Just something cute the cat wrote while sitting in my lap and borrowing my fingers. ;)
Two Cat Agenda
they tumble and bounce
fumble and pounce
fur flies
tails held high
claws out
breath like trout
gnaw and bite
dance and fight
eat fur
then nap
and purr
- For Tommy and Gabe -
- … you little brats …-
Wrote this on the way to work while I was trying to wake up. I kept having some train of thought or another and it kept going -poof!- … but even thought I kept losing my thoughts I knew I was losing them. I’d be sitting there going ‘now what was I thinking about…’ but I’d never get it back. :)
I think as far as some of my longer poetry goes I’ve completely given up on punctuation. At least for the time being. It’s distracting and tend to pull me from the meaning between words. Also, I can’t seem to pick a title for this so for now I’ll settle on…
Gone
lost thoughts swimming strange
through murky waters
listlessly
broken echos drift
between walls intangible
slipping away
left open
a gaping hole
wondering
what was
And another little bit, because the rhyme-monger in me just cant seem to help it, that I came up with while at work is:
over fire – under thunder
prey of shadows – sewn asunder
- humanity -
It reminds me of a little riddle or something one of my characters might toy with on and off. :)
i carry a box of words in my pocket
neat and tidy in their square confinement
stirring like smoke in lightless corners
breathing deep the magic beyond the void
they question and crow at the nature of their pointed world
built within the tranquil delicacy of pen to page
strong as stone and more fragile than the spider’s web
clawing at my senses with ephemeral curiousity
tearing through the empty spaces in my mind
leaving no broken ridge or plot hole ungrazed
as ravenous children through the candy store
running and eating- filled only by their hunger
beautiful and ugly, marvelous and terrible
as precious as sand and equal in number
glinting bold beneath the golden sun’s gaze
and glowing holy under at the feet of an imperfect moon
these are my words
carefully kept in a box well guarded
without a lid, without walls
because the universe just isn’t big enough
I’m not even sure I’d classify this as a poem or just a random assortment of words… it’s hard to tell the difference with me sometimes. :) Maybe it’s not very good but I still said what I said and that makes me happy.
So, I’ve been trying to stay away from rhyming poetry as of late because I find it so easy to fall back on and because I often lose sight of my message till I’ve found ‘just’ the ‘right’ words- even though we should all know by now that the right words don’t exist. The art is in painting a beautiful picture with all the wrong ones and letting it shine with crooked light. :)
Last night I woke to find myself at my laptop frantically trying to open some program or another just to type these words- the few quickly becoming the many in just a few short lines. Images assailed me from a particular handful of ideas but as I wrote it morphed and turned on me. This morning as I opened my laptop and skimmed those solid lines I found things I hadn’t seen. It was beautiful.
I’ll tell you what the poem’s based on in a second post because I’m probably going to ramble and I know people tend to avoid longer ones, so if you read nothing else please at least skim my poem. I know my rhyming scheme is a bit childish but the greatest beauty I’ve found in writing comes from not caring about anything but the under-script.
Plea From The Falling
Tell me a darker story
bathed in broken glory,
of opened wounds
and sealed tombs,
tinted with the shadow’s touch.
Whisper to me
my secrets to be freed,
from the hellish twist
of love with a fist,
and dogs for better mothers.
Relive the once forgotten
no more the ill begotten,
with tears and ink
bleeding what we truly think,
before gravity shreds another angel’s wings.
I know it’s not great but I felt compelled to share it. :)
Each poem a purple prayer,
Prayed through weeping lips,
Burning my tongue with sour hope,
Poisoned by the sweetest bliss.
~Spirit~
Breathe it through the ink.
