Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Bardo Mar 2018
Snuggy ****** of a curled up cat by
   the fire
Furry faced, smiley headed, svelte
   purveyor of the big meow
Purring away like a Geiger counter,
If you seek Nirvana then seek no
   more, it's here
The Cat, she knows.
My cat poem. He's my relaxation technician.
You awakened in me
Something I never expected
A desire to fix all of the
Problems of this world
No matter how drastic
The measure may be

A verified *****
A true blood fox

Fallen for
A life outside
Of boxes

A life with the man
Everyone wanted to be

Or to ****
But I wouldn't change
Things anymore

At first I hated being
Different I hated seeing
Everything through
Lens so different
From my kind

But over time
I grew to love
The differences

The double vision
I Saw
Only with you

Because of you
Life altered by a
Single arrow

Sir Hiss
Be ******
His tricks

Won't hold us back
Any longer
Is now in
Our favor again

Alan-a-Dale's song's seem to point
Me in that direction
The rooster's notes all ring true

To me

Prince John with his thumb
Stuck in his mouth
His mommy
Too much,
Kind Richard
Sent him back to
Work the Royal Rock Pile

Upon his return from
Reconcuering the Holy Land of Jerusalem
From Ayyubid Sultan Saladin

King Richard will set us
All straight again
Me with my Robin Hood

Away from
"In a meeting held on February 12, 1938, Disney commented I see swell possibilities in 'Reynard', but is it smart to make it? We have such a terrific kid audience ... parents and kids together. That's the trouble – too sophisticated. We'll take a nosedive doing it with animals."
Heavy Hearted Jun 2018
The river winds in from distant lands
With mercyless power it turns stone to sand
Through its mysterious life, the very earth it commands
And Yet the fearful river still runs through our hands.
In torrents of furry where the deepest currents flow
The rivers wild waters surge with woe. For
Onward, forever, its destined to go
A permenant home it won't ever know.

The river runs from each of us
As a refugee of fear,
It knows in a blink it will be somewhere else
Its waves are really its tears.
It runs from the audacity  
Of the selfish human mind
As Its massive life capacity,
Of flora and fauna combined,
Are threatened by our antics and helpless to our crime
So the river runs on their behalf, from everyone, in time-

even within its whitecap foam
Water's yearning for a home

So roam does the water- endlessly,
till its long gone out of sight
The essential droplets of the river-
Nomads day and night.
Smoke Scribe Mar 2018
not exactly high heels and thigh highs
but an invitation is an invitation,
engraved or post-it.

when I one-stroke open your furry bathrobe,
furry slippers thunking-kerplunking
onto the polished wood floor,
poet-puts you laughing, protesting, prone,
on the dining room table, we both shaking,
possibly from laughter?

when I one-stroke open your furry parts
with various soft tissue medical instruments,
to which ****** harm is now "uncovered"
as specially advised by my insurance company,
no more, no matter,
the lady doth protest too much about my methodology, methinks,
no more, no matter
recently recovered some omy smoke scribe lost poems

written January 3, 2014 at 12:27:05 PM EST
Marina Lambrini Diamandis
De Grecia
Try Everything
Who can guess the Masquerade of this Time
Such Event is a Turtle; Withdrawn to a Box
None is ever wasted; None is left behind
None is allowed to lick and tether a Fox
It is the Creature; Banned for a Reason
The Furry Red was no benefit to avail
You cannot bargain; Not even for a Season
Better if the Document is stamped by a Snail
At least it was Honest; And hardly Fraud
Shall my Letter then be sent with such Mail
Else cheat your Lover whilst he is Abroad?
Or perhaps better resolve this Bitter Alimony.
Neither you or I in this Picnic we enjoy
The Duckling Issue whose Exit we deploy.
Trapped inside the marble wall while people sharing breads.
My mama goes away leaving me alone for days.
I listen to some joyous kids playing outside.
The smallest window to share the sky and agony to hide.
My love left me locked and beat me up as I chewed the comb.
I will *** again on the floor to assign you another job.
Bitterness filling my heart soaking tears along,
While your soft hands melt all the pain away and prove me wrong.
But angry dad always scolds me anyway without reason.
My dreamy eyes wish for his love after a day in prison.
I am a desirable fluffy ***** sharing furry feelings to you all.
Aunt and mom rescued me from my visions to fall.
Love is all we need as I suffered inside furry coat.
They keep me alive from this ruthless world on a dusty boat.
This poem is about our little ***** "Mowgli". She is not alone I hope we are all beside them. Thank you.
Jack L Martin Sep 2018
Hanging on the wall, next to my bed post,
A friend of the forest looks surprised, most.
Oh dear, she did not hear the gunshot near,
Nor tree nor hill nor her fawn shed a tear.

Over there, the finest hair of the hare,
Cute and fluffy hopping into my stew.
It's seat is sweet and hard to beat I swear,
Though his hide is gamey and tough to chew.

A sow, a cow is how I eat for now,
I feast on the beasts with the finest meats.
Fresh flesh on my breath, fresh blood on my brow,
Slaughtered, like their daughters; fair market treats.

I feel nothing for these creatures I hunt.
Would you rather feast on the yeast they shunt?
Next page