"meows" poems
Thunder
Boom, Clap, Crash
It frightens the little girl
Thunder
Boom, Clap, Crash
The little cat meows
Thunder
Boom, Clap, Crash
Outside, people run from it
Thunder
Boom, Clap, Crash
It strikes a tree
Thunder
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
a ghost white fluffy fluff **** ball of fur
kneading on my thigh
want to smack it and knock it off
but it’s purring and it’s warm
my friends have the cute
meow meow meows
and feeds it a lot so I pet the kitty
when I’d rather fall asleep or pet you
Soon, it jumps off the bed
presumably to race up and down
the stairs at night, watch the ghost
floof away— its fur hiding its legs
and looking like a hovering white cloth
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 12:04 PM UTC
you may cry now
hello seattle
coffee beans on the window sill
wilting sunflower
i didn't know
you would leave me in a battle
thought you'd save me they ****
but new blue skies every hour
ginger cat meows
only him and i in apartment
tv is on laptop charging
clothes on floor and bed
how you left it how
sit on the chair i can't
you aren't sitting with me darlin'
cat is hungry wasn't fed
open fridge there is a note
buy one milk and three breads
your handwriting
when do you come
cat is ok he ate in boat
in bathtub toilet paper shreds
i write in book keep in margin with love like rome
why is there soap you put in the fridge?
humming bird mind
air conditioner legit
empty mailbox work to do
photos of bridge
ice cream so fine
nice to be happy a bit
maybe it will last, coo!
bet your house messi score that
he did not he missed goal
change channel mancini's scarf on coatrack
blues miss him too do they
will you read this on your bat
cricket is good you are better, soul
is there internet or is there lack
hope you will find way home yay
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 5:58 AM UTC
She feeds on Fear.
Feeds on past insults and old rotten words.
Feeds on what ifs?
and “what can I get away with?”
Oh, she’s a clever one.
She can be a dragon and a terror,
but more often than not,
she’ll make herself real small,
like a tiny kitten.
Nibble away at all that is Good
without me noticing.
[Just call them love bites.]
Meows:
*“play with me,
play with me,
I need the attention
and you aren’t doing anything
Important
right now
If you love me,
play with me.
Make me purr.
Sure I scratch
but you don’t really
want me to leave.
Make me purr.
Sure I scratch
but no one will know the
difference.”*
Get her purring
and I am no longer
myself.
She is satisfied,
temporarily.
[Always temporarily.
She’s always hungry].
And me?
Who knows what I am,
when she’s in control,
except convinced
that I love poisoned claws
digging into my soul.
I’m used to her,
I love her,
I swear.
[I’m used to her.]
The thing about
Monsters
is that they can
shape shift.
This is no Disney movie,
no horror story,
no evil step-mother
to contend with
and vanquish.
A simple battle
between Good and Evil.
Monsters are not
black and white.
It’s all a mess of colors,
you see.
-
Maybe the monsters within
are not even truly
Bad.
Only:
*afraid,
hurt,
wounded
abandoned.*
Trauma’s
last defense
against all that
accumulated Hurt.
Maybe
the monster within
can be
tamed
disarmed,
declawed.
Turned back into
a kitten again.
Tough,
playful,
protective.
But not Destructive.
Not a Terror.
Not Deadly.
-
Don’t say for sure
that there are no monsters
lurking within you.
Mine are loud.
Yours might just be
dormant.
-
[Tell me about your monsters within.]
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 6:12 PM UTC
Oh, what joy cats bring around.
With paws and meows and purrs abound.
Their petite size and cute faces
Lead us humans to give them much embraces.
GIFs and JIFs of cute animations
Will let them lay down the world's new foundations.
Long live the cats!
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
From where I stand, there is a kaleidoscopic view of the world.
My cousin always had something negative to say about my upbringings, my excessive scruples.
Life is an hourglass.
The scent of your tongue is a foul one and I cry because it reminds me of my brother.
The blood runs down my fingers, scared I run to the nearest lake.
Has anyone identified Victoria's secret?
The reindeer reign over me, because of this I know Santa is near.
The wind tells me stories of my father who lived in China until age 8 and I ponder if my love for sushi is hereditary.
The kitten meows until I give her milk. Little *****
My red moccasins are the reason I could not attend the wedding but I have no regrets.
Yet again, you enter my thoughts, and I throw you out like yesterdays trash.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 10:09 AM UTC
In the room of dusk
Waiting for the sun to dive
Into the space behind the sand hills,
Your fingers embracing the white cup of tea
In the orange blush of warm light,
You stare at me,
my eyelashes flutter
I look away " the window steamed from inside
Orchids in a glass looking at us
The twilight is coming, and fading
Your arms stretched to me -
But who stole our memories,
My brother?
Going to hang out your shirt
Your arms tremble again with longing,
Why you need me always more,
Even you know I'm forbidden?
The cat is meows outside,
Branches of the willow shivering
In the caressing wind,
You stay behind me, hugging me silently
Your voice is frozen long ago "
But who stole our memories,
My brother?
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
She comes many times
completely unexpected,
On padded paws,
Silent and stealthy.
Not a hint she is near
'till she jumps in your lap
and meows her first greeting.
Though so softly, as to not,
wake even a sleeping baby.
She is sweet beyond belief,
wants only to be loved
and give love in return.
She never insists like some
women I have known,
Rather she waits until
you're completely done eating.
Soft Hypnotic gray eyes
intense in their gaze captures,
at once your full attention,
Then gently she places her
tiny head right in your hand,
Seeking your touch of affection.
Her motor purring starts,
growing ever loud and louder.
Then she begins rhythmically,
Kneading your chest or stomach
with her front paws as she would
have done her own mommy,
But it' s not milk she seeks,
it is love from her human,
physical, emotional contentment.
She would sit all night,
in my lap if I let her,
yet she can sense when
I have had enough,
Knows when to quickly,
quietly take her leave.
Truly not many,
females like her.
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
still hangs in the night air
from holiday meals
long grilled
the only light I see
is above
the crescent moon
and a triangle of stars
boasting of Saturn
and Mars
plus the bonus planet Antares
as I stumble
yet again
through the lawn
to find those
half sunken stepping stones
on tilted soil
headed towards the back porch
where Lily cat meows
loudly for her supper
by the back door
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 9:12 PM UTC
As the cat meows and the dog barks
We see that they meet at last
Staring at each other face to face
Scared about what the other may do
The cat more scared as the dog is big
But its the cat the overcomes
And the dog that cowers in the corner by the cave.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
If you asked me the question:
“what’s the one thing you want to do before you die?”
I’d say I want to meet the cat who lives outside.
The cat that meows day and night.
The cat that keeps his face out of sight.
The one that will cause the biggest commotion
But will look with wonder and aw with the most precious notion.
The kitty that yells out that people aren't clean.
Meowing at everything but is never seen.
The one who hisses when he doesn't know I’m listening.
I can’t help but listen to the things he knew.
It’s the only thing I have the power to do.
The very few times I've seen him,
He never looks the same.
I don’t know what he looks like
I only know his name.
I wish I knew the way he appears
The way he laughs, or cries, or stressed, or in fear.
All I can do is guess from what I hear.
He talks about leaving.
So long I would be grieving.
Places too far away for me to see him.
Too far for me to do anything.
He might look at me and be grim.
But all I ask for is a chance
A chance see who that cat really is.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 9:27 PM UTC
I live with this Cat,
her name is Serenity.
She's very neurotic.
It's "meow, meow, meow"
to get out..
and "meow,meow, meow"
to get in..
It's not like she doesn't
have any problems,
I hear her meow "What
if I get mange" and
"What if I am chasing Birds
and a Crow comes along
and pecks out my innards".
She meows, "You know, it's
no thanks to you I have no front claws,
what happens if I should run into a ***** Rat".
"You just make sure my Food Dish is full
and we'll get along okay".
I live with this Cat named Serenity,
She "meows" to get out,
she "meows" to get in.
Serenity, she's very neurotic.
She stays out all day
and comes in to ****
Serenity is far from serene,
but I guess she likes to have
something over on the Dog.
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
*Little noses sniffing
Eagerly waiting for their meal
Little meows are heard
And paws tap me and my Mom's skirts*
~Marian~
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
I wonder if cats care for music
Because their meows are so emotional
I wonder if I need to listen to what you're saying
Because I hear you and the melody sounds rad
I need music
Music needs fans
I need music
It puts me in the zone
Thoughts that make sense
The air feels so dense
Swallowing air
I've never felt more intense
The feelings are driving me home
I can't believe you're from this world
Because I've always felt like an alien soul
Something tells me
Someday I'll meet you
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 8:42 AM UTC
Even when I am
Six feet under
The ground
I'll still be
thinking
About
Cats
Their
Lovely
Personalities
Their fluffiness
Purrs and meows
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 9:20 AM UTC
Across the green of the lawn, the morning sun
makes a spectacular splash, a wash of gold,
the lonely tree blissfully embracing soft fog
all night long, gets annoyed and feels cheated
as the hands of sun tickles wisps of fog, startled
she hurriedly leaves disentangling the branches.
A black cat, rudely woken up by sun's sultry pinch
still her eyes half closed, runs across the lawn,
the dark shadow of the tree fallen across her path
engulfs her, perplexed she rolls on the ground
still her eyes closed, thinks she is trapped and
something is going to happen,"I am dead" she meows,
a morning bird on a low branch, seeing this,is amused,
in mirth she tweets aloud" you fool, you fool, get up"
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
this is a fine morning and the man in the bathroom mirror smiles
though he admittedly isn't the friendliest person but honestly
he seemed genuinely glad to be awake and alive on such an Autumn day
with the birds chirping and the window near the kitchen slightly ajar
allowing safe passage to a nice chill breeze. he finds the cat up as well
meowing "Good morning!" cheerfully and innocently in its tiny cat voice
and he chuckles and meows back in the most accurate manner available.
on the kitchen table there's a mug of coffee, the newspaper rolled like a cigar,
a plate of waffles, bacon, scrambled eggs and powdered happiness which
the man gobbles wholeheartedly while reading the day's fresh headlines:
President Declares Peace on Earth, Local Man Defeats Dog - Gives Too Many Treats,
Cop Buys Medical Lemonade From Child's Lemonade Stand, World Hunger Exterminated...
permitting the felines to rule our existence was truly the best of ideas!
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
saying **** off* seems so much more
easier when you're petting cats....
they just say it for you...
there he is, Quarus,
the operatic singer nearing sunset,
200 variations of a mulling of meow,
i end up calling him Orbison Rufus,
the ginger Roy of Peckham -
he basically meows lazily like Roy
singing... as said / i.d. (id est): the umbras
or umbrellas - counting the shadows'
version of Apache's yawn: ah-woo ah-woo
ah-woo nagging the reflex...
gave them the yawn and gave them 1950s
America... Billy the Kid talking to the king of
Specs... hank marvin.... cheese grater
with those teeth... dozen cows buckling with
the herding in while the dog carved a feel
for religion in the translation of the Vatican
from coliseum into football requirements...
the movies were great in the 1950s, just after
the technicolour... petting cats was never such a thrill...
the operatic meow, onomatopoeia from echo
in a cave to knock-on-wood...
200 variations of the knock
and 12 whiskey shots downed
while playing poker... 12 cowboys
1 Milwaukee and 30 Turks... classic Tarantino...
i said the Apache yawn... i never said giving
out smoke signals...
Quarus my ginger is demanded as having laughed...
he's Roy Orbison with the meow,
pretty much lazy...
looks like a murmur when he tries singing,
pretty woman, trolling down the street,
Gucci, Chanel, and everything in the scrapheap of lobotomy,
as is Paris necessarily mentioned: chiselled
white collars... Roy knew before Elvis...
the trick came with sunglasses,
and the gluttonous slur of the half-opened mouthing
for subsequent mouthing it off...
no amount of cheese in French could ever
charter the success of the cheeses added to cheeseburgers
with the milkshakes, which were plainly Dutch
laughing cows named Novices....
quick-melts and some said:
dreadlocks of string-yellow Gouda pulled
for a hippies' worth of Chinese chugging down
a pint or two, for worth of gag and the slim mascot;
the Chinese never taught Cannes arithmetic
of the thumb through to pinky...
i don't know how they taught counting
with their complex ideograms, they never taught
arithmetic give their encoding...
they taught pure math.. they never taught the simplest
of assurances... meaning so few of them became bankers.
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
Not a sound
in th forest
Not a leaf
in the wind
On the lake
not a ripple
there's a storm
coming in
Not a deer
in the meadow
Not a hiss
not a howl
Not a breath
Not a whisper
There's a cat
on the prowl
Not a twitter
of a bird
Not a Bat
Not an Owl
Silence in the forest
There's a cat on the prowl
All is well until he brushes against my legs, looks
up at me and meows - lunch time
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC
There's one cat who meows
in the alleyway but mimics
a fowl dog who ate
larval staged meat. There's
two headless horseman
racking leaves to find their heads
that teenagers rolled
down the country hills.
there's three furry bears
in a cave testing hardness and
softness while four bats
hang backwards to avoid the light. The
five cowgirls had six cowboy hats
each exactly. They're going to run
out if they keep throwing them at
groups of seven boys. Eight dentist chairs
were rolled onto stage so the
nine musketeers,
multiplied by three,
could get ten root canals.
The doctor said he could have
given eleven more of them
but he heard twelve whimpers
of pain and gave up. There were
thirteen bounced checks and fourteen wrinkled
foreheads who were lost in eternity
for fifteen years. Sixteen world banks
filed bankruptcy to drive dollars down.
Seventeen hands were squeezed
from an angel holding glowing
red lips. eighteen hearts and
brains switched spots
anatomically leaving nineteen
grown men sprawled on the
ground like they drank twenty
or so too many.
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 10:28 PM UTC
Grandad Cat
curls his tail
and wants to tell a tale
to his GrandKits Cats
He claws them before him
and he meows a catchy tune
that he shall
tell them a tale
But little Toby
he purrs:
*No, Grand – you're such a bad story-teller
cos you only have
one tale*
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 6:37 AM UTC
This unconventional cat
still alive with some gray
another life spent to survive
nine long past and still I strive
inspired by those who came before
then relying on wits of the self
don’t leave my side lest I forget
even we seek company
allies by our differences
when compared to the masses gathered
wishing we would disappear
not gather to state we’re here
we’re all alone on this alley fence
yelling as one to the to **** the night
the others don’t understand
unless they’re a feline as well
we creators speaking to the void
only to have echoes returning back
familiar voices are then enough
to know that grace is our path
now I embrace fur and all
more cat than I could hope to be
still I strive to walk my path
speak the meows for all to hear.
© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180802.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 11:11 PM UTC
He should have been innocent at ten
Out from his mother's den
Not like a rogue cub that's bitten
His furry experiment, a kitten
How can he be so rotten
For he purchased a ball of cotton
It's paws bracing its last amen
From a malls pet store then
To hell rides, a mortal sin
He rode that bus on the chin
With a boxed ball at his arm
That little ball of fur meant no harm
Scratching the whim of the boy
His pet was making such a noise
All those rider's eyes cast on him
Red faced and on a limb
He covered the boxes vents
So no noise to him made sense
Taking the ball of furs' breath away
How can his head be in a cloud
The devil speaking loud
As the frantic meows began to stop
It's tongue flop, flop, flop
Frozen in transit, as his kitten soon lay
It's ice floating in his shallow bay
Dark was the boys discovery
A lifetime of no recovery
Remembering those pinks be crying
Trashing about and dying
That little ball of fur sitting still
Such a death, is this bitter pill
For the young boy fell off from this branch
Unforgiving of the kitten's trance
Logan Robertson
7/20/2019
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 7:20 PM UTC
They called me cute and sweet
I am confused sometimes
Am I human or a cat?
They cuddle me night and day
They pamper me like a child
My food is called SWEETHEART
My bed is with mom and dad
I am Harry, my mom's Prince,
My dad's best friend
My siblings companion.
I am super naughty,
I am the devil of the house
I make mom's heart boil
I turn her kitchen upside down
mom looks mad but she only smiles
sweet surprise..
They love the precious me still
like no other...
Mom and dad, brother and sisters
Let me tell you something today
and sorry for being brutally honest
Today as I sat by the window
I saw someone I like
It walks, it meows, it looks like me,
four legged, furry, slightly smaller, cuter
but it sounds like me...
but lovelier, yes sweeter
Please tell me, what is the life
outside this very window?
Am I allowed to say hi to my first friend
that meows?
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 12:44 PM UTC