Wayne walk.
When called
She would wobble sideways
tracking the sound,
then lurch forward,
tongue lolling;
a wide grin of recognition
plastered over her fuzzy face
and brain.
My dogs talk to me,
Every day,
I have to listen carefully to what they say.
My dogs talk to me,
Every afternoon,
Tell me when to start to play.
My dogs talk to me,
Every evening and night,
Tell me when it's time to sleep.
My dogs talk to me,
And say good night.
Kitten pauses over fishbowl because,
it can't stand wetting its dry and clean paws.
So the goldfish are safe, free from the jaws.
And don't they know it, as they flap applause,
When they nonchalantly swim with no cause
For fear of cat, which obeys nature's laws.
my mother had cool paws and long fingers
she could have been an artist
but she reserved her love
for an infant
she would play a merry tune
with my chubby fingers and toes
while singing like an irish harp
perhaps your mother
was as talented as my mother
I bet she played peekaboo’
just as well as my mother did
but my mother
had cool paws and long fingers
and when i was but a fractious toddler
she would play the bagpipes
until i would
in desperation
yell
ENOUGH!
with bitsy paws and tiny snout,
just watch this puppy romp about
and bring such joy to children's eyes
that you will think she's giant-size
January 31, 2023
Bite Size No. 60 Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier, Sponsor
glossy coat gleaming
beneath the star studded skies
shining in moonlight
Do you remember that ghost-eyed dog
on the beach who always came so close
to hunt us with her love?
She became one with the waves now,
washing away our hues and shades,
blessing the wet sand with her running paws.
She is so far away now,
her piercing blue eyes seeking for the unknown
pursuing the echo of our long-lost love song.
I’d like to believe
that it is its vibrations that keep her alive.
And no one can tell what will happen
when all the voices die away.
(...will she ever come back to find us?)
Chief Runs with Paws was on the prowl.
His trip through the alley ended in a growl.
His war paints showed us he was at the ready.
He held the rat’s gaze, full on and steady.
Chief Runs with Paws gave the beast a chase.
He scooped him up and tore his head off with haste.
His tomahawk was not even used one bit.
The rat’s cousins and sisters pitched a royal fit.
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