cat poems

lolo62

Anyone know any good poems about cats? I got a book from the library a while ago with some gems but can't remember who wrote most of them.
This one is pretty famous and I keep it on my phone to share with other cat lovers

"Gentle eyes that see so much, paws that have the quiet touch.

Purrs to signal all is well,
And show more love than words can tell.

Graceful movements touched with pride,
A calming presence by your side.

A friendship that will last and grow,
Small wonder why we love them so."

gugleguy

Aons ago, in the canon of Star Trek, The Next Generation, Lieutenant Commander DATA compiled a poem in relation to his cat, Spot. More of an ode to the cat than anything. Google it to find it. My two cents for this thread.

fantasticfred

As a cat lover myself I conveiniently have a cat poem hanging up in my study. My mother had it since I was a child and I kept it myself. I think her enthusisim rubbed off on me haha. Anyway here it is, let me know if you enjoy it.

The cool cat,
is just standing there.
The cool cat,
doesn't even glare.
The cool cat,
thinks he's so hot.
The cool cat,
doesn't give a snot.
The cool cat,
doesn't listen in class.
The cool cat,
thinks his better than the rest.
The cool cat,
really has no friends.
The cool cat,
smokes after school.
The cool cat,
left his family.
The cool cat,
is a player.
The cool cat,
has no prayers.
The cool cat,
has no savers.
The cool cat,
is one tough dude.
But really....
The cool cat,
is one big fool.

lolo62

fantasticfred wrote: »

As a cat lover myself I conveiniently have a cat poem hanging up in my study. My mother had it since I was a child and I kept it myself. I think her enthusisim rubbed off on me haha. Anyway here it is, let me know if you enjoy it.

The cool cat,
is just standing there.
The cool cat,
doesn't even glare.
The cool cat,
thinks he's so hot.
The cool cat,
doesn't give a snot.
The cool cat,
doesn't listen in class.
The cool cat,
thinks his better than the rest.
The cool cat,
really has no friends.
The cool cat,
smokes after school.
The cool cat,
left his family.
The cool cat,
is a player.
The cool cat,
has no prayers.
The cool cat,
has no savers.
The cool cat,
is one tough dude.
But really....
The cool cat,
is one big fool.

Love it! Is it really about a cat though...?!

endacl

The fat cat sat on that mat, wearing a hat.

lolo62

endacl wrote: »

The fat cat sat on that mat, wearing a hat.

smartypants

SillyMangoX

Smelly cat, smally cat, what are they feeding you? Smelly cat, smelly cat, it's not your fauuuult! :pac:

endacl

SillyMangoX wrote: »

Smelly cat, smally cat, what are they feeding you? Smelly cat, smelly cat, it's not your fauuuult! :pac:

Meh. Mine was better.

Pumpkinseeds

Why Own a Cat?

There's a danger you know.
You can't own just one, for the craving will grow.
There's no doubt they're addictive, wherein lies the danger
While living with lots, you'll grow poorer and stranger
One cat is not trouble, and two are so funny,
The third one is easy, the fourth one's a honey
The fifth is delightful, the sixth ones's a breeze.
You find you can live with a houseful, with ease.
So how 'bout another? Would you really dare?
They're really quite easy, but Oh Lord, the hair!
With cats on the sofa and cats on the bed,
And crates in the kitchen, its no bother, you said.
They're really no trouble, their manners are great.
What's just one more cat and one more little crate?
The sofa is hairy, the windows are crusty.
The floor is all footprints, the furniture's dusty.
The housekeeping suffers, but what do you care?
Who minds a few noseprints and a little more hair?
So let's keep a kitten, you can always find room.
And a little more time for the dust cloth and broom.
There's hardly a limit to the cats you can add
the thought of a cutback, sure makes you feel sad.
Each one is special, so useful, so funny,
The food bill grows larger, you owe the vet money.
Your folks never visit, few friends come to stay,
Except other cat folks, who live the same way.
Your lawn has now died and your shrubs are dead, too.
Your weekends are busy, you're off with your crew.
There's cat food and vitamins, grooming and shots
And entries and travel and motels, which cost lots.
Is it worth it you wonder? Are you caught in a trap?
Then that favorite comes up and climbs in your lap.
His look says you're special and you know that you will
Keep all of the kittens in spite of the bill.
Some just for showing and some just to breed
And some just for loving, they all fill a need.
Late evening is awful, you scream and you shout
At the cats on the sofa, who refuse to get up.
The cats and the cat shows, the travel, the thrills
The work and the worry, the pressure, the bills.
The Whole thing seems worth it, the cats are your life.
They're charming and funny and offset the strife.
Your lifestyle has changed, things just won't be the same.
Yes, those cats are addictive and so's the cat game!

Author Unknown

Alun

Commander Data's Ode to Spot ...

An Ode to Spot

Felis Cattus is your taxonomic nomenclature,
an endothermic quadruped carnivorous by nature.
Your visual, olfactory and auditory senses
contribute to your hunting skills, and natural defences.

I find myself intrigued by your sub-vocal oscillations,
a singular development of cat communications
that obviates your basic hedonistic predilection
for a rhythmic stroking of your fur, to demonstrate affection.

A tail is quite essential for your acrobatic talents;
you would not be so agile if you lacked its counterbalance.
And when not being utilized to aid in locomotion,
it often serves to illustrate the state of your emotion.

O Spot, the complex levels of behaviour you display
connote a fairly well developed cognitive array.
And though you are not sentient, Spot, and do not comprehend,
I nonetheless consider you a true and valued friend.

Alun

From the Book of Kells Exhibition. Written by one of the monks as an ode to his cat, Pangur Ban ...

Pangur Ban

I and Pangur Ban, my cat,
'Tis a like task we are at;
Hunting mice is his delight,
Hunting words I sit all night.

Better far than praise of men
'Tis to sit with book and pen;
Pangur bears me no ill will;
He, too, plies his simple skill.

'Tis a merry thing to see
At our task how glad are we,
When at home we sit and find
Entertainment to our mind.

Oftentimes a mouse will stray
Into the hero Pangur's way;
Oftentimes my keen thought set
Takes a meaning in its net.

'Gainst the wall he sets his eye
Full and fierce and sharp and sly;
'Gainst the wall of knowledge I
All my little wisdom try.

When a mouse darts from its den.
O how glad is Pangur then!
O what gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I love!


So in peace our tasks we ply,
Pangur Ban, my cat and I;
In our arts we find our bliss,
I have mine, and he has his.

Practice every day has made
Pangur perfect in his trade;
I get wisdom day and night,
Turning Darkness into light.

bluecherry74

I love this poem by Walter de la Mere:

IN Hans' old Mill his three black cats
Watch the bins for the thieving rats.
Whisker and claw, they crouch in the night,
Their five eyes smouldering green and bright:
Squeaks from the flour sacks, squeaks from where
The cold wind stirs on the empty stair,
Squeaking and scampering, everywhere.
Then down they pounce, now in, now out,
At whisking tail, and sniffing snout;
While lean old Hans he snores away
Till peep of light at break of day;
Then up he climbs to his creaking mill,
Out come his cats all grey with meal —
Jekkel, and Jessup, and one-eyed Jill.

And this one by Eleanor Farjeon sums up cats' sleeping habits pretty nicely:

Cats sleep, anywhere,
Any table, any chair
Top of piano, window-ledge,
In the middle, on the edge,
Open drawer, empty shoe,
Anybody's lap will do,
Fitted in a cardboard box,
In the cupboard, with your frocks-
Anywhere! They don't care!
Cats sleep anywhere.

Pumpkinseeds

A Cat's Prayer

Now I lay me down to sleep,

The king-size bed is soft and deep...

I sleep right in the center groove

My human can hardly move!

I've trapped her legs, she's tucked in tight

And here is where I pass the night

No one disturbs me or dares intrude

Till morning comes and 'I want food!'

I sneak up slowly to begin

My nibbles on my human's chin.

She wakes up quickly, I have sharp teeth -

And my claws I will unsheath

For the morning's here and it's time to play

I always seem to get my way.

So thank you Lord for giving me

This human person that I see.

The one who hugs me and holds me tight

And sacrifices her bed at night.

Princess Peach

I had a cat named Snowball...
She died!
She died!
Mom said she was sleeping...
She lied!
She lied!
Why oh why is my cat dead?
Couldn't that Chrysler hit me instead?

zef

Check out T S? Eliots ''Old Possum's Book Of Practical cats' he wrote a collection of poems for his grandchildren . I have a copy of it since I was around 12, and it's got several great cat poems introdunig various charachtars.

The Song of the Jellicles

Jellicle Cats come out to-night
Jellicle Cats come one come all:
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright -
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball.

Jellicle Cats are black and white,
Jellicle Cats are rather small;
Jellicle Cats are merry and bright,
And pleasant to hear when they caterwaul.
Jellicle Cats have cheerful faces,
Jellicle Cats have bright black eyes;
They like to practise their airs and graces
And wait for the Jellicle Moon to rise.

Jellicle Cats develop slowly,
Jellicle Cats are not too big;
Jellicle Cats are roly-poly,
They know how to dance a gavotte and a jig.
Until the Jellicle Moon appears
They make their toilette and take their repose:
Jellicle Cats wash behind their ears,
Jellicle dry between their toes.

Jellicle Cats are white and black,
Jellicle Cats are of moderate size;
Jellicle Cats jump like a jumping-jack,
Jellicle Cats have moonlit eyes.
They're quitet enough in the morning hours,
They're quitet enough in the afternoon,
Reserving their terpsichorean powers
To dance by the light of the Jellicle Moon.

Jellicle Cats are black and white,
Jellicle Cats (as I said) are small;
If it happends to be a stormy night
They will practise a caper or two in the hall.
If it happens the sun is shining bright
You would say they had nothing to do at all:
They are resting and saving themselves to be right
For the Jellicle Moon and the Jellicle Ball.

T.S. Eliot

This is my fav poem, but there are loads more , see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Possum%27s_Book_of_Practical_Cats
Andrew LLoyd Webbers musical 'Cats' is the best known adaptation of this book.

lolo62

The Naming of Cats by T.S. Elliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover--
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

lolo62

Ode on the Death of a Favourite Cat,
Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes by Thomas Gray


"Twas on a lofty vase's side,
Where China's gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers, that blow;
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.


Her conscious tail her joy declared;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw; and purred applause.


Still had she gazed; but 'midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The genii of the stream:
Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue
Through richest purple to the view
Betrayed a golden gleam.


The hapless nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish,
She stretched in vain to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise?
What cat's averse to fish?


Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Again she stretched, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between.
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled)
The slippery verge her feet beguiled,
She tumbled headlong in.


Eight times emerging from the flood
She mewed to every watery god,
Some speedy aid to send.
No dolphin came, no Nereid stirred:
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.
A favourite has no friend!


From hence, ye beauties, undeceived,
Know, one false step is ne'er retrieved,
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;
Nor all that glisters gold. "

thegreatgonzo

The Insult by Paul Gallico:

I have been insulted.
My feelings have been hurt
And I am not coming back into the house.
You laughed at me.
Don’t think that I was fooled.
You weren’t laughing with me
But AT me
When I lost my balance
Washing,
And fell over.
You laughed,
And it wasn’t funny.
All my grace, control, and dignity were gone;
You robbed me of my image of myself
And with your braying
All but destroyed my pride.
Don’t think I cannot take a joke.
There’s nothing lacking with my sense of humour,
I just don’t like being made to look ridiculous.
It’s no use your standing there calling,
‘Kitty, kitty, kitty!’
Of offering me bribes.
Your coarse laughter
Has offended me deeply
And it make take me some time to get over it,
Or never.
If and when I come back at all
It will be
In my own sweet time.

thegreatgonzo

On a Cat Ageing by Alexander Gray:

He blinks upon the hearth-rug,
and yawns in deep content,
accepting all the comforts
that Providence has sent.

Louder he purrs, and louder,
in one glad hymn of praise
for all the night's adventures,
for quiet, restful days.

Life will go on for ever,
with all that cat can wish:
warmth and the glad procession
of fish and milk and fish.

Only-the thought disturbs him-
he's noticed once or twice,
the times are somehow breeding
a nimbler race of mice.