Kitty Litterture Cat Site

As anyone that has written poetry knows, much of it can be and is used as a means of working through loss and grief. It is no different be the loss one of love, a family member, friend or a beloved furry family member. With that in mind, a number of my poems are just that. Since cats have been an integral part of my life, my family, for most of my 46 years and given the sheer number of them I have held dear to me due to my efforts to save as many as I could, my losses have been many and likely many more than any "normal" human would have endured in this amount of time. So yes, this is a sad-sack page...please be forgiving and lend a gentle eye as you read through the pages of my heart.

The Hunt

Curious and cautious
Stalking the stalker
Into the light
Beyond the dark
We are the few
The chosen who
Grace your life
And tear our your heart

Photo of Cats in Hunting Bees in Lavender

Broken

Oh my heart
My aching heart
How can you pump
Life through
My battered veins
When you have
Been torn
In two
And scattered
To the breeze
Like the soft remnants
Of a tormented
Dandelion
How can I
Forget
When pungent
Tears
Are a constant
Reminder
Of your brief
Existence
Within my world
How can I
Forget
The day you died
In my arms
And left me
Forever

Circe

Leaving home is coming home and
It's all the same movement of
Pulling in and pulling out
A left turn
A right turn
A wrong turn
That is a dead end
A heartache of my own making
Put away your eye pencil
You don't need it when you sleep
And the chatter in my head
Is the chatter I heard everyday
That was so insignificant
But today it means everything
On my dead end street

*When the rain stops
Your head will be in the east
When the night falls
Your feet will be west bound
I'm holding my breath
Afraid to look at what I've done

Bathing in water isn't nearly as satisfying
As bathing in guilt but
Neither can cleanse the soul
Like a dependable friend
Offering comfort
An old friend
A bold friend
A comfortable crutch
To lean on, a rotting oak tree

*

And the day has come that
She can't turn the men to swine
Her magic suffocated
A day of remorse
For the light and dark
And all that is true
Drunken sailor understand
That she took you, rewarded you
But now she is dead
Her beautiful power swirls and drains
You're on your own

Photo of Manx Cat

Clovis

Warm summer sun
Sparkling
Through swaying limbs
While
Adoring beams
Dance
Across Moist earth
The vision
Of a
Small soul
Lingers
A fragrant memory
Held close

Regal

And so it is said
That a King lies dead,
Wrapped in funeral fineries
His soul was pure
His persona, demure
Yet bred of royal lineage
Tears come forth
From the South to the North
Two hemispheres united in sadness
His subjects mourn
Their hearts have been torn
Such shall pieces can ne'er be mended

Horus

On this day
The vibrant colours
Of the fall leaves
Faded
To Brown
Withering
Into winter slumber
Harbouring
A spring phoenix
Patiently waiting
To arise
From smouldering ashes

October

And she once said
That she hated autumn
For everything dies then
And I had said
That I loved autumn
For it was beautiful
But in the end
She was right
Everything does die
In the autumn
How can it be
That I have become
This lover of death?

Shovel

How dare the sun shine
Upon this sullen day
Engulfed by cold earth
Falling against worn metal
My heel
Too tender for its years
Nevermind,
For always I will stand
At the edge of the storm
Shaking my fist
And cursing the wind
That carries
Those who are dear to me
Away from me
Oh how I despise this sun
So antagonistic in its efforts
To show itself
During this desolate season
My heart yearns
For a temperate region

To Dream of Mo-Dean

Indian summer breeze
Whispering
Across downy softness
Cool blades of green
Tickling delicate undersides
Wild and erratic
Alive
With wide-eyed wonder
Perfect day
Left only to memory
Forever leaving
A song wandering through
My waking moments
Stirring
That which is within...
Is that you?
It's me.

Mr. Renfield

Venturing towards the wood
Searching for a sign
Of life
Of death
Accepting any morsel
Knees to earth
Tears to soil
Years to come
A light-felt footing
Upon my shoe
A breath to my face
Carry me onwards
Only a gentle knowing
In the recesses
Will tend this open wound

Photo of Cat in Wheelbarrow

Victorious

Draped in velvet,
The warrior proceeds
With unfettered passion.
Casting off her weapons,
Dignity becomes her shield,
Determination her sword.
No foe
Shall tarnish her glory
No defeat
Shall claim her.
Proudly
She remains
Victorious.

Visions

'Crossed an harvest field
I see you
Crawling, belly to the soil
Footed snake, slithering
Hiding twixt spent stocks
Of golden waste
A shade of your own making
And that of the duly fated afternoon sun
Can you see me?
I am waiting.
Waiting for your call
To ring through my ears
Which have been deafened by your absence
And its maddening silence.
Or is it wishful psyche
Cutting through time and imposed boundaries
To invade denied reality?
Torture to my sight?
Are you there?
I am waiting.

Photo of Cat on Garden Bench

Watchers

Barren trees
Solemnly guard
The horizon
Silent witnesses
To those spared
To those taken
My heart
Hangs heavy

Pet Sympathies

Many years ago I wrote some verse for pet sympathy cards. The following is such.

Verse 1
They are not ours to own
We cannot bind them
We are so very fortunate
To have been graced by their presence,
Humbled by their magnificence
And privileged to have known them

Verse 2
Our friends are not ours to own.
We are but their loving protectors,
Fortunate to be graced by their presence,
Privileged to have known them.

Verse 3
May you find comfort
In reliving precious memories
And peace in knowing
That you were blessed
With the opportunity to have made them

Verse 4
To be touched
By unconditional love,
However fleeting,
Is to be blessed
For a lifetime

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