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Plain Cat

i do not have the mood
for tautologies
and dialectics
and metaphors

so a cat is just a
cat and the printer
is just another printer
and the bloody ink
is just the plain
bloody ink on those
literal floors

but i like your
idea of the cat calling
for a cat's nap ang
perhaps a little pat
on her back

cats too have
birthdays and
metaphors may
convert them
to wives and
concubines

cats and moons
struck and grinning.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

7 Cats of the Cobblestone

7 cats came calling.
7 cats they be.

7 cats came calling
for
a
spot
of
tea.

7 cups
7 saucers
berries
brie
and
clotted cream.

A light fare for 7 cats
7 cats they be.

7 cats
7 names
introduced to us.

One was black and white
the other calico.

Two tabbies sat at the hearth
three more we will get to know.

Lagging behind
we did find
peculiar
ginger cat.

Next to stroll in
cat named Vincent Van Gogh
and Siam,
white as fallen snow.

Kit Kat
Chi Chi
took milk with tea.

Miss Cleo and Rosy savoring dessert.

Duke of course
curious sort
sat out
upon
the stoop.
With no warning
came storming in
last to introduce.

After tea
and light fare
cat nap they did sleep.

7 cats came calling
7 cats we keep.
7 cats of the Cobblestone
7 cats they be.

poem by Gary Kedron
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cats In The Well

The cats in the well, the wolf is looking down.
The cats in the well, the wolf is looking down.
He got his big bushy tail dragging all over the ground.
The cats in the well, the gentle lady is asleep.
Cats in the well, the gentle lady is asleep.
She aint hearing a thing, the silence is a-stickin her deep.
Bridge #1:
The cats in the well and grief is showing its face
The worlds being slaughtered and its such a bloody disgrace.
The cats in the well, the horse is going bumpety bump.
The cats in the well, and the horse is going bumpety bump.
Back alley sally is doing the american jump.
Bridge #2:
The cats in the well, and pappa is reading the news.
His hair is falling out and all of his daughters need shoes.
The cats in the well and the barn is full of bull
The cats in the well and the barn is full of bull
The night is so long and the table is oh, so full
Bridge #3:
The cats in the well and the servant is at the door.
The drinks are ready and the dogs are going to war.
The cats in the well, the leaves are starting to fall
The cats in the well, leaves are starting to fall
Goodnight, my love, may the lord have mercy on us all.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Cat Sleeping On A Printer

a cat sleeps on top of
the printer
and bloody ink spills
on the floor

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eventually, if you had a printer that is IPP compliant, that printer will have a Web address and anyone around the world who can get on the Internet can print to that URL.

quote by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The paintings are transferred from my computer to a disk, and I can hand it to the printer this way; or I can modem the painting to the printer over the phone lines from my house in Hawaii.

quote by Buffy Sainte-Marie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let's Leave The 'Poems' Without Metaphors

LET’S LEAVE THE ‘POEMS’ WITHOUT METAPHORS

Let’s leave the ‘poems’ without metaphors
Bare and stark and original
Quiet and sleeping and still
The soothing poems the calming poems
The poems that even in the middle of the night
Let us sleep.
Let’s leave the poems without metaphors
And go back to the simple words
And let them say all they can by themselves
Until they become metaphors too.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cats Eye Resurrection

Cats ~ cats ~ cats
Eye
Cats ~ cats ~ cats
Splashing on my walls ~ my walls
In the field the bodies are tied
To the their crosses hair hanging down
The blood is rolling down their
Arms to the waiting dogs
Bad ~ bad ~ bad
Doctors
Bad ~ bad ~ bad
Counting the meat on the tables
In the field the bodies are tied to the
Altar the popes mule sings a song of
Freedom from his majesty-the pope
Nazi ~ nazi ~ nazi
Butchers
Nazi ~ nazi ~ nazi
Waving their tongues in the air
Cats-cats-cats-bad-bad-bad-cats eye
Resurrection

song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peace And Propriety

in the name of propriety
to cats we must be cats too

you know what happens when
we show to the cats that we
are really dogs in feelings and
actions,

there will be a chase of course,
and chaos, and there will be war
and there will be losers and
winners,

and in this matter
and manner of speaking we choose
to be dogs to assure that we win

but that is not always the case
the cats have advanced in their feline
technology and breeding

so my dear, let us just be proper
to cats we shall be cats
and make this world a happy place
for all.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Irritating Sky

The sky is always changing –
Can't it settle down?
Shades of blue, then reddy hue,
Puffs of grey and white;
And then it's bloody night!
At least I see a smattering
Of twinkly little things,
A silver globe occasionally
Which admittedly it brings
A sort of pleasant feeling,
Warming to the soul,
But overall it's so annoying –
Irritatingly droll!

Sky sky bloody sky, bloody sky sky
Sky sky bloody sky, sky bloody sky
Sky bloody sky bloody sky sky sky
Sky bloody sky bloody sky sky sky

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bloody Luxury

(coverdale)
Now when I first met you
I was rolling along,
Just a bar room crooner
Singing heartbreak songs,
An I supposed I could never get next to you
But, you seemed quite happy with my company
You kept my body heat steady at 103,
With your mouth full of gimme
An your body full of much obliged
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Youre a five star woman,
An you know what to give
To fill a part time loser
Full of reasons to live,
But, theres no doubt about it
Im taking a chance on you
Becos you get my heart beating heavy,
Make my knees go weak
You get me so damn nervous
I can hardly speak,
But, nothings gonna stop me
Hanging on my good luck charm
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...

song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alley Rats

They were calling certain styles of whiskers by the name of “lilacs.”
And another manner of beard assumed in their chatter a verbal guise
Of “mutton chops,” “galways,” “feather dusters.”

Metaphors such as these sprang from their lips while other street cries
Sprang from sparrows finding scattered oats among interstices of the curb.
Ah-hah these metaphors—and Ah-hah these boys—among the police they were known
As the Dirty Dozen and their names took the front pages of newspapers
And two of them croaked on the same day at a “necktie party” … if we employ the metaphors of their lips.

poem by Carl Sandburg
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Sunday Bloody Sunday

Well it was sunday bloody sunday
When they shot the people there
The cries of thirteen martyrs
Filled the free derry air
Is there any one amongst you
Dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding
When they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You claim to be majority
Well you know that its a lie
Youre really a minority
On this sweet emerald isle
When stormont bans our marches
Theyve got a lot to learn
Internment is no answer
Its those mothers turn to burn!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You anglo pigs and scotties
Sent to colonize the north
You wave your bloody union jack
And you know what its worth!
How dare you hold to ransom
A people proud and free
Keep ireland for the irish
Put the english back to sea!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Well, its always bloody sunday
In the concentration camps
Keep falls road free forever
From the bloody english hands
Repatriate to britain
All of you who call it home
Leave ireland to the irish
Not for london or for rome!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!

song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cattitude for M'Lady Ernestine

She tells her kittens this and that
Like any feline mother would
and she makes sure they’ve understood
Just what it means to be a cat...

For cats can trace their ancestry
much farther back than humans can
They are superior to man
although humans may not agree.

There was a time when humans knew
the feline race was born to rule.
The race of man was just a tool
cats used to do what they must do.

The menial tasks of every day
beneath a felines dignity.
A cats place was to oversee
that men did their work properly.

But times have changed and now today
Cats are seen by men as pets
but no true cat ever forgets.
That they will rule again one day.

Mean while cats have to rule by guile
A wise cat always gets her way
it is a role cats have to play.
Though cats may vary in their style.

Cats make the men provide our food
and somewhere warm and dry to sleep
Cats do not need to earn their keep.
There is no reason why we should.

That’s what men were created for.
Although they claim authority
they misperceive reality.
They’re born to worship and adore.

Perhaps cats will reward them when
Cats can assume their rightful place
as rulers of the human race.
The wheel is sure to turn again.

8-Feb-08

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Printer

My printer,
My picture,
My colour,
My muse;
Your printer,
Your picture,
Your colour,
Your muse;
Shared out with others to enhance my image!
But, this joy around me is all about your love.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roots Bloody Roots

Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roooaaaaaahh

I believe
In Our Fate
We Don't Need To Fake
It's All We Wanna Be
Watch Me Freeeaaak !!

I Say
We're Growing Every Day
Getting Stronger In Every Way
I'll Take You To A Place
Where We Shall Find Our

Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots

Rain
Bring Me The Strength
Is Breeding Me This Way
To Get To Another Day
And All I Want To See
Set Us Free

Why
Can't You See
Can't You Feel
This Is Real
Ahhh

I Pray
We Don't Need To Change
Our Ways To Be Saved
That All We Wanna Be
Watch Us Freak

song performed by by Sepultura
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Greets Her?

she prays hard in church
since it is her birthday today

and she arrives and opens
the red steel gate of the house

and i see her coming with
a black umbrella as it is raining

and i ask her who remembers her
on her birthday today? who greets her
a happy birthday?

i guess merian, i expect genie,
or momma, or gerry
or any name of the good
neighborhood

and she says, candid and true,

'oh, the ants and flies and
cats and pigs! '

i guess. like me,
she is just in love
with metaphors again.

i imagine the pigs most.
And i will
surely invite the flies who
are at war with the ants.

and the cats
are already here, as usual
licking their paws
and taking
their naps again.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Cool Cats

Three cool cats,
Three cool cats
Are coming up in a beat up car,
Spitting up a lift of candy bar
Talking on about how sharp they are.
Three cool cats.
Three cool chicks
Are walking down the street
Swinging their hips,
Splitting up a bag of potatoe chips
I think cool cats really did flip.
Three cool chicks
Three cool chicks.
Well up came that first cool cat,
He said: man look at that.
Man, do you see what i see?
Well i want that middle chick
I want that little chick.
Hey man save once chick for me.
Well three cool chicks.
Three cool chicks.
Well they love like
Angels from up above
And three cool cats
Really fell in love.
But three cool chicks
Made three fools out of
Three cool cats.
Three cool cats.
Well up came that first cool cat,
He said: man look at that.
Man do you see what i see?
Well i want that middle chick,
I want that little chick.
Hey man, save one chick for me.
Three cool chicks.
Three cool chicks.
They look like
Angels from up above
And three cool cats
Really fell in love.
And three cool chicks
Made three fools out of
Three cool cats.
Three cool cats.
Three cool cats.
Three cool cats.

song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poet's Old Age Should Be An Adventure In Metaphors

A Poet's old age should be an adventure in Metaphors-
Traveling to distant unknown shores-
Discoveries undreamed before -
Old Age should be the Age of Metaphors-

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Plain Cat

Related quotes

7 Cats of the Cobblestone

Cats In The Well

A Cat Sleeping On A Printer

Let's Leave The 'Poems' Without Metaphors

Cats Eye Resurrection

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Peace And Propriety

Irritating Sky

Bloody Luxury

Alley Rats

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Cattitude for M'Lady Ernestine

My Printer

Roots Bloody Roots

Who Greets Her?

Three Cool Cats

A Poet's Old Age Should Be An Adventure In Metaphors

En.Citatepedia^®.ro