"tomcat" poems
*As ***** as a three balled tomcat
Very *****
Very full of ****** desire*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You can fake that loud sound during ***
However, no need to fake that sound
With your first meal of the day
Oh so yummy! Oh, so hungry for that touch
So here I am as ***** as a three balled tomcat
What if everything were revealed about my whereabouts
Especially last night, was I somnambulism?
It’s time to get myself together. I was all over the place
I have to channel my energy today into something useful;
I have to stay soulful, I have to stay focused
I might be a night walker
However, If a man awakes the sleeping tigress within
He better be ready to calm its wicked, wicked ways
A woman isn’t complete without the
Amen, hallelujah, thank be to glory moments
As she reaches the maximum of her
Amazing, mind and body-blowing experience
I have to challenge them… did I lose my self-respect?
My midnight blue satin dress
Someone said that it’s a wicked, wicked tease
I know that it controls my every mood
Staying ahead of the curves, surveying the scenery
Swaying down the Avenue living dangerously
Down where the palm trees sway against the breeze
Here I am as ***** as a three balled tomcat.
but I can surely make the bad boys good for the weekend
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
A HUGE muscular tomcat
invaded our space, ate
our sweet Stripes' food,
and looked like he wanted
to tear her apart.
Rushing in to save her
from his assault, I
chased him away and
kicked him
right in the ****
as he fled my wrath.
After my momentary
satisfaction passed,
I regretted having kicked him.
As it turned out, he won.
Stripes had a beautiful litter
of his kittens, and when I
kick him in a recurring dream,
I wake to the pain as
my foot forcefully
strikes the wall.
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 2:40 PM UTC
So, what do you think about the dynasty of Babylon? Freshly cut potatoes which are deep fried can be displayed upon colorful plastic plates, which may trigger a spiritual sustenance of simplistic expectations which are immersed in Glaswegian nostalgia.
Therefore, I contemplate the goddess of the moon, as she is enthroned in Celtic tenements of astral plains.
Entrance-ways are characterised by the musky scent of the tomcat, whilst the purring sounds of diesel locomotives echo along the tracks of mischievous linearity.
So, although I acknowledge Osiris to be the Egyptian god of the dead, I am tentatively perplexed about Northern and Southern boundaries of grandparental occupation. Shake those sensual vessels of salt and vinegar. Do you know why? Because there’s nothing like it in the cosmos.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
Brushed-wet tarmac Tomcat
Coat,
Socks pulled up to the knee.
The sand went on for miles
Like pebble dash,
Ground to it’s golden *****
Decimals and
Packed tight between the
Bowed white legs of the cliffs,
Which stood with their feet
In the sea.
My Queen of Bracing Holidays,
Gemstone brooches, wet cafes.
Your face
Cut into coat of armour
Quarter colours,
Pink and white
And red and gold
Like a royal crest of sunburned summers.
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC
Even I cannot find this care anymore.
I’ve run vague and dry of all moist thought,
Brittle will scores this round,
All life is best endured no more,
I will not bend to peek at joy,
Each smile a twist, all laughter ups to snort and ugly choke,
Time strides by, a hustler, a tomcat, a victim on the run.
At last the end of dreams, such bold relief.
Not more takes or edits done,
I breathe in whole, without the worry of dismal hope,
Each expectation outed now and free to fade,
I court the hours without a scheme,
Death will pace until my shift is done,
This warm friend who sentences but can’t condemn,
Staid promise, an infinity of next for all.
Soon enough this now is gone,
Rejoice
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 9:09 AM UTC
I had just came
out of an AA meeting.
I looked to the
west, and spied a
mother cat with
a litter of kittens.
Little ***** of fluff,
running and jumping in
the tall grass,
unaware of the
danger that lurked.
A large black and white
Tomcat eased his way
up on one of
the kittens.
The tiny one arched its
back and hissed,
trying to be brave.
Male cats **** the
kittens so that
the female will go into
heat sooner,
and then he can
mate again.
He's a born killer,
living to ****
As I walked towards him,
I thought to
myself, why can't cats
be like penguins?
The father helps raise the
little ones, and they
mate for life.
Why can't nature
have morals?
He was nose to nose
with the baby, when I said,
"Go on, get out of here."
He walked slowly, and then
turned and tried to come
back toward the kitten.
I put my hand on
his side and pushed him.
I stomped my feet and he
sulked away for
the time being.
He'll be back.
It ****** me off
and made me sad.
I thought of Caligula and
Roman empires,
and felines of all breeds.
The *** drive,
human and animal,
has its brutal side.
May 17, 2021
May 17, 2021 at 9:31 AM UTC
there was a little tomcat he had a change of way
not like all the other cats this little cat was gay
he wore a bright pink suit and varnished up his claws
wearing colored lipstick all around his jaws
the other cats ignored him whenever he came near
he looked rather odd they thought it rather queer
he went to a gay bar looking for a date
hoping may be there. he would find a mate
he went on the dance floor and made a move or too
spotted by an another cat dressed up all in blue
now he had a partner no longer on his own
there were other gay cats he was not alone
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 9:10 AM UTC
In the greenery of the courtyard
Nested the Bulbul
Always in hide, but at times
A shine of the black beak
The crested headgear
Or a glowing red garland.
A flash now and then
Of the crimson tail-vent
The bird of ************
Of the rustic legends
Said old granny
The sight of the bird brings
Cyclic periods to woman
‘Bathe bathe bathe’
Babbles the bird.
Before the tomcat wakes up
From the ashy hearth
Into the nest everyday
I steal a peak.
Soft and tiny, dotted pink
Two cute eggs…
Later with slit-open eyes
Open beaks sticking out
But with no wings…
Today the nest is empty
Slaughtered by the cat
Or the wings bloomed?
The sound of ritual ‘kurava’
Announced a wonder news
The neighborhood twin girls
Have attained puberty together.
The crook tomcat
Should be exiled
In a gunny bag
Out of sight afar
Across the river.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 12:12 PM UTC
We named you Daisy
for your white fur, because
we liked to name our cats after flowers.
But you were not only a white cat;
you were "odd-eyed white",
one orange and one blue.
Everyone loved your beautiful quirkiness.
You lived as our other cats did,
tame house-cat in the day,
but free to come and go;
half-wild at night,
following your instincts,
even if they were dangerous at times.
Then, one sunny morning,
I saw you from the bedroom window,
running back home, across the road,
and that time it really was dangerous,
as a car came past, exceeding the speed limit,
because in a race between speeding car
and running cat,
in the event of a tie,
the cat loses.
I ran downstairs and found you
by the gate,
warm, unmarked,
but unmoving, unbreathing
Carrying you gently to the back garden,
I laid you on the ground,
preparing to dig your grave,
as Marmaduke, our tomcat, came by.
Not the father of any kittens,
but surrogate to all our females.
After a birth
he knew what to do.
He would visit briefly,
sniff the mother, sniff the kittens,
walk off, apparently unconcerned,
and a day or two later
return with a mouse for mother.
That’s what father cats do,
even surrogates.
Only that day there was no birth,
no kittens,
and this time
he sniffed at you,
sniffed at the hole I had started digging,
and walked off
in complete puzzlement.
This time he did not know what to do.
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 4:27 AM UTC
Click-clack clatter claws at the doormat.
Right where our ramada had roofed a small rat.
"What was that?", asked the rat.
Which in fact, twas our cat.
Nearing fast to the rat
Who has asked, "What was that?"
Twas a blur, and a crash,
Then the black flash did slash,
But fell flat.
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 3:17 AM UTC
He is a lean mean reality
Scuffed, but smiling, jaded, but idealistic.
You took him by surprise,
He loves that,
The mischievous tomcat,
with his blessed openmindedness,
First amendment tattooed skin.
The measure of love is beyond any ruler,
Such truths he reveals before him.
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 8:56 AM UTC
Little Jazz on my birthday
Kings Crown Radio
special every year
Schaap lays down
the JATP grooves
All the tracks of this
Steeltown cat
A perennial
birthday bash
Takes me Uptown
With Roy and Anita
Strolling arm and arm
Singing bout a city
Checkin out the sights
Knockin me a kiss
On the fat lobe lips
Of my eager ear
Ole Little Jazz
Hittin the high note
Blowin somethin cool
Playing with the great cats
He’s one himself
A lion of the bandstand
You can hear a him growl
When he blows that horn
Or a prissy ***** purr
Fine and mellow
on a bouncy ballad
Or check a lonely tomcat
moanin the blues
As he swings on down
some dark alley in Chicago
Yea, he’s one cool cat
this Eldridge dude
One cool Little Jazz cat
Paramus
1/30/99
jbm
Music Selection:
Roy Eldridge, Sunday
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 8:20 AM UTC
But no matter how many books, or paragraphs
Sentences, words & letters I write to you
It never seems it is enough I do
Let me walk you through my life & show you one thing
The main reason I tend to excuse myself,
And leave your head wandering.
The first incidences happened when I was merely 8
But you see it didn't stop there,
It's only been 2 years since I've escaped.
Tear-stained cheeks & strange men
Now I'm sure you understand
But you can be my tomcat
If I can be your little kitty
Let's paint the world
Touch the sky
Find our souls
& run the city
We'll wake up every morning
Just before father sun finds his way about
Through sleep, I'll whisper gently across the pillow
*"it's too early
to wake up
to start figuring this out."*
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
The wind's blustery paw mauled the night
rattling slack shutters and
shuddering corrugated roofs
like small change.
Sodden leaves congregated
in walled corner pockets,
praying for a last crack at dryness
and the playful kick and crunch of kids' feet.
Stray tomcat slunk
beneath
an s.u.v.
cowering at the naked trees
whose limbs fumbled drunkenly.
Not quite Munch's infinite scream,
but the closest thing I want to see
this night.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
Another old tomcat is sinking
all over him is the scar of weather
and I know it’s about time
death brings him a breather.
He was never my pet
but mingled with them
to live on their crumbs’ diet
and be loved
without a name.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
I used to be a madman
Zipping through the silent skies
At the brink of dawn
When the blue barely got eaten by the mango sun
I used to feed on thrill
I used to charge into "danger zone"
Our Tomcat cutting through dense ether
I used to rule the aerosphere, but not alone
You were always behind my back
Always by my side
Always, my best friend, my brother
I miss you my wing man
I wish you were here
To see how we've finally melted
The icy cold heart of a man
His vengeance has now been
Taken over by much respect
We teamed up to strike down
Four MiGs, when called
To tackle crisis situation
And while I escaped what you did not
I'm sorry for you, for my loss
You could have been here
It could have been us
Lighting up the air
With our jet wash
Rev up, throttle, dodge, maneuver
Target, lock, missile, eject
A chase in our F-14 will never be the same
Not again, not without you
Between you and I, my friend
I was the bad example
So I'll return to school
To indoctrinate more like you
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 4:12 PM UTC
Tomcat has his breakfast
of Mice Krispies
and reads his mewspapers
when Molly comes out with a snarl
in her purr-ple pajamas
she claws him all over
there’s such a caterwauling
and Tomcat emerges bewildered:
What? Why?
She’s upset that all night
her hubby Tomcat
called out for Cat Woman in his sleep
*And what do I do with Tomcat
after this Claw Enforcement?* thinks Molly
Oh, just hiss and make up
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 8:22 AM UTC
A major ruckus is
taking place outside.
I hear a hawk squawking,
it's piercing the morning light.
Blue Jays are circling around screaming,
the squirrels are chirping like crazy
& the neighbor's dog is
barking up a storm!
O glory be,
good gracious,
I can see the reason
for all the commotion!
It's really no big deal....
just a tomcat,
crossing the empty-field,
incognito!
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 7:38 AM UTC
Curiosity perhaps killed many a cat
For a cat it is an inquisitive brat
It could rummage through anything even your ******* trash
Tabby may spring on dinner table and cutlery may crash
Famous might be a cat for those famed nine lives
but not much help is that if in every danger it dives!
Its feline curiosity to crash-land it in trouble
for it tends to explore every kind of rubble.
The catty **** likes a fight and a wild-goose-chase.
Forever looking forward to amuse and amaze?
In a cat basket he's likely to be struck with ennui
Perhaps his caretaker thought only of his fengshui?
His meowing and hissing resonates in the valley
as he tussles with many rival cats in the alley
Mr. Tom cat thinks most females are saucy
but with them he acts in a way quite bossy
Wild and rough, with macho feral pride
I watch you tease and taunt in your typical stride.
No way is he kitty soft paws
Mr. Tomcat sure has the sharpest claws.
Tomcat ate the fishy leftover pudding & fish pie
and kissed the feline females and made them cry.
But my fav is my own cutie darling so soft
even if she may raid the larder and loft that's aloft .
©
May 2, 2023
May 2, 2023 at 12:43 PM UTC
Dad I loved you.
Your the only father I knew.
It should have been just us two.
Our memories are so few.
You showed me I could trust a tomcat or a puppy.
To pet him & make a buddy.
I still can't cook.
To find the right food.
Caravores are selfish, sick, & rude.
My vegan species is divided.
Separate dwellings unspecified are hided.
Recipes unconfided.
What is for lunch?
Besides rootbeer, cola, & fruit punch?
Is there no vegan chefs left?
Not enough vegan restaurants here.
Nothing close by or near.
To become extinct is something I fear.
Too many taverns with beer.
Vegan establishments this town & city needs to build.
In malls & shopping centers to be filled.
Vegans don't know where to look.
I want to write & publish a poetry book.
"Innocence Unattended" is my best work.
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
The old ****** slowly digs holes
plowing with precision
he places acorns
under peony bushes
behind the old
windmill,
each
day he wearily climbs
the den tree
curling into
his nest
as the neighborhood
tomcat watches.
Nov 8, 2016
Nov 8, 2016 at 8:19 AM UTC
Stray cats dreaming of leftover nibbles
gather when I feed the cats I call my pets.
Wistfully they look at the chewing jaws
that would pick clean the fish from rice
and maybe leave at most a half morsel.
The tomcat I wrote about some while ago
has not since been seen
breathing only as a lingering ache uncomfortably undefined.
But I know from the crop of the present visitors
some I would sniff in the next mango laden summer
with opaque diamonds in my eyes.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
I feel so at home
in the world, with the tomcat --
curled up on my bed.
Jul 26, 2023
Jul 26, 2023 at 3:42 AM UTC
All the hard
times prepared me
for this.
The hopeless
times, black sun
sadness.
The long seasons of
madness.
Starving, like a
winter tomcat.
The hospital stays.
Jails and psych wards.
The fist fights under
bridges.
Midnight swims, drunk in
the Iowa River,
not drowned, only out
of spite.
All of this, and
much more got
me ready for this.
I’m sitting up in bed.
It’s 5:00 AM.
My three cats chase
each other, like
lovers in spring.
I’ve been sober
for almost two years.
I even quit smoking
cigarettes.
I’m writing regularly,
and publishing much
of it.
It’s mostly well received
worldwide.
I’m sipping a hot cup
of coffee.
It’s from Sumatra and has
notes of herbs and earth.
I look at the pictures of
Van Gogh and
Hemingway above my
antique maple desk,
as I listen to Mozart.
A writer needs four walls.
I have so much more,
children
wisdom
cats
and gratitude, the most
important thing I
found.
Nov 15, 2024
Nov 15, 2024 at 4:58 PM UTC
She was fluffy like a cotton ball, as cute as a summer salad
but she had a vicious bark. It rang out loud across the street
and got your teeth on edge, all the time.
My cat played innocent. She was cute too.
Somehow she had learned to walk along the fence
uncaring little beauty
got this shrieking, frisky little pom
jumping up and down and snarling
at poor little Tiggy. My innocent Tiggy.
There was nothing I could do
to train Tiggy to behave.
She hated dog biscuits, hated being disturbed
while she steadily walked along the fence
and never came home until she did the same trick
a few time each evening.
That's what you call a catwalk.
Brave, majestic, brutal! Sexy Tiggy.
The day I went over to complain to the neighbour
about the dog barking. She looked at me long and hard.
"It was your cat that was barking"
I scratched my head and walked home defeated.
Lesson number 1: Never argue with a womans logic!
PomCat, TomCat or RomCat. They always win.
Author Notes
www.amazon.com/Chrysanthemum-Trilogy-Part-Transition ISBN 9781493137848
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC