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  #1  
Unread 11-24-2008, 06:04 AM
Jim Hayes Jim Hayes is offline
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Holly Martin's cat poem suggest a dedicated thread might be of interest.

Here's one of mine, well it's a failed one really, John Mella declined it. I console myself with the thought that he didn't know what a prat was.

The Pritten.

A cat fell madly in love with a prince
and the prince with the cat was smitten.
And so they got married and soon begat
a lovely, fluffy pritten.

But no one would dare to tell them so
as they spoiled it with this thing and that,
the pritten as it became older would grow
into a useless prat.
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  #2  
Unread 11-24-2008, 05:59 PM
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Laura Heidy-Halberstein Laura Heidy-Halberstein is offline
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Ha - good one, Jim. It took me a read or four before I actually "got" it (in fact - I even went so far as to look up both "pritten" and "prat" before I "got" it - which says way more about me than it does about your poem!)

Anyhow, once the lights went on, I cracked up. Mella missed the mark on this one - it's slunny. (Sly AND funny)

Lo

P.S. Can I post cat poems even if I've posted poem poems on another thread here?

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  #3  
Unread 11-25-2008, 09:03 AM
Donna English Donna English is offline
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Pussy Whipped

My Sheba does her repertoire of tricks. My guests say, Wow!
amazed at what I’ve taught my cat, as always they ask, How?
I show my guests the fading scars that line my hands and head.
“The hardest thing was grabbing her from underneath the bed,
Not everyone can do it.” I go on to tell them that,
“It takes a nagging, gutsy bitch to train a scaredy cat.”



[This message has been edited by fivefootone (edited November 25, 2008).]
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  #4  
Unread 11-25-2008, 09:28 AM
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Janice D. Soderling Janice D. Soderling is offline
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Answer to Laura. Yes, you can D&A is not in the 1 at a time, 7 day rule.

To Donna, What a great last line to a great poem.

Jim. Good idea, I have no cat poems, but know how to read them! A laugh a day, is good for everybody.
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  #5  
Unread 11-25-2008, 09:32 AM
David Rosenthal David Rosenthal is offline
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all four cats
at the foot of the bed --
storm approaching




David R.
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  #6  
Unread 11-25-2008, 02:27 PM
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Laura Heidy-Halberstein Laura Heidy-Halberstein is offline
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Donna, David, those are great. Yanno, even though poetry doesn't sell well, cat stuff does. LOL A book of nothing but cat poems, complete with pictures might just do well.

Hell, I'd buy one.

Lo

Rahula

Come sit, O fat and Buddha-Bellied Cat
Who Thinks He’s Almost Humankind. Reach up
and brush your paw against my face before
you settle in my lap. Turn once, then turn
again and find a place of joy. Stretch each
small claw - first sheathed and then unsheathed and knead
and purr and knead again until your heart’s content.
We’ll sit together, you and I, and rock and reminisce
on lives once lived and loves once lost while safe
within the fireplace unnoticed embers die.

You’ll recollect an alley drenched in dark,
and I, a house too cold and damp. Your mother’s
milk was all you knew - and I, three children,
small soft baby-hands seeking sustenance.

___

Dear Mom,

About that interloping rat -
the one you're passing off as cat?
She's teeny-tiny-creepy small,
and we don't think she's cat at all.

She's commandeered our faux-fur mouse -
the bed, the couch - the whole damn house.
What once was ours she treats as hers.
She charms with sycophantic purrs.

She wrecks our litter, eats our food.
We're not amused - she's just plain rude.
She bites our tails. She steals our toys.
How could you do this to your boys?

How could you bring this creature home -
this nearly hairless little gnome?
Don't call her " Kitty," she's not that -
she's naught but creeping wingless bat.

Quick, take her back! She's such a fake!
Admit you made a dumb mistake.
We're mighty tigers, hear us roar.
Show that bat-faced rat the door.

Don't let her scare us any more.


Love,

Your Lions,
ADD & OCD

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  #7  
Unread 11-25-2008, 09:46 PM
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FOsen FOsen is offline
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Moral Alley

She loudly screws till two tonight,
Then taunts her mates past four,
When jeers erupt into a fight
And now she’s crying at my door.

The neighbors call, they want her banned
But neighbors never understand.

She had nine lives when she was new
And though she’s squandered many,
It’s nice that she still shares her few
With me— I don’t have any.

Frank



[This message has been edited by FOsen (edited November 26, 2008).]
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  #8  
Unread 11-26-2008, 07:35 AM
Roger Slater Roger Slater is offline
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I have just one, a kids' poem in the form of a very easy "riddle" --

RIDDLE

I'm the best. No dog comes close.
When dogs go to the park,
they run around and wag their tails
and fetch a stick and bark.

But I do not waste time like that.
You'll find, when you're with me,
I only do real useful stuff
like climbing up a tree.

Ask a dog to climb a tree,
he'll answer you bow wow,
which in the language of a dog
means, "Sorry, don't know how."

He'll say the same if you should ask,
"Oh dog, please kill that mouse."
Unlike me, he does not earn
his place inside your house.

They say a dog is man's best friend.
No way! How can that be?
Whoever said that overlooked
a better friend -- that's me.
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  #9  
Unread 11-26-2008, 06:28 PM
Janet Kenny Janet Kenny is offline
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Felony


Marmalade cat across the street
huge monument to too much love,
You lick your arse and then your feet
It’s clear the prone dismembered dove
is down to you, fat feline fraud.
Our eyes engage, you look away.
You want to show me that you’re bored,
your yawn, a needle-toothed display.
I know bad actors. I read guilt
in every line and swollen curve.
The collared dove whose blood you spilt
was dealt the fate you more deserve.
Your golden eyes squint mystery.
Inscrutable to some but not
to me you thug, you effigy,
brown-nosing creep, vile sans-culotte.
Somewhere inside your pampered brain
the pards of old demand the price
of hunt and kill. You still retain
their lust for living sacrifice.
Oh, bastard son of Bast, your line
is seeded with the skills to live
yet you submit to plates of Dine.
Shame on you, fatuous feline spiv.

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  #10  
Unread 11-26-2008, 07:35 PM
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Rose Kelleher Rose Kelleher is offline
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I hope Maz doesn't mind if I link to this one at SC: http://thesonnetboard.yuku.com/topic/3083
It was the first poem of hers I ever read, and I was immediately a fan.


Here's an old one of mine.

Fidget

I check, before sitting,
for her shrimp-curl shape.
A 17-year habit's hard to break.

After Leno, in shadow,
a litter of black and white socks on a bed
assumes her feline form, her tapered face.

At noon in the garden sun, I stroke
a leaf of lamb's-ear, finger and thumb
recalling a friend of a different make.


[This message has been edited by Rose Kelleher (edited November 26, 2008).]
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