Bella's entrancing green eyes
stare wistfully into my own.
She's a windowsill jumper, bounding with grace
whose taken over my apartment as if it's her place.
She's such a pretty little kitty, a catnip dancer
who seems to see herself as a feline, divine.
She charmed me on the day I found her
but as a rescue, she needed time to come to me.
I know this is where she was meant to be.
Sweet girl with a history that remains a mystery
She never meows with sass when corrected,
and her purrs are soothing whispers in the night.
Bella brings me hours of great joy
so, I reward her loyalty with a toy or two.
Wearing a long-haired burnt umber coat,
she sidles up to me, anticipating a petting.
Bella bestows love that I'll not be forgetting
A lap-curler when she chooses to be social
but aloof which proves the theory to me...
'Sometimes cats just like being left alone.'
boa constrictor
sidles up to pet owner
measuring for lunch
faces as old and wrinkled as their clothing
a metered gait adjusted to combined needs
gnarled hands held, as always, in support
the sun welcomes their warm-faced smiles
sounds of children in the distance amuse them
an old dog sidles up in search of a pat
the old park bench waits patiently
there is no hurry – their time - is now
The snake sidles up to Eve
from God she soon seeks reprieve
With us yet, it slithers into Halls of Power
injects venom ~ brave leaders cower
His own voice
talks over his head,
as if he were not there.
The load car radio
plays distant music.
Without thinking,
he changes channels,
hears only
the drumming road.
His eyes are low lit,
they see only feet
beyond his gripped hands.
Sunlight glares past thoughts,
he swivels right, sidles left,
soft shouldering unseen corners.
He is listening to a memory,
just a self-driving memory,
The car jolts –
returns him
back behind his eyes.
He is safe now
from all those passengers
he invited into his mind.
Squinting into time
I grasp a distant folly
Slow dancing alone
It stares back at me
Shimmering in icy lust
This trembling pencil
It sidles closer
A touch of maple abides
Pancakes come to mind
The gauntlet is thrown
A motionless hawk falters
Its feathers ruffled
Adrift in the trees
The echo of lost moments
A dove high cooing
A gray and white cat sidles up
against the splotchy green dumpster
and meows despite himself.
The plastic lid slams hard at the end
of another long shift. It sounds desperately final
like the North Springs station, or the highest note
of a violin.
The boy sidles to the wall
Slides to the ground
Buries his head under his folded arms
Why are they doing this to him?
The laughter gets louder and louder.
He is now in the fetal position.
What is happening? Asks his mother.
The therapist has no idea.
He does not speak.
He is in a world of his own
Where everyone is laughing
At him
the insistent dragons are back
I watch them fly over Gibraltar hill.
Outside petunias are crowding toward the house
There is a castle waiting for me in the distance
I move closer to the lace curtains.
Wanting to get a better look at my destiny.
Find myself staring at the woman I will be one day.
She gives me a resigned look.
Teddy bear sidles closer, and I cuddle him.
My school work can wait.
The dragons have a message.
I strain to hear, to understand, to be the real me.
It's in the gloaming
in lingering twilight
that beside me the disquiet sidles
clouds idle, the violet of a bruised eyelid
and shape of fingers broken
and long healed
permanently wrong.
Inside me the violence is silent
but wants me pried open
wants my right hand knuckles swollen
wants an explosion
The release of a fight
so long denied I've forgotten
how my nose feels broken
It's ironic, my kindness.
The lie of my niceness.
How I hide behind politeness.
I'm like a vegan that ate meat as a child and loved it, devoured it, cracking open the bones to lap up the marrow, who greedily suckled the fatty sleeve on a new York strip, who now frequents dreams where steaks make blood puddles all over the plate. In the dreams the blood tastes of violence and light, when she breathes she can taste the death in the silence and in the blood on her tongue she tastes life.
Ye old West signposts, green with needle-spurs:
Santa Rita prickly pear, pancake prickly,
plenteous buckets and sunset pink occurs.
It’s mountain time to sip some wine dearly
as the cacti shadows wax in the desert
and the elephant head’s fading quickly.
Breakfast in the stucco casa like dessert -
a dutch baby with segmented mandarin fruit.
Golden Retriever’s friendly and the striped cat’s curt.
Kabob sidles through crack - cat’s bedroom route,
lies on the visitor’s quilt - comfortably cute.
2/9/2022
She slithers up to me
but I take a step back, carefully, gingerly
It’s not that she is not affectionate,
because you would think that if you saw
The way she wants to get close.
I have watched her in action before.
I know when she sidles up, she wants something.
Seriously?
Have I ever looked more serious?
She has a forked tongue but who am I to ruin the surprise?
I am sure she has qualities that would enhance and excite
Qualities that would uplift you at least momentarily,
however, in my own experience, she is seductive, sneaky, sassy
and seriously potentially poisonous.
You do not have to take my word for it.
Go speak to the carcasses in the corner.
Boosted immunity is an aim for us all
Like most, I have a rattling compartment
Where selection of supplements offer
Ongoing trip, ship of health embarked
My eight year old angel of exuberance
Sidles beside me for her citrus share
When she hears vitamin bottles tinkling
Chasing crisp vitamin C's sparkling flair
Sherbert fizz raphsody rests on her palm
Envelope of appreciation wraps me neatly
" There's lots of of Vitamin L for you," impromptu joke
" Vitamin Love" instant grin returns sweetly
10th August 2020
Submitted in: Any Form, Any Theme 20
Sponsor: Brian Strand
There is this bunny, you see
Who lives right next door to me
I haven't figured out her/his pronoun yet
But I can tell that he/she would make a grand pet
What I find cute about the bunny is this
It hasn't yet learned how to kiss
This morning it sidles up to a cat
And puckers up its lips oh-so-fat
But it closes its eyes, then Surprise!
The cat slips away, it falls and ---
Now, why would you think I'd write 'dies'
What kind of 'grand pet' is a dead bunny
Especially one you can't kiss
And can't tell if it's Mr. or Ms...
Well, sure hope I've made your day sunny
Even if there's no playboy in the bunny
The opposite of love is not hate
It is fear of change, difference, or mood
It sidles with a serpentine gait
Hiding, gathering ammo like it’s food..
January 6, 2019
"Fear is a slinking cat I find beneath the lilacs of my mind."
-Sophie Tunnell
Sub Categories
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.