minou minou
sentient cat burglar
ninja on the prowl
AP: 1st place 2025
I've always known you
to be a monarch, a fairy
golden wingdust scatter
all over my psyche
Do you remember
when we were flightless
like caterpillars?
Now you fly in a private jet, I bet
Do you still curve your lips
into a Mona Lisa smile?
Or do you weep now, from afar?
Do your tears stain the very petals
you touch with your wingtip?
The wind is a howling a gale,
there’s thumping and bumping outside.
There’s moans that sound very ghostly
and it shrieked like somebody cried,
so I stepped out into the darkness
where mystery I hoped would unfold,
then whack! I am flat on me back.
Someone has knocked me out cold.
My wife helped me into the house,
and one eye is swollen and black.
I am dazed and I’m feeling befuddled,
and confused from this nasty attack.
I asked her to ring up the police;
they’ll take care of this inhuman brute,
and I know that he will not get far,
once the coppers are in full pursuit.
While dazed on the sofa, one copper
stayed behind to make sure I’m secure,
and he winced at the sight of me eye,
from the bashing that I did endure.
And he promised me quite faithfully,
that his partner will make an arrest;
that the thug who waited in ambush
will soon be Her Majesty’s guest.
And we were not waiting too long,
for the back door came quickly ajar,
and the copper who was in pursuit,
stood there looking a little bazaar.
He too has a swollen black eye
but the thug is no more than a fake,
for he mentioned that I ought to know,
he stepped on the same bloody rake!”
At peace midnight he blew his whistle
Down the street he walks alone
Followed behind by his own shadow
He makes the dark aware not to be lone.
There he steered by the chromatic moonlight
And fight against those felony psychs
He palisades by his valiance so intent
Yet he never abscises his pride.
Once he acquaints with the shadow of his own
And once he portrays the shush of the street
Once he co-occur with the beggars penury
And once he scouts the homing boozier.
He meets with the world unspoken by us
And augurs the dormant cursed by the veil
He is blessed by the mighty of his nous
And devour the dark by the power of his soul.
Beguiles his journey by the yowl of the owl
Enriched by the wrawl of the embryos
Befriendly he enured the life so perverse
Fruitfully he lives with the liberty of his own.
Followed behind his own shadow
He deserves the world to see all alone
Yet he never abscises his pride
Down the street he blew his whistle lone.
-----------------------x---------------------------
I am Poet.
The unrelenting prowler
of emotions
and I walk
day and night,
reaching
to edges of life.
And, through my creations-
my voice,
I give
words
to the unspoken
feelings,
dowered with such beauty,
truth and pain.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.