Each day Annie Lesley opened a can
Her eighty-six-year-old hands trembling
As she sat with her cat and ate pet food
What is wrong with this elder’s rendering?
Pride swallowed to remain independent
Large, sunken eyes peered from her weathered face
Her late spouse a decorated hero
Annie’s lifestyle a national disgrace
More enlightened cultures all over the world
Have revered their seniors throughout history
Asians and Native Americans
Are just two who honor their ancestry
Polynesians, other Pacific tribes
Respect the wisdom that comes with age
Seniors are welcome in family homes
But here in the states they’re placed in a cage
Bone-thin Annie Lesley chose to be free
Amazing neighbors with her endurance
When social services tried to intervene
She fought with remarkable resilience
Old photos on walls told many great tales
But only purring Tibby was listening
Each morning she rose to care for her cat
Until the day that Tibby went missing
In tears she claimed he must have been poisoned
Though in cat years he was older than she
Each day she sat by the window, staring
Awaiting the homecoming of Tibby
She’d been abandoned by society
Lost in the world’s most “progressive” nation
For sacrificing her spouse in World War II
Annie received little compensation
This widowed war bride never had children
Her mate had met his fate in Normandy
Posthumous awards she dusted each day
Annie’s life was defined by loyalty
To a man and a cat who never came home
And the vigil she kept all alone
Ended quietly one warm summer night
When an angel came to take Annie home
With a can of cat food in hand when found
Annie had nothing else to eat in her house
This is the way a veteran’s wife died
And tear stains had blemished her faded blouse
Although seniors’ wisdom is heeded
In societies that grow from history
Too many like Annie lead lonely lives
Wisdom untapped, they die in poverty
A Tribute to Golda
It was a clear and bright sun shining morning in May.
As I came out my front door into the breezeway,
I saw coming toward me an enormous gray dog with eyes of pure gold,
The most exquisitely beautiful canine one could ever behold,
With a calm gentle presence and peaceful demeanor;
The look in his brilliant gold eyes assured I had nothing to fear.
It was love at first sight and I hoped he would stay.
Never mind the impediments; I’d find a way.
My toddler son climbed on him like they’d grown up together,
As I seriously pondered the prospect of whether…
Absolutely not, said my husband, a cat man,
And nixed the idea before it began.
Weeks later, a litter box and cat food mysteriously appeared
On the sidewalk, out of nowhere; we thought it quite weird.
With the next morning’s sunrise, we figured it out.
The same coat of gray and gold eyes left no doubt;
The same being who before as a dog had been spurned,
In a more acceptable form and presence had now returned.
Bounding out of the bushes with a commanding meow,
A little gray, gold-eyed kitten my husband had to allow.
In her life as a cat and formerly a dog,
She was my brave and wise Golda who would go on to log
More than one rescue of our subsequent pets.
In defending attack, this courageous gray, gold-eyed feline was as fierce as it gets.
Note: Golda saved the life of my Chow-Chow puppy when she was attacked by a big dog that
came at her from across the street. Golda came out of nowhere with claws out, sending the
dog scurrying with his tail between his legs. Another time she rescued our little Siamese
youngster, Meowli, from the neighbors' dogs by jumping on their head while Meowli ran for
cover. Golda stayed with me for 12 years, longer than the husband cited in the poem, and
then when her time and her work was done, she just disappeared pretty much as she had
appeared. She was a beautiful, long haired all gray Persian with brilliant gold eyes. When not
rescuing other animals, she had the same calm, gentle and peaceful demeanor as the dog who
showed up that morning and left when he knew he was not welcome to stay.
7th place winner in ~Somewhere A Pet Is Waiting Contest~ sponsored by ~A Rambling Poet~
one day I met a new little friend from that
day my life would begin again he made me
laugh alot we was always out and about
on rainy days we would run in the house
and he would chase a mouse he was my best
friend and I miss him
one day I got bad news he got loose and ran
away I looked all day but my cat was gone
away never to return oh how I yearn for my
my best friend I lost my best friend I
lost a part of my life I will always
wait for you my pet my little friend til
in dedication to my little cat Mooda
She greets me with morning eyes
and we laugh under white down
telling stories of all sorts:
Cats who wear backpacks
at night filled with treats
Lizards who step foot
into her messy room
and then turn on their tails
for a quick stepped retreat
Then we come up
with the juice we could drink
such as "air juice"
which forces the hiccups to come
or the dreaded old colored
balloon juice (Have some
and your belly will blow up
to sky high retorts)
We laugh as we come up
with juice of all sorts
"Zipper juice" closes your mouth
in a zip
which a friend must unzip
between every sip!
"Camel hair juice"
why now THAT is just sticky
and goes down your throat
quite incredibly tickly!
"Elephant toe juice"
We think that is one
that we'll leave quite untouched
as it wouldn't be fun
to drink toe juice and such
So - that is the way that we spend
all our mornings
Stories and giggles
and smiles galoring
Perhaps this is something that you do as well
with a hat and a cape and a cat and a bell
for we all have a tale, to be told and to tell
when we're fresh from a leap off the edge of our dreams
and being awake isn't quite what it seems
for the cat is still wearing his backpack...
Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
My Mother caring about all five in different ways
Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays
My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John.
music a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !
Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
The music takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "
My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food
the yelling , slamming of doors , tempers Flare , passion
Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?
Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee
No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
the Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .
Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
Excited in Chicago ! seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
Cubs , museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `
Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones ,
scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
~ That is the Family I Love ,
that is the Family I choose to miss ~
Ode To Pretty Cat
My cat has female inclinations when it purrs
It does not speak in English using words
But has a perfect soul
Pretty Cat gets by, with its billowy fur
Prefers not fighting and takes flight
At any sign of danger or such notions
Avoids all confrontations
Wears his fluffy yellow hair like gold
He spreads out on his pillows that are its oceans
Unfolds, unfurls his coat in thick proportions
Spoiled, preened and cleaned in lotions
He’s such a pretty boy
Curtains hang as clouds, as distractions
Such fun and dangling’s, to drag them down, as pleasure toys
We smother him in kisses, emotions and affections
He’s such a pretty thing
Who simply glows
He’s almost human
It is a life of comforts, slumbering all day
I would love to be with kitty all the time
But work and life get in the way
So I must work so Pretty Cat can play
It dreams in feline tiny mind expressions
Short cat naps at a time of happy things and smiles
Imagines fish and birds served up in style with some cat nip
Pretty Cat has no place to go so it grows fat
We pet him for hours while he rolls on his back
I just love being with my little friend
A true city kitty cat
Though he is very old he stays real sweet and pretty
My heart jumps, as it attacks the string I hold
It clings to it and swings with fevered paws
As bright green eyes follow like a tick tock clock
Pendulum like as the one thing in life he likes a lot
It is through comfort found in twine and string
My cat and I find true happiness in things
When I’m with Pretty Cat problems fade far away
Dissolve and melt into tomorrow with no sorrow
Where beauty alone cannot keep his lustrous eyes awake
Our play time has no measure in the hours
I always find pure pleasure with that Pretty cat of mine
Created on 11/04/14 for “Pets” -Poetry Contest
She smiles all day she thinks it' s o.k.
She makes weird sounds and it's all day
My Aunt I asked will you not make that silly sound today?
My Aunt looked at me and said why? she always say
In public she snorts when she laughs and I get that
But when things get out of hand she scares my the cat
I have a cat but my Aunt well she kinda sat
Poor little cat it was now a furry little mat
I get really mad at her, but she seems to make me smile
Because one day we walked, she sang me a song about a mile
I was happy because she ran out of gas at last
She also could not speak at all, and that was a blast
Although she could not speak
She kept smiling she once never look bleak
My Aunt Willy who's Silly is the person who never does things in half's
I can not express any louder she makes me smile with laughs
Goldie, my peculiar but beloved cat,
has certain affectations --
she prefers, most times, her own society
and shuns her housemates.
But, sometimes, she cuddles
or will join the others
to laze around -- in the living room,
the dining room, a hallway, or
in the kitchen.
An inside cat who, early on,
suffered the indignity of
she asserts her independence
by darting into the front yard
when a door is opened --
and she pointedly ignores
any calls or pleas to come inside.
But when the door shuts
and no one is around, she is fearful,
immediately climbing up into the ash tree.
And there she stays
until I come to coax her down.
She may climb high up
and, finally, shakily manage
a descent to allow me to pick her up
and carry her back inside.
She never leaves the yard
but does enjoy ignoring me
when I am in a hurry.
She will dart about and run
from one side of the yard to the other.
For her, it's only an infrequent game.
And, as my treasured pet,
she certainly deserves to play
while testing the limit
of my affectionate, chagrined
Nine lives are bestowed upon a cat to live,
In this world full of danger we travel through.
None may escape the final time appointed to them,
Even the cat has it's last moment to breathe.
Living a life of adventure, demands some extra chances,
It's the curious cat, trapped, who really needs it.
Vain cats cleaning themselves on a slim, lofty ledge.
Excitable cats trying to catch the mysterious red dot.
Silly cats flipping their tails at a dog pack.
For the "Nine" contest.
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
written 7th May 2013
Time for a nap
said the cat
Time to play
said the puppy, his tail waved
Time for class
did you hear the bell teacher asked
Time for tea, called mum
why, your're always last young son!
Time for bed, dad called
all went quiet down the hall
Brush your teeth, yelled mum
finally, tucked in tight
All dreamed peacefully, till sunlight
I do not know?
Well we are already a couple of months in so i just wanted to say welcome.
this will be a new journey for the both of us, so i hope it will be awesome.
I will try to write more than usual this year, I promise. :)
What would help tho if you readers would send me topics and stuff to help me write about things cuz my mind goes way faster than my fingers and i cant think of just one thing. lol. so thank you readers. plz comment and tell me your thoughts.
Not long before I put down my dirt filled hoe
Into my yard she quietly crept
It’s as though she knew I needed her cheer
She was rust colored and sadly matted cat
Not the most attractive feline I’d ever seen
But she was lonely and hungry, and in need
Of course immediately my Mothering instinct beckoned
She followed me to where I poured some milk for her
Not ever having a cat I didn’t have cat food on hand-
So I opened a can of tuna to her delight
She lapped it up and looked up at me with a smile
The next day there she was waiting and the day after and so on
I had found a friend
So I went out and bought some cats food
She was now mine of at least I thought so
Who could have ever done such a thing?
Leaving her to the streets?
I bought her flea collar and bells to wear
Soon she would just sit on my lounge chair waiting for me
I had to bring her into the house she still looked so frail
One day while she was eating I noticed her choking on her food
It continued so I made an appointment to see the vet
It had to be done anyway after all she was to be mine
While we had our visit and the saddest moment of my life came
The doctor said she had throat cancer and it was advanced
Our friend Tabby didn’t but a few weeks to live
So my husband and I made the pain staking decision
To put her to sleep
Tears poured from every corner of my eyes
“No” was all I screamed inside she had brightened my life
How could someone have left her alone?
The Vet felt the previous owner knew about her condition
They left her to suffer knowing she was so sick
I felt we at least gave her 6 weeks of love and care before she left this place
I will never forget the love and championship this rusty feline gave me
Months later my family and I adopted another cat Tabby showed us-
The greatest love and companionship that animals give you unconditional
We now have two wonderful cats that were adopted
They bring so much to our lives
She’s out there chasing a cricket
Through bush, through shrub & through thicket
Together they hop
But when she gets it, she just wants to lick it!
A cat whose vet took his eye
Just cannot quite understand why
His eye’s been enucleated,
3-D vision reduciated,
So now, he keeps an eye out for an eye
Ya gotta keep limericks loose
Think green eggs, or perhaps Dr. Seuss
They’re structured, it’s true,
But they’re also a zoo
Whose tenants are all on the loose!
I frolic in fountains of words
Overflowing with serious absurds
Each poem I write
Wakes up and takes flight
Joining angels and faeries and birds
You ask that we write a good limerick
How to do so, I haven’t a glimmerick
So I struggle and frown
Teaching poems to clown
So a smile on your lips will be shimmerick
A cat with a mouth full of mouse
Brought her feast right into my house
She played with her food
Who was not in the mood
To be a banquet of mouse in the house
The nightmares that shadow my sleep
Stampede the proverbial sheep
Right out of my mind
When I try to unwind
I find my appointment with sleep hard to keep
In her search for original truth
She met people unsavory and couth
She knitted and purled
But only unfurled
Yarns told by new age and old youth
Cat, suddenly pink,
Drinks her water from out of the sink
She looks so absurd
Since she’s been de-furred
I really don’t know what to think!
If one and one is two and two is four,
And there’s only two ways to go through a door,
Then, is earth up or down?
And, where is down town?
These are questions we need to explore!
A was that is an is
Tried to mind my biz
But I sent it packing,
Its presence was lacking
And I don’t have time for such shiz!
A couple who lived in Los Lunas
Loved the wide desert sky’s crystal blueness
They’d stare at the air,
Over here, over there
And rejoice at the feeling of newness
A cat with a very fat gut
Found it easier to walk on his butt
He’d drag it around
Across carpet and ground
And use it to slam the doors shut
Said the Missus to her dear Mr. Otter,
“There’s something I think that you oughta
Do before we get old
To protect us from cold –
You oughta make the hot water hotter!”
The ghosts who live up in my attic
Make noises that sound much like static
I’ve tried to send them away,
But they’re here to stay,
Those staticky ghosts in my attic
The crashing waves hit the bow, as we cut through waters deep.
Clasped in irons that cut the skin; forged in the fires that never sleep.
The desert was dry, the sun beat down, I am free as a bird
The breeze tickled through the oasis, near the camel herd
Now my love is fading, like the burnt embers of those flames.
I am now branded a thief and prisoner, amongst some other names.
The hate I felt for the whore that tried to give his love to me.
Was so strong I felt I could kill him, my love he will never see.
I stole for her a flower, a simple heart felt gift.
The perfume now a memory, on this prison galleon adrift.
I am traveling to my wedding, across the desert so hot and dry.
Perfumed flower petals along the way, by slaves are scattered awry.
Seven years the price for my gift of love it did gain.
Hard labour I endure, to avoid the leather cat pain.
My arms are full of bracelets, and pearls hang round my neck.
I never think of him, now shackled on that deck.
Her kisses sublime, a memory fading, the perfume of her skin and hair
The price is high but I will pay, I took her from him to be fair.
To think I could have kissed. him makes my skin fairly crawl.
But the plan worked well, for my new rich lover, it managed to enthrall.
Slaves to love, there is no choice, when our hearts lead us astray.
I stand here windswept and tear stained, with seven years to pay.
How dry my eyes now he has gone, freedom is beckoning me.
So easy it was to frame him, now he has seven years before he is free.
I stand in the wind, rope in hand, waves crashing all around.
My ankles are bleeding with the chains, and the cat makes a whistling sound.
I lay on cushions with rings on my fingers the slaves are fanning me.
My wrists are bathed in rose oil, and kissed perpetually.
My love is strong, my heart is given, and I know I will endure.
My love will wait for me, my beauty, my life, my own sweet amour.
Thank goodness I kept my heart for me, and for me alone.
This thing called love is foolish, my heart it has never known.
In collaboration with Declan Fitzgerald who started the story off which made it easy to alternate my side of the story as a femme fatale between his couplets.
There’s a cat on a wooden box meowing
With a purring ability inside
The cat smiles when he sings, ever knowing
Having a crowd around him, they abide
Some listen to his insidious tones
There’s a cat on a wooden box meowing
Some dogs are nearby, just chewing their bones
Sending some cats away, others hiding
Cat’s in the center with the cats crowding
Meowing to his own rhythm, singing high
There’s a cat on a wooden box meowing
The group of cats within, to him don’t lie
Each saying his prowess is beyond cool
The group tries to sing, and with him leading
He’s the cat’s meow, even while he drools
There’s a cat on a wooden box meowing
From the wood where coyotes play
Blackie cat came on a summer’s day.
Called seemingly, to fill the place
where Rocky the cat lay dreaming.
A proud old tom who’d seen his end
Rocky had held it long at bay.
A Guardian was he of Mom you see,
but when he passed she’d stay.
And he’d not leave till he knew
she would not be alone…
He’d found ole Blackie for her
to give them both a happy home.
Blackie and he had many a day
of lolling in the grass and sun.
But Rocky’s porch he would not share
that was for Mom and he the only one.
She feed them both, each to his own
and cared for both in kind.
Rocky’s plan, he was the man…
was to not leave her alone inside.
So, Rocky's sweet self sacrifice
of staying much too long
was blessed with painless passing
He died in Mommy’s arms.
Now everyday, ole Blackie comes
as Rocky told him too.
To keep his Mommy company
another Guardian true.
Still too frightened to come inside,
Mom’s sure he will one day.
And on that day they’d both be sure
that Blackie’d come to stay.
One summers eve
I was watching tv
When a big fluffy cat strolled in
And meowed at me
I did not know
From where he had come
But I fed him, and stroked him
It was joyful and fun
Every day he would come back for more
Oh this big fluffy cat, I did so adore
It was one afternoon
When I spoke to a neighbor
She told me that, I was his savior
She looked at me, and as she sighed
She told me that, his owner died
He adopted me to be his mum
My life with a cat had just begun
He gives me such joy, and always the giggles
Oh, and by the way I named him Kibbles
He fills my life with so much love and affection
When he puers on my lap, It's tranquil perfection
You never know whats coming your way
When Kibbles arrived, it was my lucky day!
One day my daughter brought home a scraggly looking young cat who had always
lived outside. In her first year, we learned she had given birth to two litters of kittens, most of which died. She’d always had to scrounge for food and had even escaped from the pound, only to find her way back to that place where she’d not been well-treated! When my daughter saw her, it was her kittens that were being given away. But my daughter saw a gentle quality in this mother cat that surpassed the sweetness of the kittens and asked to take the mother, who became known to our family as Callie (for Calico).
Callie grew plump and flourished in our home. She was no nuisance to anybody or anything. She became so pampered that she hated the outdoors and if a door were opened, she would approach the “outside” cautiously, only to come racing back inside the minute we returned from our porch. Callie loved to sit on laps and be petted. The older she got, the louder she even purred. If a visitor came to the house, she would climb to their laps. She was small and so likable that nobody wanted to shoo her away.
When our children left home, she became my one and only baby, curled up by my pillow each night and awakening me with a little pat to my face every morning for her breakfast. Callie lived a long life, nearly 18 years, but has since passed on. Dying of cancer, she clung to life until we saw fit to have her put to sleep. I have since adopted other cats, and my current cat is indeed charming, but I still believe there is not another cat in the world that can compare to our one and only Callie Cat!
We have an ugly cat or it has us
That spends hours on a shelf along with dishes
Looks like it’s been run over by a bus
Did I mention it’s malicious?
Kitty sits there with the plates in strict resistance
Thinking about how to become more cute
It has no clue but contemplates existence
As we figure out its longitude and “attitude”
Most small creatures are sweet and cuddly
Not the case with this feline with its fatal flaws
It takes pride in being ugly
And with spare time, tearing curtains, climbing walls
We haven’t figured out the sex yet, of our pretty-less pet
Can’t get too near, it bites and claws our backs
It leaves wounds you won’t forget
We’re not sure if it wears a dress or real fur of black
Ugly cat comes from a questionable lineage
We found it howling in an ally with no vitality
It stays with us, probably won’t reach old age
Lacking looks, will send it to an early grave, a feline fatality
10/08/14 Impress me with a poem (a poem, I haven't read yet) Poetry Contest
In a house made of stone with vines and cobwebs trailing down
A lonely woman could be found
Peeking from her window
To see the world outside
and in the bushes staring back
three little girls would run and hide
She's a witch
She has to be
That was the logic of us three
Her long knotted hair
and cats everywhere
and the wart on her face
and the look of the place
Oh she's a witch for certain
as long thin fingers pulled back the curtain
One day we got the courage up to knock upon her door
She asked aren't you scared enough
or did you come back for more?
Poor old woman all alone
minding her business in her home
but to us it was a game
never thinking we caused her pain
We told her our cat went missing
She said look in the linen closet
That's where she just might be
How could she know?
thought us three
Sure enough the cat was there
She helped us out
but did we care
That proves she's a witch
That proved it right there
She was really just a wise old lady who knew cats quite well
but we were convinced that scary witch might cast an evil spell
Never once did we say thank you or stop by to say hello
If only we knew back then the things we've come to know
I am writing this poem about you!
It’s not an easy thing to do
because I don’t know you.
But I know there are billions
of people on this planet.
Some will die while I write this and
while you read it others will be born.
Most have two arms,
two legs, and two eyes
one heart, one brain,
one mouth to speak with.
We are all the same.
People are people but
we don’t think alike.
Some of us love each other,
others hate everyone;
most do both unequally –
we choose what we think,
and we think differently.
You are the perfect subject for a poem.
You are the same as everyone
and like no other before you;
unique to yourself, exclusive to none.
You elude the common
and illude the extraordinary.
You are a homophone for the human race.
Are we not all homophones of each other?
A complacence to complaisance,
and effect to an affect, a tear to a tear,
the sole of a soul.
A homophone like you may be too
large a subject for one poem,
too complicated, too complex.
So, I will write about my cat instead,
a car ran over him yesterday
he is dead; and I have, in my fridge,
a half can of cat food in a plastic bag
useless and taking up space
and there is no homophone for that.
A cat, snoozing on my bed, black as night.
Curled around, his tale in his face.
Eyes flicker open, revealing eyes like brilliant beryl.
A soft meow issues from him, implying that he want's a scratch.
He is a beautiful cat,
my best friend...the friend who has always been there for me.
No matter what. The friend I've had the longest.
For all of my life, I've had to move every 3 years.
The burden of an army brat.
15 years I've had to take that,
my friends being ripped away,
just as I'm really getting to know them.
Can you imagine that?
Not having a friendship that lasted for more than 3 years?
Then, when I was 7, Sammy was brought into my life.
A miracle. A street cat, disowned by the family of his owner,
left to fend for himself,
in the busy town of Barstow, California.
Nobody wanted this cat, the obsidian feline,
the bringer of misfortune.
I was going to adopt one cat, a calico. Then I saw him.
All alone, being hissed at by the very cat I was to adopt.
Right there I decided.
As so many children say for other pets. "That one."
From then on we had a friendship,
no matter the times.
My best friend, to the day.
A friend like no other,
a cat unlike any other,
why should anyone ever bother?
Because they make the best friends,
Deep breath to shake it
Cold chill slivers down fast
Beating against cage of heart
Cage of body
Cage of soul
Legs begging to run
Heart aching to be free
Truth to self
aching to be seen
Sweet scent of dry savannah plains
Sharp smell of thorny veins
The aroma of Africa surrounds
Scents sights sounds
In these home is found
Snarling at every motion made
Scared but defiant
Blinded by fear and rage
Paws long for endless journeys
On paths walked centuries ago
For elegance in element
A space all her own
Where earth still bleeds red on horizon
Morning and night
Continuing the endless fight
Fight for borderless freedom
The pale yellow green eyes
Dismays the truth inside
But tell the story
Of wild soul
Story to unfold
The sunlight pierces the dark clouds
It's warmth touches my face
As it dries the raindrops 'pon trees
The Dove coos from its place
All seems well until the Dove flies
Then clouds cover the sun
The cat and Princess both want me
A peaceful place now done
Cindy wins the warm lap and curls
She wants to sleep and sleeps
Princess pitter patters tippy
Toe, in sadness she weeps
There is a great fear that many secure
Fear that completely stands the test of time
It’s a fear that I have, timeless for sure
When a black cat crosses the path of mine
I go and turn around, right on a dime
But first I must mark him off, a crisscross
For the powers of a black cat possess
Is beyond the realm of the normal world
I know they leave me in a complete loss
I have fear of them, they make my blood boil
Entrant into Tanya Harrington's "What's Your Fear?" contest
Life Of Fleas
Well, they start out working at the circus
After eggs, bacon and dogs
They become accountants, multiply like crazy
Later they become football players
Famous for the flea flicker and other tricks
Life isn't fair
Life is a flea... and then you marry one
Some marry quickly with ticks
It never lasts. They have affairs
Then things get a little weird
They grow beards and move to New York
Work on Wall Street and eat with knives and forks
At fine restaurants, though they have no fingers
And don’t wear cloths
Such things don’t come in their sizes
For exercise some leap tall buildings in a single bound
If their legs hold out
You can find them at the opera
I don’t know why you would want to do that
They are everywhere in flea and tick season
Found in the hair of cats, dogs and at malls
Fleas don’t have names for a reason
And don’t divorce or pay taxes
Life is too short
They should be deported of course for not working
Clearly not mans best friend
None have a social security card
Drinking beer, going around naked, hanging out in the yard
With entirely too many friends
It never ends
Today, it just doesn't seem fair
That we are still able to breathe.
They have given us their air-
Our duty to lead the life they leave.
A cat walked across the street
(After looking both ways).
It was a pretty Kitty.
There were trees across the street.
In the trees there were squirrels.
The squirrels raised families.
They ate acorns,
they made babies,
A cat stepped across the street.
(After looking one way).
It was a pretty stray Kitty.
Across the street there were farmlands.
In the farmlands lived humans.
The humans raised many different plants.
The humans fed these plants to many types of animals.
Then the animals gave the humans “gifts”.
Which the humans ate, drank, and made into money.
Then they had sex (like animals).
A cat ran across the street.
It was a pretty curious stray Kitty.
It was run over by a taxi.
Riding inside the taxi were a Father and Son.
The Father remained unconcerned.
The Son frowned, looked out the window, and wept.
“The poor Kitty,” he said staring down at his hands.
“Why Dad, why did the Kitty have to die?” he asked.
“Son, the Kitty didn’t die; it went to Kitty Heaven.”
He answered almost-smiling at his Son now watching
the traffic consume outside quickly, noiselessly.
A cat stumbled across the street.
(At midnight, eyes closed).
Just some Goddamed kitty cat.
The Kitty was crushed by a taxi and by an ambulance
and by a Greyhound bus and by a mini-van.
All tomorrow bound and running a day late.
Thump! Thump-thump! and all Kitty’s bones shattered,
as a car window shatters (into thousands of perfect cubes).
Kitty’s use-to-be head popped like a water balloon;
that some homeless child dropped on a hot sidewalk-
in New York City summertime.
Its lifeless body was vomited up against-
wheel well wheel well wheel well, eventually
spiraling into a drainage ditch off the highway.
Where it laid epileptically twitching.
Yellow eyes now open and looking forever
upward at the hazy stars of almost June
in the Twenty-first century, respectfully.
As the kids sat around undecided and blaize…
A summer project was needed ever so badly today…
My crew wavered and together finally exclaimed…
They wanted a video and to make it spectacular this time…
Anything less than U Tube quality would be a crime…
So the kids ask for a poem about their favorite fare,
They wanted it full of a large quantity of action and flair.
And the topic they wanted, that warmed their hearts…
Were the antics of Dandylion the cat of our house.
So cat chasing and spying became a spectacular game…
As they watched the kitty pounce upon his little rag mouse.
Then he slid and he jumped as he ran through the house.
He attacked the dogs tails as he snuck up behind…
And he climbed to the window to count birds passing by…
Then he tried to jump on the counter as I made everyone’s lunch.
He had to eat first… there was no other way, than first…
Then later I put the baby down for a nap…
And surprise, surprise!
I found the Kitty next to baby with 4 paws to the sky.
The video, music, and poetry would eventually come to be…
With the older kids stringing it together for me.
It was finally good for a lot of laughs…
As the kids all got copies for dear Mom and Dad…
But now let me instruct and suggest as all videos must:
Though many a one was happily surprised and beset…
No Animals were hurt in the making of “Nap Time for Kitty”...
Of that, you can bet...
Fables of CharlaX
There is far too many to make a short list there is superstitions eye remember
when eye was just a kid. The many things my girlfriends had to tell me things
they ruined life at such an early age there is the BROKEN MIRROR that brings
the SEVEN YEARS bad luck? The black cat crossing my path. The ladder that
was never under the beam do not step under that in a funk of disbelief eye did all
them things and now eye am homeless could it be that eye am superstitious or
just unlucky in my life but then eye have met my violet flower my only one and only
new life partner she is such a wonderful person not a superstitious reason in her
curtain eye am certain of that now? The cat was never black enough to scare me
but there was that just one time? It ran of course because my petting would have
kept it from the dinner the mouse tail sticking out of a very black and ebon mouth.
No bad luck can come to me AH HA eye cried its nothing. Then eye ran a little up
the hill to home. And almost strangeld self eye ran full tilt boogie into the wire
clothes line nearly taking off my head and losing all the dread of dying for there it
nearly was. That was back in 1961 the time is not important there was never any
time for love. Some things eye can remember but choose not to keep at all. Do
not mop the floor under my feet is one.
Do not make such sweeps under my feet and yes we did we told the girls to put
the feet up so we must seep there anyway do you want me to get fired from such
an important job as this one?
They screamed and left the diner sure that bad luck was to come upon them oh
gentle reader ewe don't laugh Erline never sweeps behind the counter.
Age unto its self
is like a cat to a bird-
belly low to ground-
without a warning heard.
Surprise found in my eyes
is the same for all old men-
same look that’s on the bird
that the cat comes drags in.
He's a silent hunter,
with a murderous heart,
and he doesn't care,
what he tears apart,
he is very independant,
and cunning to,
and if your his prey,
then you are through,
he has a ravinish blood lust,
that he can't contain,
and if he don't kill,
he'll go insane,
he may seem like a sweet little kitty,
but trust me people,
he is witty,
don't let those purrs,
and cuddles fool,
he has many concealed weapons,
he'll use as a tool,
he has needle sharp teeth,
and 5 dagger claws,
on each and everyone,
of his cute little paws.
I do not know?
A curious drop of organe dusk; making way to peek amid the curtains....
Hush the breath rising in slivers of delight; a manifold cat crowing
With blood dripping from the vine; candlelight shadows and the clock chimes
Black rubies twined atop pentagon lines; vanilla incantations of silk desires
Parting red lips to stoke this fire; deep the moans bewitching cradle
Resting now the dawn which waits; within her arms love set ablaze....
Nightfalls curious drop of time; beyound the curtains in that sublime
Whereupon her bosom it does lie; casting spells while taking tithes
In this my heart she surely knows; outside the window a proxic cat crows
Aneath blood and blue rubies dripping from the vine; such silk incantations....
...."My Beautiful Bride's" *
I do not know?
The sky looks like a Turner painting.
At the high point it’s brighter,even golden cream
Like the top of a bottle of Jersey milk;
then it dims down to a bluey gray
with a slight threat in it
like a blacker gray…It’s
Too warm today for snow.
I swept brown dried leaves from the step..
Had to move my bike.
Then I hid them under the hedge
So they can keep some insects warm in the winter.
But mainly I don’t want to bend down to collect them,,
I’m tired or lazy after the weekend.
I still have a dress here I was ironing just a week or two ago.
Now it will be put away till next summer.
Here’s a denim jacket with flowers all over…
I did wear it but it won’t look right now.
I washed my hair.It feels soft and pleasant.
I like that feeling.I am wondering what you are doing.
Are you listening to music or resting?
Or sitting looking down the road at wet fields?
I think I’ll make some tea.
I need a focus for the day which also has a feeling
Like those late watercolors
Until one thing dissolves into an other.
Some people like it but today
I need some edge,some definition.
I need someone to give me boundaries.
Time 4 pm
Kettle boils and a neighbor’s cat peers by the locked cat flap…
Wondering why she can’t get in.
I turn away.
Now the sky is without any gold
It’s fifty shades of gray.
It’s clouded dark and soft
Like your hair might have been
But I could never have touched it…
You were always too far away and moving.....
Cat purrs at earplug
Blue plastic dancing with paws
I lack their wisdom
A man sits by a fire, No life partner, or companion besides his beloved cat.
The cat he calls Mr kittles which is loving and gentle and has kept the man sane throughout the years.
He still remembers the cat as a kitten crying and meowing for food and being scared.
The man remembers tending to the kitten and getting a sense of fulfillment and meaning to his life although hes depressed and has no meaning to live.
From kitten to cat it gives him the motivation and love.
Everyday the man feeds and waters the cat and sits on his chair and pets and listened to the sounds of a comfortable purr from the animal.
Days go to years and the youth full cat is old and brittle showing signs of fatigue and loss of life.
The mans fear of losing his cat is coming true.
Hes been dreading the day he will lose his best friend and companion.
Everyday the man pays more and more attention trying to get in those last pets and whiffs of the cats fur.
For the man doesn't know when the day will come so he is scared and must Cherish every moment.
Life is a very sacred thing and should not be taken for granted, He cries solely every night fearing the worst.
How will he cope and what feelings will come upon him with the cats passing.
He knows he might not have the strength if his best friends leaves him behind!
The day has come the car is terrible sick and the man knows what has to be done. He takes the cat to the vet and they lay him down and hook up the IV.
The mans heart beats, palms become clammy, the mind rushing with an controllable thoughts of sadness.
He stares in to the cats eyes as they dimmed and shut, the man starts crying uncontrollably and pets the cats head and tells him he loves him.
After this the man goes home sits on his chair and an eerie feeling of not knowing Ur fellow friend wont be there to comfort you comes over the man.
The grief is to strong the man starts drinking heavily and takes his own life.
I Wrote this pretty quickly its like 4am I couldn't sleep.
Its funny the story above is based loosely on me and my cat.
He sixteen years old Ive had him since the fifth grade and hes always been there for me.
Sleeping next to me I love petting him and smelling his hair.
I got real close to this cat after my divorce.
He real sick now and you never know life comes at you quick.
So make good of your time and to the people in your life
When the ether settles
and fortune bellows
and eastern stars make haste
Says one cat to the other's jazz
let not the crystal trade your
For growing roads like trees
a constellation mayn't foretell
Like ore, a mineral deposit found,
such plaster curves
and muscles drive.
The cat with jazz then
made aware, did leave his iron
And south by east
the stars they ride.
Sitting on a bench by the window at night
Playing with some flowers that happen to be there
She looks out the window, enjoying the sight
Neon light shines on her from the hotel that’s near
A black cat jumps on her lap, covers the flower
Purrs loudly, takes away the silence that’s no more
She pets him, continues to look out with power
Mood is created something she feels in the core
The night, mostly quiet, with a crushed flower
And a purring cat laying on her disturbed lap
Seeing the flashing neon sign by the bower
Is enough to bring peace while she takes a nap
Her tenderness was shown between all things there
Her eyes dropped quickly while the mood did broaden
Calmness was all over the place and in the air
She loved her life and all the perfect things within
Just like football I am trying to reach the goal
Zigzagging down the field of life to keep from getting bowled
It is first down in the morning as that whistle rocks my head
Just a little button hook to get me out of bed
I am tackled within three steps as my son bursts through the door
His sister went long with his mobile phone to even up the score
I coach them how to play together, not to scream and shout
Both are yanked from the game for a personal time out
At ten AM in the second quarter I think I am gaining ground
The dog intercepts a pass by the cat to turn the game around
Racing out the patio door that dog and cat did mesh
It cost the dog a bout in his cage for unnecessary roughness
Halftime brings the team together to analyze performance
After lunch we play again to make good a second chance
The clock winds down with end zone in sight, dinner takes a tumble
An audible I had to call because the cake I fumbled
And finally in quarter four, the game down to the wire
A revelation that no one else could manage this empire
Though touchdowns are sweet in life, one thing I came to know
Sometimes to win the game at hand you only need a field goal
I do not know?
When the wind blows,
I see the depths of your soul.
When the wind blows,
i can see your beauty.
As the sun comes up,
Your face lights up.
As the moon goes down,
My world turns upside down.
When the clouds spread,
I can see the beauty in you.
When the clouds form together,
Our love will be forever.
When the moon shines,
Our love is divine.
When the stars are lit,
Your face is lit too.
As the blades of a saw grind,
Our love will soon be combined.
As i put the key to start our love,
It says access denied.
Did the dog and cat fight,
Or did they play.
Did the cat and does play,
Or did the hide from each other all day.
Does your inner soul have love,
Or does it have kindness.
Does your outer soul have beauty,
Or does it have richness.
When i first learned my ABC's,
I first spelled your name.
When i first learned how to talk,
I first said your name.
As the soccer player kicks the ball,
Our love will never fall.
As the basketball player bounces the ball,
Our love will always stand tall.
When we are together,
Our love will last forever.
When we are apart,
I will still love you with all my heart.
I will lock the door,
As quick as I can lock my heart.
I will stop the car,
As quick it can go.
As the wheels of a car turn,
My heart starts to burn.
As the turbo kicks on,
Our love has only just begun.
When the sound of kids comes to my mind,
I know our love will now combined.
When the people tell me that you love me,
I want to say i love you too.
Now that were all friends,
Our love is good.
Now that were friends,
Our love will never be split again.
Now that our love is combined,
I will never hear access denied.
Now that were together,
We will be together forever.
When your tears come down,
I will wipe them of your face.
When I see a pile,
I can see your face with a smile.
When the water washes up,
Our love is now going to start.
When the wave crashes down,
I can see you frown.
Now that the story is over,
Our love will never be lowered.
Now that the love is finished,
Our love will never be extinguished.
No one can split us up,
We will just never stop.
No one can be with either of us,
Because were always going to be.
Many see us together forever,
Some see us broke up and not together.
Many see us in the future,
Some see us on an adventure.
I was going to write you a poem
but my cat lay in the road.
I scraped up his remains with a shovel
paced them in a plastic bag,
dropped it into a dumpster.
I was going to write you a poem
but in my fridge is a half can of cat food,
with a cellophane lid,
useless and taking up space.
I wore black one day,
Into the middle of town,
The folks all saw my dress,
And smiles turned to frowns.
I smile at them all,
I make them shiver in their clothes,
They dare not avert their ears,
As my lips speak sacred prose.
No one understands,
What my lips mean to say,
My words up in their mind,
Breaking up the fray.
I no longer bother with words,
And my smile speaks for me,
And I disappear into the shadow,
And my smile is all they see.
Like a Cheshire Cat,
My smile speaks more,
than my ununderstandable words,
Ever did before.
No more lies, no more broken promises
Each false word directed at me, just strips me of yet more apathy
Keep you your deceitful smiles and fictitious kisses
And just stay away from me, you’re nothing but a predator you see
The rage, it builds up deep within
Stalk the dark like a cat each night, dripping with a voracious appetite
But there is no way you're getting under my skin
Your egocentric wallowing in delight, is about to end abruptly tonight
The face of broken shadows stalks the ground
Now I don’t worry about life any more, now this quiet cat finds its roar
Tomorrow is the hunt for a life profound
You pathetic mewing I will choose to ignore, for now I am free forever more
The morning zephyr's touch
Gentle cool blessing sent
Fireball on horizon
Soon heat on earth will vent
Bright yellow now the sun
Roosters' crowing increased
Glad to see the sun up
And feel morn's warming heat
Caligraphy cat comes
To take my pen away
She wants all my time now
All attention no play
Princess jealous small dog
Doesn't want that cat at all
She snarls and snaps leaves lap
Cat just sits on me malls
She thinks her claws feel good
Digging into my flesh
She purrs as if pleasure
She hurts me by heck
He helped himself up to the wind's foremost blow
On a hillock where the moon searched his impecunious pockets,
Waking a flood in his eyes like swelled teats.
He opened wide to receive the Lady, this Endymion cheats,
No worm-wood virus but sweet philtre phials.
Finishing, he is a lover...
He sought the bosom of Erebus in her wildest glow.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.
A scavenger cat clawing a bushman's billy-can
Some hard laid by in his work, purred with surveillance
In disgust over him turning tins over in the bin.
Together he cast the lid by to biltong and raisin:
The cat devours, he abandons the prandial dance.
Pausing, he is a server...
He ate them all like yams those starved seamen.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.
Over the mellowy orchard, for a while he blotted,
Down the glen he skied on the mossy rock
And rubbed clean in the steamy fume of the fall.
Clambering on the paddock, the love-grass over him gall
His rag-patches, bee-combed, mock.
Swearing, he is a dreamer...
He tore tearfully through the palliasse of touch-me-not.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.
Now upon the road of life, he chanced
And espied himself the mutest spectre dust,
Cruising his hour in the propelled sleep of night.
He saw himself waft from this mount to that bight
And saw it was not wont or just.
Laughing, he is a god...
But this infidel purpose of man be countenanced.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.
(c) T. Wignesan - 1948 in Tracks of a Tramp. Singapore-Kuala Lumpur: Rayirath Publications, 1961.
Oh, there it is.
A perfect dinner
for me and my kids.
This slice of holey cheese
no one will miss.
It lies on the rock
a long ten feet away
and though you may find this a shock,
for me life means danger.
You’re lucky; don’t talk.
I look carefully around
but once, twice, three times
nothing in sight but a mound
of hair; maybe leftovers from a hawk.
The coast is clear so I pound
my way over to my dinner.
Cheese, cheese, glorious cheese!
I’m closing in, about to claim it.
Oh! But a screech causes me to freeze
perfectly still from terror.
And out pounces a cat with claws as sharp as a bee’s
“Felicity,” it hisses.
“Juicy mouse, you’re perfect
for the dinner I almost missed.
Come here,” it says.
“I can’t resist
I silently say goodbye
to my kids
and with a little sigh
I think to myself I could never outrun
this nimble cat so I’m about to die.
I wait for death with my eyes squeezed shut
but nothing comes
and I open my eyes to see the butt
of Seth, the farmer’s kid.
He’s scooping up the moody cat
and while he’s turned
I scurry away, shivering with fear and relief from that
near death of mine.
What a shame.
That cheese was almost mine.
But surely I’ll be showered with fame
from my kids, at least,
for my luck that Seth came.
I hurry back to my house.
I’ll live to see another day.
Oh, the life of a mouse!
I know a place where many people would like to visit but cant. I know a place where a lot
of people don’t know I go. I go to this place when no one can get a hold of me. This place
is full of music, it got vivid bright colors. The music plays all the time. I have a
husband with no face and kids with no faces. But lately those faces are blurry. Getting
clearer, at least for the husband it does. The colors though, bright and beautiful, show
all the meaning in this place I go to. The blue so blue that its bluer than the ocean.
Bluer than my eyes and yours as well. The house is built just to my liking. The cat walks
by and looks up at me and meows. The dog barks in the back ground, the fish makes bubbles,
and the kids giggle in the other room. I’m in the kitchen cleaning and making dinner while
I hear the TV on in the living room and he’s playing a game while talking to the giggling
kids. I walk in there to see the colors on the screen of the computer as beautiful the
ones I see. The red of the shirt he is wear and the blonde of his hair. The giggle that
pierces my thoughts and I turn to see the little girl all full of joy. The couch ruby red
just like the ruby I wear around the neck. The diamond on my finger is shinier that I've
ever seen. The earrings in my ears dangle around my neck. Then the cry of the little boy
needing his diaper changed laying on the dark emerald green blanket with the yellow
giraffe on it. In walks the sandiest of brown and white dogs with so much energy that her
face looks like its almost smiling. The cat comes in from the other door and rubs
affectionately on the little girl whose laugh punctured my thoughts just moments before. I
look back at the little boy on the couch whose cries now have punctured these thoughts. I
turn and walk over to him. I pick him up and say why you crying my little man. His tears
fade and a smile comes to his face. In this place I'm finally me and I'm finally happy
again. This is my place and no one can take it from me.
Somewhere in the distant hill
lies a dilapidated old house that might give one chill
An old gentleman and his lady fare
were loners of life because they were the only ones there
Protecting a little child-teen of 13
A lonely nerd or nebbish boy who only dreamed
to make friends with the outside but his inner self hide
the longings of a boy who was too bashful to confide
his parents took him from school because his
school-mates called him an Ugly and a Fool
Together,as three,they lived in this mansion ennui
The tales that can be told of this existence that
has kept them a Dead and one Cold
The Father took him Fishing(out back Yard there is a Hole)
to catch a big one-in their imagination mind-it is only a small peace
that both of them could ever find
Peri-Gonvre,the lad's name..that his school mates mocked LAME
All through the house,a child's laughter that scares away the most
disgusting cat or mouse
Both hands,left and right,has only two fingers each,that God made right
The attic above the 2nd story hall can only fit him because it is
5 inches too small(The Father-KinMen,designed it to be as confining as
the fireplace against the Stone Brick Wall)
Peri-Gonvre uses the room for his 'scape,from the island New England
that wanted to rape:the very spirit and the life of this like
sitting against the darkness,his eyes drifted far from the mortal Pike
SILVIA the feline little kitten coddled up next to him in this lonely Prison
She is the only cat to be allowed,
brighten up his disposition(disperse that iluminnescent Black Cloud)
Angel of the nightly SKY is first to shine upon the loneliness Guy
END OF PART 1
She stepped into the blue ocean of morning,
and looked up towards the sky
& as her gaze moved up and up,
something odd, atop a willow caught her eye
There, in the tall thin branches,
swaying in the wind,
a still & silent tabby was
curled amongst its limbs
She shouted to it, clapped her hands,
her dogs enhanced the sound
but the cat just lay there, never moving –
its silence was profound
Knowledge that the cat was dead
slid slowly down her face
in bitter tears that came unbidden
with grief’s wet, salty taste
She struggled back into her house
through mourning’s heavy waves
& tried to ponder what to do,
and who to call to save
At least the body of this once fine cat,
to bring it back to ground -
She imagined how it sought its safety
then could not climb back down,
& how it sat there, starving, thirsty,
forever trapped in that green embrace –
She couldn’t stand it, went back outside,
but when she looked, saw only space
The cat was gone! Had played great possum,
just pretended to be dead!
And what she’d believed to be total truth
was just a story in her head
Then laughter hit her, exploded from her,
joy blazed throughout her soul
as the crystal blue promise of the ocean of morning
was restored, renewed, and made whole
© March 2006
Surviving in the city
The dog stood on the corner, looking for the cat.
The cat was at the Warf side, behind a fishing vat.
The dog was known as Rusty, an Irish setter bread.
The cat was known as Sylvester, he finds what people need.
The dog needed him a playmate, so he could plant some seeds.
For that the cat demanded meat so fresh, that it simply bleeds.
The dog had marked a hydrant, because the dog was late.
He also do-doed on a lawn that led to someone’s gate.
The cat found that disgusting but Rusty paid his price
So he watched for lady midnight, for she was built real nice.
Lady midnight came up prancing, her tail all in a swish.
He took her for some meatballs, Midnights favorite dish.
Sylvester ran it down, what Rusty had paid for
Her cut would come right off the top, and there was nothing more.
Lady M agreed that she was in that day.
She took a bite then licked her lips and they were on there way.
When Rusty meet with Midnight, she wouldn’t take no sass
If he would get to close, she swished her hips and knocked him on hiss ass.
When Rusty got his chance, he was off before he’s in.
She winked at sly and said to rusty, I hope we meet again.
Everyone was happy, even Rusty wasn’t sad.
The edge he had was ended and he didn’t feel so bad.
Now ain’t that oh so pretty, their life there in the city.
Where Sly and Lady Midnight, finger popped to do-wah-ditty.
I do not know?
Dreams idyllic so weaved....
The sun yet to rise amid the still of an ancients early morn ~
With a train passing by upon this the first day in another falls arrival
And, a little black cat befriended as of late inching nearer now
Hoping for a moment in kindness, a morsel of food, a stroke aneath warmth
Creation touching creation; lucidity; kisses of love....
Gazing into my beautiful Fathers eyes and all which becomes as light ~
Deep inside sidereals mirrored reflection that I find, heavens ever reaching
To caress these spirits and bless their heart; this heart
Searching for the key in this breath to be free ~ As a baby doe
Listens closely unto the hunters explaining just why it is that
They hunt to stock in craft to slay, their innocent precious loved ones?!
While off the little cat goes amid the great unknown yet known; always
Knowing; as the sun makes its way to greet the life of a new borne day
Anointing these eyes and spirits and hearts and souls so weaved ~
Ancient; that they may find as a dream this key within, a mirrors reflection....
....“Idyllic Creations Ever Reaching ~ `Loves, Kiss of Lucidity`” *
I do not know?
There once was a guy named Fred
who liked the color red
he saw a cat
and got a bat
he likes to sleep in a bed.
There once was a house
that had a cat and a mouse
the mouse ran
and hid behind the fan
that cat came out after eating the
It's with the grin of Cheshire
I roll out tongues of glee
and tell the tale of Super Twerp
the Maine Coon wannabe
He is the kind of cat who smiles
at every bag of treats
and growls like baby thunder
when another cat he meets
His owner is Snappy Pappy
who is similar in kind
He chews his Double Bubble gum
and keeps me on his mind
They both respond to sweetness
when it's spoken in my tone
and they both are king of nap times
as they've both so aptly shown
Both will snore and sniffle
Twerp is big and fat
Pappy Snap's a cuddler
and adores his Maine Coon cat
Both of them are called "my men"
It's been ten years gone by
Super Twerp and Snappy Paps -
a kitten and his guy.
Find your ambition
Your life’s mission
To make a difference
To feel passionate
Not to hurt
To feel compassionate
Don’t give in to temptation
Follow your own path
Consult your willpower
Always have a laugh
Whets your inspiration
Cling to your dream
Find the motivation
The cat that got the cream
You can be there
It can be good
You can be achieving
Just like you should
Put yourself up there
Respect what your about
If people don’t appreciate it
Let them scream and shout
You have to take the bad
Don’t lose your aim
It comes by the bucketful
Keep playing the game
When you admit defeat
When you finally give in
You’ve lost all purpose
You’ve got to search within
It’s easy to blame yourself
It’s easy to blame the world
It’s easy to keep shouting
Until you think that you’ve been heard
But think about what your saying
About what it really means
Things aren’t as bad as you think
It’s not as bad as it seems
Stick to your aim
Stick to your dream
Find some inspiration
The cat that got the cream
The cat fell off it's high horse,
it's course of flight only pointed down.
Screeching a sound while it was dragged,
a body bag would be necessary.
But the cat was struck by lightning,
and a single yelp for help issued from it's mouth,
cat monthly front page.
But even though it died twice,
it still lived to tell the tale,
but lost it's tail.
The cat got rabies at the vet,
passed from some god forsaken rabbits,
and had to be put down.
But before it was buried and laid to rest,
it pried open it's eyes and ran for freedom,
leaving a baffled doctor behind to try and comprehend what aspired.
And in it's flight it ran a red light,
and became a rubber guard for a semi's tire.
And even though it died twice more,
it still lived to tell the tale,
and was without a tail.
The cat flailed to free itself from 8 sets of winter tires,
and landed in a desert,
where it ironically drowned in an oasis,
and more ironically was food for the fishes.
And though it died twice more yet again,
it lived to tell the tale,
but was still lacking a tail.
Waking up not yet ashore,
middle of the ocean the cat was bound,
unfound yet by all past owners,
alone it made a raft,
and like a grill,
the cat fried alive,
but before it could be claimed by the sea,
some deep sea fishers caught this cat-fish,
fried and ready for a dish,
but sympathy was on it's side,
and the fishers couldn't let it die,
so they nursed it back to health.
The owners took the cat home,
and spoiled it rotten,
even giving it a tail,
before it rotted in it's mind from a lack of adventure,
and hung itself with a cat toy over it's scratching post.
And although it died twice more,
and had a tail,
it also had one more life,
and awoke just in time to escape a box set for six feet deep,
to go retire it's last life in peace.
The rat tiptoed to the house, picks up a thread
While the soft spoken black cat is, still, in bed
Sleepy, but, she is to battle it, to win, for today
To gain her breath, in solitude, for another day
At first, she will fetch water, from a sacred well
Passing through the silent field of fears, of hell
While the sympathetic morning moon watches
And giving her consoles, with uplifting touches
Of hopes, to warm her shaken, but noble heart
From the cold of early morn, that torn her apart
Before the fading moon could bid her goodbye
Her tiny feet has swollen red, like a chicken fry
The rat sadly waves her bye to the fading moon
She kisses gladly the first crow, with her broom
To sweep the scattered butts, of Marlboro Light
Before favored kitten come, and give her a fight
She uses her magic matches to light the sticks
Delicately set at the center of a three big bricks
Eggs and bacon, with riz Cantonese to prepare
The boiling silvery pot, patiently, waits her care
While the family feasts, the rat runs to the room
To fix the beds’ pleats, and then, she will zoom
To clean the ruin of wars, on the two slab tables
Before, she finds herself drown, in little bubbles
Her paled skin got burned, from the blazing sun
While the soft spoken black cat enjoying the fun
Of watching, the afternoon entertainments show
That the rat never sees, for she has list to follow
But, before the day ends, the poor rat was bitten
By the soft spoken black cat, left.....right up to ten
That made her soul cries, under the mango tree
Hides her tears, in the dark, no one will ever see
Only when the soft spoken black cat’s gone away
Thus, the rat feels happy, for she has time to play
In a world, where no creatures exist, but, just her
She now lives in illusion, in her own, fake laughter
The rat has beaten many times the first cockcrow
For the soft spoken black cat, not to live in sorrow
Till she left her, nothing, but full of fear and wraths
Forever haunt her, even if, she takes dozen baths
O God, the rat has a phobia, ‘cos of this black cat
Won’t you ever pity seeing her sleeping in a mat?
Or when somebody, with shot, scratches her tail?
For I cannot stand, seeing how human beings fail
The black cat leaps across the road
It's worst enemy snapping at it's heels
Wounded cat pulls itself across the white line
Too late, hind legs dragging lifelessly behind
Half filled with life and the will to survive
Half dead and broken
Struggling to survive, his blood spills as does human
Life leaks out
The body lies in ICU
The life still beating through her
The life, machines provide
Thoughts are gone
As good as dead
The life is pumped in
Serial killer caught in the act
The priest grasps hold on the gun
The killer is dead
Long black robes rustle in the wind
Praying over the body
The priest's cross breaks from his neck
Lands on the bloodied dirt
Gods work with Satans sword
The Child is saved
A little Bird,
Moved for living,
He had chosen a tree,
When he saw his native man.
He didn’t frightened,
He welcomed him and sang a song,
Tried to fragrant his love,
And danced on the branches.
One day a guest came,
And parked his car under the tree,
When he saw the bird droppings
He stared into the man’s eyes.
He felt insult,
He had decided to cut down the tree,
He didn’t notice,
Baby birds are growing in the nest,
Tree fell down on his mouth,
They cut the branches in pieces,
When a cat saw the little birds,
They were hiding for their life.
A Man was standing in front,
He didn’t stop them,
He provoked her,
Innocents were her taste.
A bird was crying above the shade,
He noticed, a dog, cat and man,
Everyone was dumb and deaf,
No bird came back to sing them a song.
Sitting cross legged on an upturned bucket
Back sagging against stubborn rough barked old maple
Edges of soles twisting socked feet from worn shoes
Plastic circled reinforcing cutting patterns into buttocks
The shade combined with sudden breeze refreshes
As it cools the sweat wet faded tie dyed tee shirt
Holding the wet cold bottle dripping onto a bare knee
He squints toward the ever present cat pretending to ignore him
These are the long hot days of late Summer
The grass is high and green in places flat and brown in others
Cloth has worn and torn from the backyard golf course poles
Putting is easier on the dried moss greens
Soon the vegetable garden will wither and dry
To reveal at least a dozen lost balls
The surrounding swamp is less forgiving
The ice cold water slides to cool his innards
The cat stretches to lick dusty fur
The pool sirens tauntingly beckon
I am writing this poem for you, but
I don’t know you.
I don’t know what you hate or
love, -white, red, black, blue
up, down, sideways –I just don’t know!
So, I will pick a broad subject
People, yes -maybe even you! You, you, you!
I will write this poem for you and about you!
“You,” you are a person? Right!
There are billions of people on this planet,
tall ones, short, old, young,
fat ones, skinny ones,
some in good health some ill.
Some will die while I write this and
while you read it some will be born.
We are all the same, people are people but
we don’t think alike, look alike, or talk alike.
Some of us love each other, others hate everyone;
most do both unequally –we choose what we think,
and we think differently.
You are smart, you can read
(many can’t,) and you are reading my poem
that is interesting to me.
It shows you have great taste.
You are perfect, smart, good taste, interesting
and I bet you are even sexy.
I bet “You” are too large a subject
for one poem, too complicated, too complex,
so, I will write about my cat instead,
a car ran him over yesterday
he is dead; and I have
a half can of cat food in a plastic bag
in my fridge,
useless and taking-up space.
Off to Kaduna my mind flies,
Off to Zaria my soul first alighted,
Gently ! Gently !! Gently !!!
Echoes the man behind the wheel.
He trudges on day-dreaming
Concerned not about our hues over cries
His pace was like that of a snoring bush pig.
We yawned , jawed but move up
Our faces full of displeasure
The Lagos lady banker took him up
As Alhaja and Alfas added flavour
Can he ever gear up even without bump?
Nothing changes his old leopard nature
I tried spice it up when I woke up
But to the face of him I met no favour
As he shrug off, and belt up
He returned to his snail-crawling seizure.
At the abysmal of his mind
He must be feigning fulfillment
Cat-walking at a speedometer of a tortoise
Fast like an archaic “Loko” train.
To the driver whose forehead reads . . .
And whose lips echoes endlessly
“Its better to be late than to be a late”
For a Life is duplicated not
Nothing is as sweet as cat walking
Snail-pacing in all sojourns.
Alayande Stephen. T
21st ,July, 2006.
En-route my way to an NCP meeting in
Kaduna, the luxurious Marcopolo boarded
Merely cat walked all thorough.
My dog has some grey but looks more black
But the cat is an all black cat
They fight with each other everyday
Some might say this is a form of play
If you ask me i would have to say
I think the cats trying to get away
Like really being pounced by a seventy pound dog
Its like a ten pound cat being crushed by a log
She sneaks by the dog who is finally sleeping
Trying not to make a sound she walks by creeping
Trying to figure out where would be a safe place
The dog up off the floor now it becomes a race
Any where at all this dog is ready to fight
A cat with no claws can only bite
You would think that now she would back away
Not for this dog at least not today
Now the cat was on are bed one summer night
A black cat climbed in are window ready to fight
Around the bedroom out to the hall
The dog now upstairs from hearing the cats call
I quickly scared the cat under my bed
Saving its life and believe me that's mildly said
Closing the door in hopes the cat would come to me
So i could spare his life and set him free
Knowing it was scared i decided to leave it alone
In hopes it would climb back out and head for home
Opening up the door i got a surprise
There was cat and dog side by side
It brought me to realize that what you see isn't always right
That even a dog and cat can be friends and still fight
A red bird lands to rest
Upon a tree branch.
The red bird chirps
For his sibling,
The cat takes notice, quietly
It watches his prey,
The cat figure it had his
Slowly the cat takes aim
And leaps for the red bird.
The red bird takes flight to
To join his sibling.
The cats loses,
But the red bird lives to chirp
Chirp another day..
The cat meow while his stomach
The cat watches for another
Chance to feed his hungry
So, the cat meows hoping
For a meal,
To cure his empty stomach..