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"yowls" poems
for leather accrues The miracle of the streets The scents & smogs & pollens of existence Shiny blackness so totally naked she was Totally un-hung-up We looked around lights now on Top see our fellow travellers ~~~ I am troubled Immeasurably By your eyes I am struck By the feather of your soft Reply The sound of glass Speaks quick Disdain And conceals What your eyes fight To explain ~~~ She looked so sad in sleep Like a friendly hand just out of reach A candle stranded on a beach While the sun sinks low an H-bomb in reverse ~~~ Everything human is leaving her face Soon she will disappear into the calm vegetable morass Stay! My Wild Love! ~~~ I get my best ideas when the telephone rings & rings. It’s no fun To feel like a fool-when your baby’s gone. A new ax to my head: Possession. I create my own sword of Damascus. I’ve done nothing w/time. A little tot prancing the boards playing w/Revolution. When out there the World awaits & abounds w/heavy gangs of murderers & real madmen. Hanging from windows as if to say: I’m bold- do you love me? Just for tonight. A One Night Stand. A dog howls & whines at the glass sliding door (why can’t I be in there?) A cat yowls. A car engine revs & races against the grain- dry rasping carbon protest. I put the book down- & begin my own book. Love for the fat girl. When will SHE get here? ~~~ In the gloom In the shady living room where we lived & died & laughed & cried & the pride of our relationship took hold that summer What a trip To hold your hand & tell the cops you’re not 16 no runaway The wino left a little in the old blue desert bottle Cattle skulls the cliche of rats who skim the trees in search of fat Hip children invade the grounds & sleep in the wet grass ’til the dogs rush out I’m going South!
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The American Night
for leather accrues The miracle of the streets The scents & smogs & pollens of existence Shiny blackness so totally naked she was Totally un-hung-up We looked around lights now on Top see our fellow travellers ~~~ I am troubled Immeasurably By your eyes I am struck By the feather of your soft Reply The sound of glass Speaks quick Disdain And conceals What your eyes fight To explain ~~~ She looked so sad in sleep Like a friendly hand just out of reach A candle stranded on a beach While the sun sinks low an H-bomb in reverse ~~~ Everything human is leaving her face Soon she will disappear into the calm vegetable morass Stay! My Wild Love! ~~~ I get my best ideas when the telephone rings & rings. It’s no fun To feel like a fool-when your baby’s gone. A new ax to my head: Possession. I create my own sword of Damascus. I’ve done nothing w/time. A little tot prancing the boards playing w/Revolution. When out there the World awaits & abounds w/heavy gangs of murderers & real madmen. Hanging from windows as if to say: I’m bold- do you love me? Just for tonight. A One Night Stand. A dog howls & whines at the glass sliding door (why can’t I be in there?) A cat yowls. A car engine revs & races against the grain- dry rasping carbon protest. I put the book down- & begin my own book. Love for the fat girl. When will SHE get here? ~~~ In the gloom In the shady living room where we lived & died & laughed & cried & the pride of our relationship took hold that summer What a trip To hold your hand & tell the cops you’re not 16 no runaway The wino left a little in the old blue desert bottle Cattle skulls the cliche of rats who skim the trees in search of fat Hip children invade the grounds & sleep in the wet grass ’til the dogs rush out I’m going South!
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86
I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown Who worked in a circus that came through town. His shoes were too big and his hat was too small, But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all. He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes, He had a green dog and a thousand balloons. He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall, But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all. And every time he did a trick, Everyone felt a little sick. And every time he told a joke, Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke. And every time he lost a shoe, Everyone looked awfully blue. And every time he stood on his head, Everyone screamed, "Go back to bed!" And every time he made a leap, Everybody fell asleep. And every time he ate his tie, Everyone began to cry. And Cloony could not make any money Simply because he was not funny. One day he said, "I'll tell this town How it feels to be an unfunny clown." And he told them all why he looked so sad, And he told them all why he felt so bad. He told of Pain and Rain and Cold, He told of Darkness in his soul, And after he finished his tale of woe, Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no, They laughed until they shook the trees With "Hah-Hah-Hahs" and "Hee-Hee-Hees." They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks, They laughed all day, they laughed all week, They laughed until they had a fit, They laughed until their jackets split. The laughter spread for miles around To every city, every town, Over mountains, 'cross the sea, From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee. And soon the whole world rang with laughter, Lasting till forever after, While Cloony stood in the circus tent, With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent. And he said,"THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT - I'M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT." And while the world laughed outside. Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.
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Cloony The Clown
I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown Who worked in a circus that came through town. His shoes were too big and his hat was too small, But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all. He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes, He had a green dog and a thousand balloons. He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall, But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all. And every time he did a trick, Everyone felt a little sick. And every time he told a joke, Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke. And every time he lost a shoe, Everyone looked awfully blue. And every time he stood on his head, Everyone screamed, "Go back to bed!" And every time he made a leap, Everybody fell asleep. And every time he ate his tie, Everyone began to cry. And Cloony could not make any money Simply because he was not funny. One day he said, "I'll tell this town How it feels to be an unfunny clown." And he told them all why he looked so sad, And he told them all why he felt so bad. He told of Pain and Rain and Cold, He told of Darkness in his soul, And after he finished his tale of woe, Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no, They laughed until they shook the trees With "Hah-Hah-Hahs" and "Hee-Hee-Hees." They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks, They laughed all day, they laughed all week, They laughed until they had a fit, They laughed until their jackets split. The laughter spread for miles around To every city, every town, Over mountains, 'cross the sea, From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee. And soon the whole world rang with laughter, Lasting till forever after, While Cloony stood in the circus tent, With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent. And he said,"THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT - I'M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT." And while the world laughed outside. Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.
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48
"And the older I get, the more I'm sure That more by itself never was a cure Some days I've got nothing to show for except Walking the dog and walking the floor" Mary Chapin Carpenter <><><> *it's been twenty years plus who can remember exact, the last time I had a full-time four-legged companion to share my bed, greet my head with wagging tail, and joy incessantly, overflowing and drowning me with face lickings and hugs of a topsy turvy twisty body, and smiles and curdling yowls of deep throated cries of obvious joy and the first thing I'll do when the nectar of next life's staging begins to commence will be me to get such a dog as heretofore I remember as an unadulterated purest joy, I'll still walk the floor, long walks, yup, outdoors, early morn, and late afternoon day settling setting endings, dog and me, freshly bathed, settling in to watch some British crime and ****** mysteries sleuthed and solved by folks I'll never meet, but whose company enjoyed over the distance of an atlantic sea and about seven feet, and maybe dog  curls up next to me, by my pillowed head, or between my happy to snuggle legs, don't matter much, dog & me, will discuss an alternating rotation satisfying our mutuality, and even when I  still walk the floor, which be a task for evermore, he can walk beside me if he chooses, cause choice is what's it all about* with a true companion nml
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Aug 18, 2025
Aug 18, 2025 at 5:19 PM UTC
A Man and No Dog
In that age of aged seasons predating our own's four-square rhyme, a reasonable jape was hatched beaked but hairy to a guilt-free Hen whose humors ran with jaw-slackening creatures, foul and not at all bird-like. Soon after its mixed-up cracking, two prattle-prone Wrens hopped to spread rumors of an un-chickity chick and the ungodly origins of fatherless yowls. Their tittered jeers found welcome ears, and Mother Hen preened her babe chased by merciless guffaws. This Hen was not one to lay down meekly, and a never stony tongue rolled out its antidote myth to a pair of gabby Gulls: "My child may look not-much, but he's divine engendered and miraculous born. Sure he's messy, ah, but you'll see he'll grow to be, much-much-more than any feathery tykes your like did bear." She clucked it so seriously, who were they to doubt her? The plumed sniggering ceased. But before another grateful day could dawn in a hallelujah glare of right angles, out pecking up a snack, Mother made eye contact with an unfortunate Fate brandishing his lucky-gripped ax. What of her wonder-why, joke of a boy? Left alone at straw-pocket home, waiting for his Hen to return, he starved then decayed to hollow bones, and was never thought of again.
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Apr 1, 2010
Apr 1, 2010 at 12:43 PM UTC
An April Fool Ends Badly
There's this cat that moans and moans like it's going to hell. It starts up crying around 4 a.m., this ugly, pronounced violent and deeply intonated yowl. It wakes me and Heather up, it just comes into my dreams and pulls me so hard that I stumble back into this world against this wall of sound so ugly that I'm tip-toeing insanity. I want go out there and strangle the ******* thing, I want to find it where it yowls and silence it. heather says I'm the meanest person in the world for wanting to strangle an animal to peices. But the thing I hate is when an animal lets the whole world know that it's dying, it won't let anybody get any sleep until everybody in the vicinity is standing around it in pjs, boxers, doo rags, scarves slippers, gowns, that pink thing Heather got from Walmart watching the light of life being reduced until this dying thing begins burning precious oxygen, oxygen that we all need, and it just becomes a waste and a nuisance.
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Apr 16, 2012
Apr 16, 2012 at 11:46 AM UTC
On Poets Talking about Lost Love, Myself Included.
Alley ways and alley cats all allies in the darkest nights. Unsleeping children call to their mother's closest hand. The alley cats are chorusing, looking for a lover. Their kittens come their kittens go, in and out their pussycat minds. The infant in the cradle cries out for mother's love. A life long attachment borne. Forever days and never nights, the lights go out the queen cat cries. Another litter of kittens wanted so that queen cat yowls. The husband laying in his bed, gets angry as he lays his head, calling cats and screaming kids, prevent the closing of his lids. The child calls out as only he can, mother moved to sort him out, as only mother can. (C) LIVVI
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 7:02 AM UTC
COURTING THE NIGHT ZONE
It’s beautiful the way they dance Swaying with cheeks brushing together A gentle caress here and there. It’s calming, really. Then they rally against the other, Batting away, like drunken batterers. Then the biting, the clawing The yowls. Eventually you get tired of Watching them spat. But what I wouldn’t give to see a video Or still shots of what those little monsters Do when no one is watching. When you finally brave the living room, They’re passed out, cuddled around each other Purring in their sleep, As if dreaming of pleasures We didn’t get to witness. My cats … are lesbians.
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Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 3:39 PM UTC
Pigeons like Rivers
Listen. Stop not listening. I’ve been tapped. Sap bleeds. It stings where sweetness lives. Give me your ears. I’ll torch ‘em to caramel. I don’t need your lips, your yowls, your static. But taste. Just taste my syrup. Your screech gnaws at the stem of my melody. Eat the fruit. Chew the pit.
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May 5, 2025
May 5, 2025 at 9:29 PM UTC
Chew The Pit
When the world ends and the skies clash, When the tide grows and the fires crash, I promise, I won't tremble. Till the last hour I will stand strong, Till the last breath defend right from wrong. Till the dawn, I won't stumble. When you die young, when your eyes close, When your hand slips and your heart slows, I promise I will not cry. I'll take it all, I will ask no whys Live through every fall Live through every try But here, I will not die. ... If you were there, to watch me burn, Spilling metal heart in broken yearn, You would not turn away. But as it is, I stand alone, The hands are cold, the bow is drawn, And for the end I pray. If you were here, to watch me die, (please, stay close...) I could have said the last goodbye. (i wanna see you just once again) But now, my hopes are naught. We get no answers while we live. Life teaches us to just believe. Just be, no matter what. (are you there?) ... so, when  all's gone, and the wind howls, when the dead rise and the earth yowls –
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Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 12:27 PM UTC
no matter what
3:39 in the a.m. bats call, cat yowls, dogs bark, partner, snorts, snores, ... . farts...... grandma shuffles to toilet.... .... flushes. baby whimpers...... ..... or was that me, a glass of warm milk to.......................helpmesleep a dribble.... of scotch to help .....me sleep a mix of both to help me cope no just breath partner, snorts snores farts ...............must make...... Drs appt for him. sleep that knits the ravelled sleeve? not tonight for me I do believe. 4.19 in the a.m. To thelazyboy I go to doze..... perchance .... 40winks more 80winks before dayshift specialbeautifulcrazy .... ..... dayshift begins.. DOUBLE SHOT LATTE . PLEASE. . ...already it is a long day...
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May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 2:55 PM UTC
insomniac antipodean nightime rambling
Lost fur flies through the air Off the backs of black cats There innocents yowls echoing with sorrow and pain The traumatized cats have been dumped into the streets Why? Is there a reason? YES, It’s their fur. After hundreds of years, people are still scared of the black cats. For reasons of magic, For reasons of evil, For reasons I don't understand because they are normal. It doesn’t matter the color of their fur Cats should all be equal because they are good. Cats shouldn’t be like humans Who has their segregation? They make colored people feel bad because of past descriptions. I don't understand why people just can’t move on? Why don't they see that all humans are equal? No life matters more. People should learn to see and understand that instead of making them fall to their knees and have tears dripping off the floor. Humans can scream Humans can yell. They make signs and protest until the segregation stops. But imagine how black cats feel. They experience the same brutality but they can’t DO ANYTHING Because they are cats. They can’t make signs, they can’t protest. All they can do is endure the pain or avoid it. They feel the same thing that the colored people feel. They are hurt and abused by people who don't care about their life Humans are cruel and should value the lives of black cats.
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Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
Black Cats
It’s always in a second but every time I keep track of a second it yowls in whine It’s always in a minute but how long do I need to keep counting for a minute to pass? It’s always in a year but the excuses that float around you remain timeless It’s always someday with enough strength in your words (granted it’s not much) to make me believe you every Time.
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Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 10:09 PM UTC
maybe next year will be the present I’ve been waiting for
The yowls of stray cats are lonesome and the rush of cars out on the road remind me of a far-off sea. Cool night air comes through the screen of my window and freezes the tear-tracks lining my cheeks. When you have an over-abundance of feelings, even the mournful song of a filthy stray cat can make you cry.
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Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
ramblings
Will you give me some      puddy Tat? Make me mark my territory *******     as I love to hear your meowing, purring so, I hiss away all competition, display, both my pleasure and anger      flicking my tail tip deposit my pheromones with my cheeks our yowls together a treasure resolving      throughout the neighborhood under a full moon backlight, Your soft neck in my teeth awaking the witches and innocence gone      with vocalizations: starting low pitched rising coming back down. We always land on our feet. We may be feral, wild prodigiously mate          I done let go of your neck, you retract your claws, we go our ways, high from the catnip(ing) nap then. The queen struts away. I tom the night , a stray, puppy cat.
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Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 2:54 PM UTC
I got your puppy cat:
She yowls again from a distant room. Her cry taking on different sounds Depending the time of day Sometime scolding then mournful She is at once incessantly loud Then alarmingly quiet in her own way It used to annoy me This constant complaint aging cat angst and regret Who for years was seductive and sleek Now stubbornly hangs and howls all day Crouched on basement stairs protesting the bleak prospect of advanced being just a pain in the *** pet.
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Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 3:49 PM UTC
The Cat
Up, down, round and round With sweet smiles and crescent eyes Heads swaying, arms waving It's what they'd call a good time We're just trying to have fun Up, down, round and round Careless footsteps and delightful shrieks Muscles tensing than relax It's loud and proud We don't care what they think Up, down, round and round Hair whipping frantically Fists pounding excitedly It's alright as long as they're entertained We don't need a reason Up, down, round and round Tears gliding down a broken face Rough hands pull up, push down, then kick around Scrunched up minute body accented by shallow breaths and muffled yowls Up, down, round and round It might be a little cruel But they all say life's unfair We're just trying to have fun
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Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 6:17 PM UTC
Stray Cats
The moon roars, and the wolves howl. Marking the start of their midnight prowl. The moon shines, and the ocean dances, Rhythmically. Deep in their moonlit trance. The moon fades, revealing all things foul. The sun brands earth with it's fire scowl, In hell, we wait for night's shadowed cowl. Relieving our tragic circumstance, The moon roars. At night you hear the animal's yowls, Red eyes and drool dripping from jowls. Creeping, waiting for the perfect chance, When you are caught- trapped in their glance, The moon roars. -SLuR
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Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 1:03 AM UTC
The moon roars.
At first I did love you, your actions so queer Your tail had been chopped and same with your ear It was love at first bite, and with me you belonged But now you won't stop, and we don't get along Your constant meowing, your yowls hurt my head Why don't you go take a cat nap instead? You **** up my work, please leave alone Or soon enough it will be you that is thrown.
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May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 4:03 PM UTC
Black Blob
god it's so cold heart impoverished by grief beggar at this feast toes like ice head full of mice running the race of larger bretheren while chattering glory hallelujah my joint cry fowl my heart yowls at an indifferent moon salt water slurry cascades down my cheeks first day of the week already i have wandered too, too far off the track down the valley of bleak beaten down, weary blue and black cold weather blues blacking my brain like foul smelling soot from a fire with no heat need to find warmth for my heart to beat need to switch songs not rinse lather and repeat spare a kindness, maybe a smile my mendicant heart so needs a boon... god it's so cold alone in this room filled with others all just the same all are players in this gam of life and loss bereft....be it's name
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Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 9:30 AM UTC
game night....
the dogs bark you tell me to silence them the birds sing you tell me to silence them the wind yowls you tell me to silence it the earth cries you tell me to silence it
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Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 4:03 AM UTC
s i l e n c e
I wake still and far too often with the all-too-slowly but oh so evanescently fading memory of her voice. Ever since that odious event, that heinous malevolent and deafeningly persistent drumming in my head that disturbs my sleep distracts my thoughts and haunts the daymares of my diminishing life. The blaring, blasting bluster, the eruption of molten viscous sound that barks, yaps, yelps and yowls, that sounds, resounds and reverberates. How can I escape the cacophany that threatens to enmesh me? How can I return to the tranquillity of a serene silence?
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Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 4:55 AM UTC
Caterwauling