"cougar" poems
Oh how that woman looks so divine
we can honestly say she's aged like wine
how her lips would feel on mine
oh wondrous cougar so sleek and fine
I'd love to be that cougar's prey
oh how the thought would make my day
I'd be perfectly content being her toy
I'd always be a good little boy
I'm down for whatever is on the head
as long as we leave dents In the bed
oh how she looks so divine
that woman there who aged like wine
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
He's a freshman.
Does that make me a pervert?
A junior would be fine,
A sophomore isn't too bad;
But he's a freshman.
If I was a guy and he were a girl,
Would I feel less weird?
Am I a cougar?
Because I'm a senior, and
He's a freshman.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
Memories are swept away by the wind
I reminisce all the moments we shared
All my shattered hopes you knew how to mend
No matter what I've done you always cared
Remember how we used to play guitar
On The Road To Nowhere we'd take a hike
All these memories seem distant, so far
I miss those days, I miss you Uncle Mike
I'd like to again visit Urchin Falls
And drag our canoe down The Peace River
Hear the frightening sounds of cougar calls
Fossil dig while the rain makes us shiver
When do we get to spend time together
Play in nature all day, despite weather
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 3:58 PM UTC
You were Blue-eyed,
wild
A fierce and cautious beauty.
gentle spirit
Did you know how I loved you,
And how, while the rest of the world mourned for Paris,
I cried the saltiest tears
For you
that rainy fall night
when I heard you
Didn't come home,
One of your pups at your side.
You were not mine
But you haunt me
The same
Were you protecting your pup from
The cougar's watchful prey?
Was it your fate to be struck twice
By the feared and sleek predator
You survived the first time
and made the news ..
Your owner saving you
With all his heart.
Your wide eyed glance
CapturEd my heart
Like a love laced arrow
The first time we saw each other
I will not lose sight of you yet,
Nor give up hope
that You will return to your home,
to your pups.
and to the big, gallant
Baretoes
Who fathered them..
I pray for that news,
Bella the beautiful husky.
I will not forget you.
Your blue eyes will mesmerize me
in dreams
till we meet again
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 11:05 PM UTC
All day panda girl reclines
Exercise she declines
Horsey girl will bring you luck ( U )
Her legs are strong and she drives a truck
Bonobo girl is worth consideration
Taking account of her reputation
Cat girl charms you with her eyes
She chings her claws and claims her prize
Crocodile girl will make you happy
Until she gets a bit too snappy
Dormouse girl may give a peep
Together you'll have a lovely sleep
Turtle girl will be just swell
If you coax her from her shell
Wallaby girl needs some space
To hop about from place to place
Tarantula girl gives you pangs
When she shows her fearsome fangs
Cougar woman's after me
Completing my fantasy
Menagerie
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 1:33 PM UTC
I'll be your raindrop
if you'll be my window pane
or
I'll be your wet blouse
if you're caught in the rain
Be my asylum and
I'll be your criminally insane
and
I'll be your stock options
if you'll be my net gain
If you were my trap
I'd cordially be your reeking dead mouse
or
I could be your wrap-a-round porch
if you'd be my creeking old house
I'll be your idiot
if you'll be my quick thinker
and
You can be my Bud Lite,
I'll be your binge drinker
I'll be your loser
you can be my laughing hyena
or
You can be my cougar
and I'll gladly be your half-dead zebra
Be my ****** predator
I will be your self-defense class
or
I'll be your censorship and
you can just be your own **** ***
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 11:08 AM UTC
Like a plane in the
fog
looking for a place to
land
Like a man in a
homeless shelter listening for the rapture
A pelican on a pier
eyeing his next meal
the last apple on a
tree all ready
to fall
Remember I started with blue
skies in front of me
I studied my flight plan well
I knew I'd be landing
I knew for sure
it wasn't going to be hell
I always tried to do so well,
focusing in on innocence
when ever I was able to
But there are failures of compass
The phantom captain takes
a nap
The instruments may keep on
saying you're right on track
But
the only trust I have is
in the Northern Star
and in Mars high
in the sky.
It seems impossible
to be so lost
Like a plane in the
fog
looking for somewhere
to land.
Like a woman working tables
until two a.m.
Her fitness app keeps saying
a hundred years this shift
The fuel is evaporating
The miles to go before zero
keeps hopping
Like a whale without a culture
no one to talk to
The sky is a 300 mile high
air ocean
I thought I was free
to get from here to there
Like a window with a view
of a brick wall
Phoenix in the summer
A tsunami on dry land
A river without a name
A cougar and no game
Like a lover whose left
and no way to find their name
So many aspects of this life
Departures and arrivals
a one way ticket
There is a great darkness
out in the distance
I know it's getting closer
but
I keep on drifting
Like a plane in the fog
looking for a place to land.
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
a hipster is like a cat, curious... an authentic person is like a cougar, for serious.
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
In miniskirt she
Dances, streaked hair and all that
but oh, she is old!
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 10:55 PM UTC
Packed into
holiday traffic
on Christmas Eve,
I recall a story
told by my mother
of a snow blown pass
in the Rockies
near Estes Park
and the searing glow
of cougar eyes
just beyond
the high beams
her rear wheels whined
the engine sputtered
and the snow
kept falling
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 12:51 PM UTC
With Jungle eyes
and cougar hide,
you sit at the bar in
idle conversation.
Your age doesn't fit
your face
but on your tummy,
just above your waist,
wrinkled nebulae and the half moon scar
show your whole universe.
And you show me the ethereal
ways of love and ***
I thought there was more to it,
but that naive notion falls flaccid,
as you grab your dress,
pull it over your head
and leave.
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 10:05 PM UTC
If older women seeking youthful men are cougars according to some.
Then older men are hunters seeking youthful women to energize them.
Which isn't to be confused with a predator.
One seeking physical emotional comfort.
While the other seeking intimate needs before taking ******
You know the little blue pill that males of age brags upon.
The man like a lion seeking his next meal.
Notice the money many older males uses to attract them.
Buying them gifts of various kinds to please them.
But the cougar seekers that want male candy upon their arm.
Fall for many with endurance to satisfy them.
Bringing out that late nature of desires that been held back for many years.
Strange to say, many of us probably know people like them.
Who we could name in a moment notice?
The Hunter.
The Cougar.
Really, there's no differences between them.
They both seeking various things to keep them pleased.
The Cougar.
The Hunter.
Who only searching for thrills?
While we go only just a judging them.
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
Ex's
I am a part of all of them
even the ones I hate.
Maybe especially the ones I hate.
They are transferred paint
after the fender ******
at the unfortunate intersection
of fate and bad timing.
Not enough damage to make a difference.
Not even enough impression that
you care to be bothered changing your schedule
to repair it.
But every time you leave the house,
and on every lap around the chariot,
you see a trespassing color screaming
of either their bad decision.........or yours.
Sometimes it seems there are more accidents
than pleasant Sunday drives.
I suppose most encounters must be accidents
until we find the uncluttered road to our destiny.
L.E. was life shift
and napkins.
I didn't even know I needed napkins
when I had paper towels in the house.
I Jones for napkins these days.
D.B. was college
and fashion.
Shiny shoes moved her to the soul of my feet.
Now Kiwi polish
smells like foreplay to me.
N.R. was forbidden
and my piano teacher.
I hated practice, she loved to kiss
The oral exam was one of my best finals.
I like tests more than most people today.
J.T. was a cougar
and Tchaikovsky connoisseur.
Maturity was uncovered, along with adult lessons
about carpet knap and fireplaces.
I am Pavlov's dog in the strings of Symphony #6.
L.J. was adventure
and abandon.
She is a grassy carpet over a live train tunnel
in a memory I should regret, but don't.
She is the crossbeam in my permanent smile.
I am an estrogen inspired creation
finding purpose in soft fleshy motivation.
I am who I am
because of their compunctions and compulsions.
They scraped off on me
in the kamikaze journey to fight loneliness.
But in the dive I learned -
grace is humbling when you don't deserve it,
toilet paper has a perfect delivery direction,
I get the right side of the bed,
you shouldn't say anything
you don't want to hear again,
it's my job to take out the trash,
shutting your mouth sooner than you think
is almost always the better choice,
you can never have enough closet space,
and some experiences are so good
that you should never try to repeat them again.
She may be gone forever.
And we may not be able to have
a decent conversation for the rest of our lives.
But God knows
I'll always have napkins.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC
**Buzzard, eagle, falcon, hawk,
Tiger, cheetah, lion, leopard,
panther, cougar, wild cat
intense all these predators are,
in carnal love and the war for dominance.
Each has characteristic hunting ways,
in day time prowling, plain beasts, they remain,
at sunset , each springs up, party time starts.
Birds of prey in silence watch from above
and find the right target, at a time that suits.
No endearments, in love or in games,
only body speaks of desires or warnings
Swift expression of demand, quick strike,
overpower and make the other surrender.
Throaty growls hurting silence of the forest
double as their sparse love language.
Hunters can never be lovers, their actions speak,
they demand, commandeer, force to surrender.**
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 9:13 AM UTC
Maybe I'll have a family some day and put up a Christmas tree every year
Maybe I'll open up a studio called Phizzog and have a pet parrot named Cougar
Maybe I'll marry the love of my life and wake up to the sun peeking through my beach house window
Maybe I'll live to be 102 and be the crazy old lady with tattoos all over her body
Maybe I'll have a baby girl named Charlie and she'll create modern technology some day
Maybe I'll be a pro walrus trainer and I'll be famous all around the world
Maybe I will make people proud and I'll be super happy
Maybe I won't and I'll be miserable
Maybe I'll be poor and have a bunch of rad friends
Maybe I'll struggle, fake a suicide and change my name
Maybe I'll move to Nantucket and be apart of a pro sport team
Maybe I'll find a place that makes me feel like I belong and I'll go to school, get smart, get what I need
Maybe I'll die young and get lucky
What have I gotten myself into
Aug 8, 2012
Aug 8, 2012 at 1:59 PM UTC
As feathers fall upon the soft spring snow,
Terror freezes the knowing like black ice,
For careless eyes pierce the veil below
In search of blood in gory paradise.
The wanted flee like pigs in blind terror
Of such a doom, each step hard as their breath.
A cracked smile on the beak of the horror
As he drops into the chaos, fearless.
Yet he faced something he did not expect.
Said the eagle to the mouse, "Why not run?"
The mouse simply smiled as she spoke up,
"Why not fly?" as the cougar caught his lunch.
And now the lemmings and mice run again;
The cougar was hungry, the eagle dead.
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
Then took her by complete surprise;
Bursting forth into hysterics
I gazed into her glazed, mesmeric eyes
**My intention descending like nightmarish haze;
*Said **** that merit badge
Grandma ***** let the cat out the bag
I wanna play***
She's fixin for a lickin
And I'm dying to get a taste
That ***** glistening so listen
Preheat the oven don't need no glove
I've got an addiction
finna bore in
frictionless!
Instantly smitten,
Her face turned shades of crimson
when I finished with
"Lets play genital hide & seek -
You're it"
It's time to remit demented dementia baby
I'm not so easy to forget;
& I'm shots of splotchy red like syphilis
*Don't front like you won't give me the nookie
Girl urrbody had a crack at your world famous cookies
& I just can't keep my hand out the jar*
Tonight I'll wrestle a cougar with my bare hands
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
It's lovely outside, I think I’ll go knickerless today.
You don’t want to do that, you might get knocked down by a bus.
Why would that make any difference.
You always have to wear clean underwear when getting knocked down by a bus.
Do you make these things up.
Did your mum never tell you, you always have to wear clean underwear when leaving the house, just incase you get knocked down by a steamroller or such.
My mum said a lot of things, luckily for me I grew up, unlike some people I may add.
Hardly my fault my mum has to come round and cook for me.
Cook, she cuts your sausages, you’re a child.
Sure she’d cut your carrots if you asked her.
Think I’ll wear pants now, you’re driving me nuts.
You’re not wearing white, are you.
Why, does mummy not allow white.
I’m more thinking of the guys in the office.
What, what's it got to do with them.
It’s got a lot, you don’t want the guys glimpsing boring white, put black on.
The guys in my office are too busy to be perving at my underwear.
Guys are never too busy, it's our job in life to check the girls out.
My last boyfriend was never like this.
That’s because your last boyfriend usually wore your knickers.
He just liked the feel of women's underwear.
How is his hormone treatment coming along, is he wearing your bra yet.
Get knotted mummy’s boy.
Talking about mummy’s, I’m taking yours running tonight. Hope she’s wearing the skimpy shorts.
That’s another thing, you told my mum she shouldn’t wear pants under her shorts, why would that be.
Might be something to do with the leg massage I give her after our run.
You are sick.
Your mum’s a cougar. Actually, just thinking about her is getting me hot, fancy a quickie.
Get stuffed, just get me to work without mentioning my mum, underwear, or any other perversions in your sick brain.
Do my best, white pants.
I’ll get you in the car, need to get something.
Nice legs lover, did I glimpse black ******* there.
Well, you said it, we need to keep the guys happy, any luck one of them will ask me out.
Well if they do, tell them you’re not available this weekend.
And why would that be.
Cos I’m taking you to Paris.
Maybe I don’t want to go to Paris.
Oh you will, five star hotel, tickets to see that weird female singer you love.
Okay, I’ll need a new outfit, maybe a few outfits. Will I need **** underwear.
Strangely enough no. Me and your mum bought you some.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 3:34 PM UTC
I was young
and you were old
you were shy
And I was bold
I stared at you
you smiled twice
I made my bet
you rolled the dice
I came to you
you felt my smell
I stole a kiss
You fell under my spell
I was a brat
You had no aim
I was an ace
You had no game
I had fun
You had too
I'm leaving soon
You're feeling blue
And so it ends
what never started
in the game of love
you've been out smarted
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 4:11 AM UTC
i was 15 when Kokopele knocked me up
and i was ripe, though unready --
every day i visited my spot
at first to relieve, but then to sate allure --
invisibly appeared,
mysterious pleasure day and night
throbbing at the thought
of that strange spot.
i clawed to sate in dream
what goddess women understand
in noontide reveries,
sultry swells of swoon
i don't know how my belly grew
was it at that drafty wall
or by the reeds..
there were several spots it seems.
i am ashamed
i was told to be ashamed
of this belly i love, and body
cravings carved into my soul,
covert sudden lusts
set in stone at 50,
children grown and making music of their own,
in tents along the streams'
comingled murmur moans,
he visits each in turns
to teach the spiral dance
and finish in the seeded womb.
flowers glow to settle racing heart with truth
infant recognition of an origin's choiceless birth
and now, i am in force --
become katcina cougar, proud Kokopelmana:
the role is taken by the horn --
eat my cornmeal cakes
with crooked somiviki smile while i make you mine
you can scatter but i will find you hiding
purring soft to catch you firm --
every boy and man will learn
.
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 11:13 PM UTC
(My lady in waiting
Was a cougar crouched in the brush.)
Brush it off, no big deal.
I'll console myself
By talking to strangers,
Fraternizing with friends
And enemies alike.
Maybe old men
Fornicating at my image
Is better than true friendship,
Tangible attachment or comfort.
Maybe I never needed it.
(The look and feel of
Printed words on a screen.)
(Maybe the chill was me,
Maybe I am a bit nippy.)
No time was spent
Trying to harvest this field,
Cold winter took all in bloom,
Fresh compassion plucked
Before ripeness came to play.
What was I to you?
We suspected a dream.
I comforted you in
The idea that I was there,
That I could listen.
(My lady in waiting
Was a cougar crouched in the brush.)
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 11:09 PM UTC
Oh ruinous apple,
the flesh
is too much
and sweet as hell,
sweet as
chicken meat
dripping off the bone
to swim in pureed flesh
on the tongue,
oh ruinous apple,
your stem
is no longer a caterpillar,
there is no tiny butterfly
of a leaf
on your dorsal.
Oh ruinous apple,
you say
"I have grown old
and
hate my skin,"
hoping that it will finally
be shredded
and given
to my belly.
Oh ruinous apple,
you are not so old to me,
you have become
a cougar
in your old age and
the seeds
still make tambourine noises
in your ********
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 12:30 PM UTC
I need a naughty granny
with a cougar in her *******
A cougar in her ******* and
cookies in her pocket
to feed my old man belly
and please my old man rocket.
I need a naughty granny
who knows how to shake that thing,
Who's just as **** in her autumn
as she was back in her spring.
I need a naughty granny
to make my old *** feel alive.
Who will still want to do me, when I'm 95.
Jan 14, 2025
Jan 14, 2025 at 9:33 PM UTC
I wanted to name her Kathryn,
because I knew the nickname Kat
was soon to follow.
Kat put kittens in my wife’s head
so she suggested we call her Kit.
Before long, there was a Kit-Kat
in my wife’s belly.
We painted kittens in the room,
cats cute and fearsome accompanied
the cradle, changing table and toys.
We took classes, and told our friends
we’d raise a fiery feline with the heart
of a lion, body of a cougar and head of a fox.
But a fox isn’t a cat they’d say, but we’d just laugh.
Kathryn will redefine feline, female, fiery, and fantastic.
But Kit-Kat turned into candy.
We always said she’d be sweet,
like Halloween’s first treat
before you were filled to bursting,
into tears
over chocolate,
when it was gone.
Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 8:23 PM UTC