Paws in the air, tummy exposed to the sun
Heather Mirassou
Heather Mirassou
Aug 1, 2010

Hershey, black satin, as long as my torso
Diamond green comforting eyes
Velveteen curious nose
Tongue like a pumice stone
Her elegant but waddling stride
Powerful, confident and territorial
Sitting like a queen on her throne
Cat of mine, mother to be

Tuxedo, black and white, bow tie and all
White sock covered feet like satin gloves
Long white elderly whiskers
He reminds me of Fred Astaire
Quick calculated light on his feet
Shy yet debonair
Patient, watchful and full of pride
Father to be

Oreo, friend and foe
White as snow, black face and tail
Large circular patches of black
Fearless fence and roof climber
Youngster full of mischievousness
Paws in the air, tummy exposed to the sun
Purring so loud she vibrates
Kitty of mine

Heather Mirassou Copyright 2010
The graceful thud of your paws
Ed Coles
Ed Coles
Jan 15, 2013      Jan 16, 2013

You were a shadow to me,
You would follow me without question
Around every corner and on the fold of a bedsheet.
You would leave the house
Explore a tree
But you always left a trail of pinecones
To find your way back home.

The graceful thud of your paws
On my sleeping body,
Black fur darned with white socks
And I loved you,
I always loved you.

Life had dealt us a silent friendship,
Language was our deficiency
But we made it our own
Speaking through pupils
And reading the curve of our bodies.

And you were small,
You were always so small.
The runt of the litter
But you had the personality
To kill all the demons
That had scattered in my head through the day
And lull me back to sleep.

This knot in my stomach,
And the tears I concede
Are all for you and I don’t want to stop.
I will atone for every summer as a child
Lost in a dizzy haze of fun,
As you sat in the window
And waited for me.
Just waited.

Now it is my turn.

I saw you break into a shadow of yourself,
Even smaller every day
As you faded away by degrees.
I saw you fall limp into a dreamless sleep
And now as you are buried beneath the snow
I hope the first thing you see is me sat at the window.

when you realized that the same sweater paws
heather leather

you asked me the other day what depression felt like
and i told you that it was like drowning but
you could see everyone else around you breathing;
you stared at me then, pity in you eyes
but also wonder almost as if you were seeing
an artifact in a museum, you looked at me
that way because i had not told you the rest
i didn't tell you how close i came every night to
giving in to the voices in my head or how
whenever i was scared i would run a knife along my arm;
not to cut myself with it but to feel the cool against my skin
i did not tell you that my life became a movie flashing
before my eyes that night i accidentally drowned and
how it took six months of Death knocking at my door
for me to stop and to realize that this was a problem
i didn't tell you any of that because then i knew your eyes would
widen when you realized that the same sweater paws
you would tease me about were there for a reason and then
you would look at me, with understanding in your eyes and
sadness too because then you would realize
that i wasn't an artifact in a museum or a war veteran
i was just a girl with large sweater paws and a tight lipped smile

so maybe it is better for you to believe that i am an artifact
because maybe then i could still wear sweater paws
without you questioning me too much

(h.l.)

"what's depression like?"
"it's like drowning except everyone around you is breathing,"
^random story that i can't remember oops

my hands weep broken
as pointless aberrations of creation
they hold not just the rasp of time
but the soil that drips through their grasp in memory
they loved the flowers that once bloomed
in reality unable to mourn the loss
fruitless trees wither and die the same
old age is but a rain cloud above candy floss

Silent paws trotting
Cynthia Wales

Silent paws trotting
on a well beaten trail,
alone in the wilderness,
so young and so frail.

Little yips go unanswered,
the moon is now his guide,
looking for ones just like him,
or have all of them just died?

He sniffs the dampened ground
and senses man everywhere,
the silence is deafening
no howls in the air.

Oh why did he venture
so far from his den,
while his pack fell silent
at the hands of men?

His stomach is growling
but the hunger he’ll endure,
his pack family is out there
it’s their blood he smells for sure.

He stops in his tracks
and raises his head up high,
the terror overwhelms him
as he lets out another cry.

But still there’s no answer
he can’t understand why,
he’ll follow their trail
or he surely will die.

For days now he’s traveled
his spirit and body gone weak,
he lies down in white clover
no more energy left to speak.

Soon the soul hovers
over this tiny, frail pup,
whose future now will be guarded
as his soul travels up.

What right does man have
to take life from a living thing,
that has no way to voice its defense
against a human being?

The wolf is a symbol,
a brother, a friend.
it’s time now for action
before his existence comes to an end.

Ed Coles
Ed Coles
Dec 25, 2013

In lapse, we bought gifts
in threes for what is two now,
on the first Christmas
without you around.

And in lapse, I see you
in those shadowy doorways,
and it scorches now,
without you around.

Oh, your silent will
gave forth to what is true now,
over the ground
on which you have run.

Oh, my patient friend,
I'm still sitting at our window,
on this first Christmas
without you around.

For paws, bright eyes,
Katlyn Orthman
Katlyn Orthman
Sep 2, 2012

I was aware in the strangest way,
For paws, bright eyes,
But no words to say,
Knowledge replaced by instinct,
Tame replaced by wild,
I was a beast,
No longer a child,
But I wasn't afraid,
Just so confused,
If this was dreams joke,
It must be amused,
But this felt so real,
And so natural,
The need to run with my freedom,
Clinched in my bones,
I wanted to feel my feet,
Hit the grass and the stones,
I wanted to thrust my head back,
And let out a roar,
This was freedom,
I could not ignore,

come mu-khee mu-khee!
where is the walnut?
squirrel's paw - my palm.

Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic beauty
Haunter
Haunter
May 9, 2012

The world
is a stage.
Patiently waiting
for
You.
To take the mic
and be the star
You
are.
Art is the
nuclear bomb
that can
silence those
shit spreaders
&
shut em' up
for good.

 
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