Short Mewling Poems

Rumbling floor leech
Mewling kitten becomes The
Hunter's new target...

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

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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...

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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....

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an icicle
drip, drip, dripping away
slips of spring

sunlight gleams
winter garb cast aside
petticoats flash

rays of gold
glistening on the glen
flicks of foxtails

mewling mouths
nuzzle at their mother
come spring



[“petticoats” in this instance are meant to signify 
glistening white snow, hidden beneath gray snow banks, 
and exposed suddenly by early spring sunshine.]...

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Even predators have mothers
and with the soft mewling eyes of infancy
they search, search for the breast of mother
the beak, the tooth, the talon, the claw…
Children worldwide hunger.
The small weak voices and stone dead eyes calling out
to those who have…
Mothers making stone soup.
Mothers giving of their own body the last
remnants of harsh life as the haves
go on safari’s or to zoos to
feed the animals....

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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...

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A TRUTH THAT I EXPLORED
                                     sukumar mohanty
                 (1)
My sun had already in back,
Returning from the field;
I saw the twilight tube-well;
	Eclipsed by the green arms;	
And lonely in the rust.
                 (2)
But I hear the buzzes
Flowing from the mewling tap.
                 (3)
What truth I explored 
For which I thought deep and deep,
Standing alone in frosted tuft,
And my little master giggled
wrap by a lot....

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The spittle of death
A crying newborn
An aching moan
Or the sigh of ecstasy
Life ends here

In a world awash in flame…

The petals have dropped
And been reborn again
Farewell this place in time
If a query should pose
Resolution began here

In a world awash in flame…

Look at our consequence 
You who claim divine knowledge
I’d rather be minute and mewling
Not a false painted demagogue
A judgment paid in our blood

In a world awash in flame…...

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