Pounced Poems | Examples

Playtime

It is not but a tiny ball of yarn I say as I roll it around in my hand then throw it away.  The littlest furball sees it and squalls a hiss which made her mother even twitch. She pounced and rolled and bounced and scolded that teeny tiny ball of yarn until she molded it upon her four paws. Down on her back it was a balancing act which then brought a smile to my face in fact. Oh my goodness the cuteness and the pureness addresses each part of my heart.  Her eyes alight as her brother jumps in or on if you will.  Within a moment it is a torrent of hisses and scratches which the ball of yarn matches by somehow staying together. As the claws turn to paws each lies on their and pauses if only to draw more air. Then again it ensues two frisky kitties on the loose as the ball they did choose for theirs.

Dream or Nightmare

After many years, it is still not done
I know what happens, but nevertheless
I still feel terror of knowing they come
And I tremble with fear and breathlessness

Into a nightmare disguised as a dream
Were a monster lurks behind a closed door 
I open that door, choke back a wild scream
 When, as expected, he pounced with a roar.  

I sit on the stair and watch it unfold
Unable to change or alter a thing
I hear myself saying “you have been told
face your demons and the terror they bring”

But years of abuse are hard to survive
And crowding my dreams the demons arrive

eye on the storm

The sky is a cloudless crystal blue
with a breeze to chap your lips
I’m grateful for it, it’s heaven-sent
the dawn was a celestially stamped, angry red
sailors take warning

It’s going to get feisty cold,
I’m told
about the time we go back to school.
A polar-bear vortex with all its features
will spread its icy paws

What jumps out at me first
is how it could be worse.
if unapologetic nature
pounced sans disclaimers
with a cold worth semi-Shakespearean verse

What follows, star-crossed
is a week storm-tossed
a winter holocaust
with heaven-kissed frost
that only madness would call a judgement

We’re steered from harm
by precision alarms
stay warm
sweet friends
wrap up, stay in
.
.
Songs for this:
Come In from the Cold by Marc Broussard
World's A Changing by The Bingtones

God Winks

Sometimes the naturally gifted 
are without a flake of ambition
and the thoroughly ungifted 
have the ambition of a raging river. 
The wallflower wishing to be alone
seems to attract a murder of crows
a social butterfly's world will contract 
into a black hole of pure emptiness
A snake with a taste for blue sky eggs
makes its way through the uppers of discomfort
and the bird must plunk to the ground for seed
only to be pounced upon by the fanged unseen.
The un-writer has a fatal addiction to quill
and the one who paints rainbows in thought
has a chronic case of writer's block.
                 Gods humor.

The Mouse With The Hat

The zippy mouse, a sneaky astute magician
Went up the stage with slithering elan
Waved his shining black top hat
Watched from behind the wings by Billy, the cat
The lights dimmed, he pounced with stealthy snare
The mouse flipped the hat, Billy vanished in thin air

Peacespeaker

Pairing knives peppered the garden growing by the river.
Eerie sounds slid sideways into the lowering light.
Alfy and Alice were still out cavorting beyond the barn.
Children in dusty blue dresses yawned on the paint-chipped deck.
Ernie and Emmett kept to tussling along the riverbed,
Something about some girl they both shined over.
Papa didn't budge over it with a freshly lit pipe in his slow rocker.
Even with the yellin' and cussin' and grabbin' gettin' hotter and rougher.
All told I'd reckon this was their 10th row since I moved back to the farm.
Knowing their love of escalation they were bound to spot one of the knives.
Estuary frogs croaked through the purple summer sky when I pounced,
Running thru the squeaky screen door for silhouetted shivs dancing riverside.

Little Miss Muffet

“Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey,
Along came a spider who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.”


After a long vacation a little girl called Miss Muffet and her family  
returned home at night. They realized the house needs cleaning that 
they decided to do in the morning. Meanwhile, mother served Miss
Muffet bowl of curd and whey. She sat comfortably on a soft tuffet,
and as she was about to take the first spoonful of her favorite treat,
a big spider descended from the window sill where it had built a web
when the house was empty. The eight-legged creepy creature was
attracted by the scent of the snack. So, it came down and sat beside 
Miss Muffet. Suddenly, a fly whizzed in from nowhere and crawled 
up the bowl. The swift spider ran fast across the arm of Miss Muffet,
and pounced on its prey that disappeared within its mouth. The fast
moving scaring scenario frightened Miss Muffet, and she ran away.
Upset and hungry, she could not sleep that night.

A Stomped On Heart

My whole nervous systems fried
There's a day I haven't cried
From the feelings I've bounced
all around--it's like you pounced
On a heart you suffocated
That can't be resuscitated
My life force is being drained
And your footprint is engrained
With tread marks of certain doom
You didn't leave me any room 
To catch any of my breath
My hearts being squished to death
Along with the love I gave
Now its all just in the grave
You buried my love away
Stomping on it till the day 
I no longer live any more
You hated me down to the core
From the start I don't know why
All these years was just a lie

life

Life creaked upon me- one sound at a time- new eras pounced on me- like invaders, taking me for a ride in different directions- bending me to its will.  It turned me, straightened me, and then concurred with the possibility to make me or break me.
It was to make me whole or splinter me into tiny pieces- The pandemonium of each event only strengthened my resolve to not become the fragile being life was trying to create. These invasions formed oceans, mountains of debris, paragons of time, and outlandish prophecies of what was to become of me.
It created expectancies with the stench of defeat- but I resolved not to be beaten.  I excitedly absorbed all that life had thrown my way- I took it to my breast- held it lovingly and declared to conquer all my fears, joys, weaknesses, defeats, triumphs, sorrows, heartbreak/aches, and pain- and called it by name – life –
Yes, life – that is what it is all about- life-

Destruction of the Devil

He fell, yet held to denial
She'd gone several seasons to send him to hell
Cold iron rod was insufficient to smash him
She saw and stretched for the sledge
His face of caramel caved, dwindled he like a drunk
Rage of storm flung him fast amidst junk.

Astronomical lift cushioned her
Keen students returned respect, while she waged war
For the culprit, that aged false balm intent to win -
One would glean, Neil deGrasse Tyson discerned her dreams
He knew folk art, martial art, art of other sort
His gift lingered long like caution to one
For he stood as master of space she graced
She who observed in awe his wit, felt aroused.

Then and there, she feared no more the devil's lure
Weapons herculean lay wait
She pounced and pound, his faint voice drowned.
She lunged, sledgehammered away his head
Specialists would haul and burn remains,
joy and pain, touch of rain, prelude to spring renewal.

*

Sad Ending for Steampunk Mouse

Steampunk mouse was at the finish line
Driving his teapot with gears so fine
The rest of us chanted the steampunk song
Wanting him to stop and wave at our throng

Steampunk mouse came in first at first
But a ruling was made, second was announced.
Something made this a tiny bit worse…
At finish line a huge cat got him when he pounced.

Lost Flight

I left the nest one night,
  Fell out!
  My very first flight.
  Sparkling dew sprinkled across my feathers.
  Soared and twisted in the air,
  Swinging wings,
  I beat the air!
  Scavengers saw me from below.
  Pounced!
  When I got to low.
  Lost my heart and a wing,
  Lost my flight.
  But I can still sing!

Cat's Dinner

Down upon the ground,
   A cat heard a sound,
    And went to investigate,
   It wasn't a bird,
    Or a mouse about she heard,
   But her dinner, on a plate,
    So she pounced on it quick,
   And that was it,
    Then she thought,
   Wow, that was great !

Sabre Rattling

With claws like those of a Lioness,
  Beaks like those of an Eagle and
  Horns like those of a raging Rhino, 
  All in one entity
  He looked helplessly as they 
  Swooped on him from from all directions
  No where to run no where to hide;
  With eyes shut, expecting the inevitable
  As they pounced on him, he woke up with a 
  Scream.
  Lo!!! It was just another scary dream.!!!!!

Cookies

Tracked as prey in this digital age,
Logging on and pounced upon every day,
Cookies anointed as algorithmic sage. 

Tired, exhausted, spending the wage,
No where to hide as they all say,
Tracked as prey in this digital age.

Trapped in this computerized cage,
Releasing steam, all the games I play,
Cookies anointed as algorithmic sage. 

An ad here, an ad there: products all the rage,
All of our pathways designed in such array,
Tracked as prey in this digital age. 

Wanton appetite of desires assuaged,
Presented to all as an endless buffet, 
Cookies anointed as algorithmic sage. 

How is it we are all gauged?
Sitting upon scales to be weighed,
Tracked as prey in this digital age,
Cookies anointed as algorithmic sage.

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