"wildcats" poems
I was shacked with a
24 year old girl from
New York City for
two weeks- about
the time of the garbage
strike out there, and
one night my 34 year
old woman arrived and
she said, "I want to see
my rival." she did
and then she said, "o,
you're a cute little thing!"
next I knew there was a
screech of wildcats-
such screaming and scratch-
ing, wounded animal moans,
blood and **** . .
I was drunk and in my
shorts. I tried to
seperate them and fell,
wrenched my knee. then
they were through the screen
door and down the walk
and out into the street.
squadcars full of cops
arrived. a police heli-
coptor circled overhead.
I stood in the bathroom
and grinned in the mirror.
it's not often at the age
of 55 that such splendid
things occur.
better than the Watts
riots.
the 34 year old
came back in. she had
****** all over her-
self and her clothing
was torn and she was
followed by 2 cops who
wanted to know why.
pulling up my shorts
I tried to explain.
9.4k
We haven’t spoken like we did,
Words feel like discarded currency;
Useless now, and inconsequential in hindsight.
Query into the why,
I respond with what,
Like a dam of unspokeness has burst,
And words flow past;
Powerful, but inevitably more destructive than I hoped,
Pushing away the life preserver I am offered,
I can do it alone, because that’s what it will come down to,
Dismissive of pessimism, you make claims of happy endings, so I refute:
“Babe, we’re fighting a cold war,
No one can win when there’s everything to lose.
Lines are drawn, allegiance implicit.
Unspoken resentment.
Vocal frustration.
A couple’s quarrel that never was,
Like Frankenstein’s monster,
The rearranged parts of our whole,
Pieces of fiction,
Light folly with cruel consequences,
Denial sets in,
My road to hell will always be paved with your best intentions.”
I will not hear, I will not see.
Willful disability,
Crippled with envy.
I am a monster with emeralds in her eyes,
Seeing the universe through glass tinted green instead of rose,
I am the monster who is thin and jagged,
Unable to produce my own warmth,
Cutting everyone near.
I am the monster who plays house,
The monster who wants it to be home,
The vicious beast with a place to rest its head,
It’s easy to be alone, but somehow less satisfying.
"My road to hell will always be paved with your best intentions.”
Our destruction is mutually assured,
No move is left unanalysed,
Hyperawareness.
Things we side aside before are the objects of argument;
Proxy wars.
I am a giraffe racing a gazelle,
Long strides mean nothing;
Beauty is the crowd favourite,
Tripping over my own limbs,
Tendons severed by chasing wildcats,
Falling, devoured, as beauty reaches the finish line.
Détente.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 7:42 PM UTC
7:30PM, October 9, 2015, 65*F, 10mph breeze, 5% humidity (somehow 10% where I was sitting), 50.0001% chance of rain, dark, cold, late, loud...I think that's enough. Alright! Spoiler alert, Birkston High won the game. If you simply have ears you've known that for a while (many of us who were at the game don't). All the people in Grenfolkshire were there, so there were some empty bleachers, but the Student section was full and lively, and did I say loud, because LOUD....! My ears were ringing (at a B8 note, for the musically overcurious people) for three days straight. I think it was a healthcare tactic, dare I say it. All those figurehead townspeople were there as well, like Mayor Arnofold Plattersbury with his orange jumpsuit, waving a pompom in the air like he just didn't care. Really, he didn't-I got whacked in the head with it eleven times. Recently, after taking a recent poll on the recent event, it was found that only about 35% of people really knew what happened, a number that has declined, recently. This very well is contributed to 1.) most of the people are there for the free food and don't exactly major in football 2.) teenagers are highly social creatures 3.) a bunch of hands in the air and six foot tall mammoths standing on the bleachers will tend to block the view of the people who are five foot small. The freshmen had a real problem on their heads. Nevertheless, the Wildcats found themselves with the bell for another year, whether they knew it or not. The Panthers found themselves nose-in-the-dirt, tail-dragging, while we found ourselves filing out like a herd of wild penguins onto the field.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
when the demonic wildcats
go on a feeding frenzy
at the very center of my being
while I sleep, and, yet, have
been kindled fully aware,
I wait for the attack to intensify
because, at the very crescendo
of their out of control gnawing,
it is then that the voice of my guiding spirit
comes to the rescue: There is only one God,
is repeated, over and over
and from whichever stygian forest fire
they were sent, to attempt to possess me,
back there they always quickly fade
--
..Monday, Jan. 7, 2013..(C)2013 Spiros Zafiris
..NOTE: this poem is of similar theme as my
poem 'Another Demonic Episode', 2002/2010 versions
~~
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC
You’re like Shia Lebeouf
you make my dreams come true
I could buy the whole world if I had a small loan of a million dollars
every time I thought about you
Heart eyes ************
Who is she?
You’re all of my business
So what to do with all this tea?
Such romance much feels
You stole my heart when I put it up for grabs
wow
You make my head spin like Mr. Krabs
4/20 blaze it
It’s Easter you praise it
Cows they graze it
The world, you never cease to amaze it
You make me happier than women eating salads in stock photos
Like birdie sanders you make my heart feel the bern
The bread sticks will stay on the table
I don’t want to leave immediately with the way you make my heart yearn
you’re always on my team, WHAT TEAM? WILDCATS!
Together we’re pretty lit
You say “I can fix that”
So please. Just do it.
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 3:21 PM UTC
The noise beyond the roaring city bustle
The cars
Harsh blaring horns
Frogs croaking in a pond
The whippoorwill its sad call
Solitary
Quite forlorn
Crickets talking in a secret rhythmic language
Bats fluttering eyes shining
Left to right
Snakes wiggle across cold ground
Wildcats scream calling
Into a eerie starlight sky
Silver speckled fish leap out of the water
Splashing
Continuous ripples
For the winged bug in flight
Armadillos root for their food
Having sufficient but limited sight
The owl swoops into predatory dive
In its sharp claws his meal clutched tight
These are creatures of the darkness
The unique musical sounds of the night
This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)( Tammy M Darby
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 8:19 PM UTC
"Two dead fieldmice, rigid as boards,
"Two suppurating corpses of foot-and-mouth sheep,
"Two fat vultures, their gobs choked with putrid carrion,
"Two flea-infested, plague-ridden rats,
"Two rabid wolves, drooling jowls dripping with lethal froth,
"Two cancerous wildcats, eyes shrieking out in agony,
"Two squashed pet dogs, breed unknown,
"Two mangy, skinny, louse-covered buffalo,
"Two shit-sodden pigs rotten with unspeakable internal disorders...."
The list seemed endless as each page revealed a fresh useless horror.
Noah turned to his supplier, the swarthy Ike, and said:
"Vot for you should bring me this load of dreck already, you putz?
******* like this I don't vant for my Ark, yet!
"Better quality I can get from Rueben Rosenberg any day, already"
"Rueben's shut on Saturdays, my dear" said Ikey,
Looking a bit uncomfortable and sweating under his skullcap.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
Scattered thoughts
Escape the pen
Of reason.
All along a
Sinuous trail
Is laid,
Snail slimed,
Easily followed
Yet utterly devoid
Of meaning.
One day
Focus
Shall gimlet point
To the core
Of snail shell,
Fractal,
Shall return
Wildcats to the
Source-
To the reason
For thinking-
For...
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 2:15 AM UTC
The wind and wild hounds of hell
Howl in unison
Over a desolate landscape.
Only a handful of us
Remain
Survivors of a cataclysm
That almost wiped out
The whole human race.
Now grand lady nature is taking back
Everything she ever lost
Or was robbed of.
Ivy, vines and other creepers
Clamber over the crumbling concrete castles
That once were our homes.
Roads crack asunder:
Cleaving city ravines where subways
Have collapsed –
New rivers for new times.
Angkor Wat has nothing on this:
City after city
Lost in tangled jungle.
Animal pets run wild,
Mating with wolves and wildcats
And God knows what,
To add to their strength.
Where nuclear power plants exploded
Unattended by humankind,
All is winter desolation,
Yet even there Nature is fighting back,
Reclaiming her grounds
Inch by inch.
Take a closer look at all these lands:
Nature is now flourishing:
Free of pollution
Carbon emissions
And Global Warming
Caused by “Man”.
The world has lost its top predator
And destroyer.
Meerkats and monkeys are the brightest now
Or maybe dolphins.
Dogs and cats are quite smart too.
But all in all
The world is so much better:
A vernal Paradise
For all
Except Humanity.
Paul Butters
© PB 21\12\2020. For Norman Stevens.
Dec 21, 2020
Dec 21, 2020 at 8:52 AM UTC
Beneath the Coral Sea, located nearly two miles down,
A submersible was sent to search, and the Lexington was found.
The ship known as “the Lady Lex” had been rent by shot and shell.
For four long days she stayed in the fight until the final bell.
Two hundred and sixteen of her crew went down with her all told.
Internal fires burned white hot and ran out of control.
Scattered about the mighty Lex, her wildcats by the score,
these fighters, built by Grumman, have seen the last of war.
Men Die, Steel rusts, and memories fade of battles gone before.
Her struggle becomes legend and she enters into lore.
It is a watery grave she found beneath the Coral Sea.
But her brave crew and pilots made her mark in history.
The Japanese had been repulsed from fair New Guinea’s shore.
Within a month Midway would mark the turning point of war.
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 7:53 AM UTC
*Could someone please reach up an unscrew the moon
Hush the curs and the coyotes , the 'werewolves' and the
loons .. Blackout the neighbors , the katydids and wildcats , the rabble and the riffraff
Will you please hide the bulb and let a poor man nap* ...
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 10:45 PM UTC