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betterdays Nov 2014
best way
to describe him
charlie chaplin
wearing stan laurel's
black and white suit.

black hat, white gloves
funny walk..
does not say much
but forever making us laugh

he is just not sure,
why that tail thing
follows him everywhere...

loves the blucat...
the blucat tolerates him
but is warming by the hour

he is tod's new cat...
the blucat....gus  is
geting on and prefers
to sleep...
timothy tuxedo
(he was going to be captain wrinkly drawers....but sanity
prevailed...can you imagine
standing at the the back door
and calling that cat..)
...plays
until he drops...
this will be a good thing

once tuxedo boy stops living
in the bottom of the shower...
that is his prefered quiet spot....
timothy tuxedo is our new
devon rex kitten....will try
to get picture soon
betterdays Sep 2014
one eye open,
jackhammer in brain
....appears to be blucat
purring.

i see,
my hangover
has not....
diminished his,
need for food.

one eye closes,
drifting off again,
my head, so heavy...

one eye open, again.
whaaa...!!!!
staring up at,
a wrinkly bald blucat belly...
his front paws, on my forehead
backpaws, top of my chest.
still purring...
so not,
letting me rest....

determination...
thy name is....
hungry kitty.
.....the thing that annoys me
is ben was up...
he had fed the dang cat...
but he, the cat.... wanted more...
betterdays Sep 2014
he cleans his paws,
with a delicate pink tongue.
always the left first.

he is a cat of order,
not for him,
haphazard ways.

i sometimes wonder,
how he survives,
in our chaotic house.

but then,
i see him hidden up
high in the bookcase
watching us all, beneath him
dashing madly about,
with amusement,
quivering at his whiskers.

and after all...
he is...
the god of wrinkly things.
betterdays  Nov 2014
tuxedo boy
betterdays Nov 2014
soft soft softly
he creeps about
the edges of the room

finding his way....
with the precision
of a Noh dancer...

as the blucat watches
with gestapo stare...
the new kitten...
black and white
tuxedo...not quite right
all wrinkles and fuzz
and fffft, ffft fights

the blue cat...
old cantankerous king
looks at this scrap
of a thing...
growls, deep
from his belly rotound
turns his back...
in overstated disgust....

that wrinkly thing,
is not one of us!!!.....

later in the day...
i pass by the same way
to find blucat and tuxedo boy, wrapped up asleep
in sombulant joy...
new kitten...also a devon rex
has been accepted into the clan....
betterdays  Aug 2014
blucat#1
betterdays Aug 2014
cantankerous cat,

i am not, your private slave!

who am i kidding!!!
betterdays Oct 2014
the argent sun,
has chased away
the piccaninny dawn
and is now lazily,
racing the clouds
to the apex of
the bright blue sky.

the dew is drying
on the grass
and the blucat
is seeking his first
triumph over his
lizard foes.

we sit on the back deck
eating a simple breakfast
cereal and toast.
while surveying
the burgeoning wealth
of our vegie garden.
tall shoots of corn,
and tomato vines,
laden with fruit,
just begining to blush red.
lettuce protected,
within their plastic tube forts
and carrots with their wavy
heads....
and overlaying all,
the smell of citrus,
both lemon and lime.
then, the heady fragrance
of the papaya trees
and the passion fruit vines...

we acknowledge,
with thankful hearts,
we  live in a little corner
of eden....
borrowed for a time....

then to break our reverie, the blucat,
drops a squirming skink, tailess,
on the top step
a murps his triumph...
and the kookaburras laugh
.......long and loud
betterdays  Oct 2014
fishkissing
betterdays Oct 2014
it is sunday morning,
early....
the boys, still asleep
the nanna,  still asleep
just me....
and the recently fed,
but hoping for more,
blucat shadow,
walk in the garden,

leaving imprints in
the dew laden grass.
i make my way,
with murping shadow
to the fish pond.
we, sit upon the rocks
and watch the koi,
glide smoothly by...

i slowly introduce my
hand,
to the still night-cool water and wait....
for the fish kisses.
the blucat is entranced,
eyes intent on the slow moving tails,
ears forward and twitching....

overcome by
such blatant tempatation,
he makes a swipe
at the gold and black  
goodness.....
and in a flash.....
they are gone ....and he,
is left sheepishly licking
a wet veleveteen paw....

back to me....
not wanting to
see me laughing
.....at his foolishness.
he has never once caught at fish....but does not stop him
trying....lol
betterdays  Sep 2014
the standoff
betterdays Sep 2014
i come home
to
a mexican standdoff
of
sorts

on the inside
of
the window
the
little blucat
with
firebrush tail
and
arched back

facing off against

the big
busterfer jones
tom
from 3 doors
down

black
and white
persian
moggy
more than
twice
the size
of gus blucat


pressed
up
against
the outside
of the glass

normally
the
best of buds
but
there is
a
new girl
in town
and
she sings
a siren song

so it is
bared claw
at 3 paces

as i
put down
my keys
there is a
muted
thump,
thump.

they have
rushed
each other

forgeting
the magic
of glass

and now
as i
finish
r.o.l.f.ing

i see
they
have
retired
to their corners

with that
was'nt me
that did that
dumb thing
look

as they
wash their
paws
with backs
speaking volumes
and eyes still
crossed.
both cats are neutered
but still
in spring they dream....
betterdays Oct 2015
awakened by the purr
of the little blue cat,
seeking warmth,
on this crisp spring morning

we, the little blue cat and I
take our breakfast outside
walking across the dew damp grass
to sit at the old wooden table

he, steps high, waggling his feet
me, i step deeply into the grass
enjoying the verdant, green smell
that rises,
enjoying the brief  commune with
nature
enjoying the return to childhood

we sit, companionably, eating
he leftover roast chicken,
me, purlioned cocoa puffs,
my son's saturday treat,
that he will surely never miss

as we sit, the sounds of the world waking
drift past us.
windows opening, the snort and cough
of an early rising smoker, cars starting
the birds chat and chirk, and the plop
of the fish as the break the surface of the pond.
the garbage trucks stop and start trek up the street.

and now in the house, the radio, and kettle begin
a shower turned on, a bass voice sings, not well
but with joy.

now the day has truly begun...
one last mouthful of half remembered childhood
and then back to the daily grind
as the sun makes it's way past the low lying clouds

the blucat, chooses to stay, out watching the birds.
betterdays Aug 2014
he, my man, my atlas
holds up my world
with all encompassing love

he, my boy, my hermes
his smile brings messages
of love from the lips of heaven

me, all creative curves and
fertility...
goddess of hearth and home
hestia, in modern form, i be

he, little blucat .. bast
all compacted and wrinkly
a reminder....of fidelity

then out the back
in a temple
her own
mother god
now become crone
but ever loved
and worshiped

here at #259
we reside almost gods
yet biding the devil's own time
i know...the mythology is all over the place....
betterdays Jul 2014
the sun streams
through the curtains
in a cat sized patch

and there we find him
this connoisseur of apricity
stretched and flat
drinking of the winter day's
meager glory

tail flicking on ocassion
and one eye open..
to the possibilty
of bacon on the run.

he is now of the age,
where he needs warm
his bones ,
before he thinks of...
completing his  yoga
and cleaning down there.

so the little blucat
has become a master
at fitting his body
into any sliver or ****
of winter sun ....

and is often found dozing.
..or as elliot claims,
contemplating the depth,
and meaning of his name....
betterdays  Jun 2014
5.41 again.
betterdays Jun 2014
i wake up at 5.41
again...
curled up in my armpit
the little blucat
blusfully happy
loud rumbling purrs
assure me of that
on my other side
asleep with head
resting on my belly
my soon to be
four years old son
i lie awake
in the dark
smiling...
surrounded by love
and wait for the kookaburra's call
linked to 5.41am
betterdays Jun 2014
the salt tangs and swirls
in the mist
giving the world outside
my door
an ocean lisp
all the tree's now indistinct
and ghostly
all the world now mostly
secrets and whispers, soft this morn
the cloud have come to visit
and the sun....
he is up there somewhere
the little blucat has made
his decision....hibernation
is the mode of coping...
the boys of the same intonation...
who am i to disturb the flow
....back to bed with book i go,

— The End —