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Fey Jun 5
On a rustic bench there laid
a single cat of dire age.
Between lushful green she gazed
longingly into the distance - as if
far away she would catch a glimpse
of home to reside in irides of an amber lynx.

© fey (05/06/22)
A B Perales Apr 15
The cruelest
of all things
is the short
amount of time
the Gods
have allowed us
to spend
with our pets.
how I miss her
negra kitty 2006-2022
Anais Vionet Apr 4
It’s a Saturday afternoon worth waiting for. It’s 52°f and the sky is clear except for a scattering of popcorn clouds. I’m eating lunch with Sophy, Lisa, Anna (my roommates) and Peter (a friend) at one of the two residential dining halls that have the best pizza (yeah, you KNOW who you are).

We’re touching base before we scatter, shrapnel like, for the night. I’ll be hemmed-up by circumstance and in my most diligent work-mode. I have a presentation due Monday.

Sophy says, reading from at her laptop, “Research suggests that cat owners are seen as better looking and have more ***.”

“I have two cats,” I say, “at home.” I preen in my double-catness.

“I’m a cat owner!” Anna announces.

“My cat DIED.” Lisa reveals sadly.

“THAT cat did its JOB,” Sophy pronounced saliently, as if proving the studies validity.

“I grew up in a cat house,” Peter says.

“Ooo! YOU must have learned a LOT!” I say, batting my eyes seductively.

“Maybe we should get a cat HERE!” Sophy suggests.

“To cement our status!” Anna laughs.

The pizza was really good.
BLT word of the day challenge: Salient: "of notable significance."
George Krokos Jan 31
The birds in the backyard often look there for food
and it seems they're doing so lately in a happier mood;
it was just the other day when I mowed the grass
so now they can move easily over it again and pass.
Their activity is done habitually each and every day
and watching them closely seems as if they're at play.

They scrounge on the soil with their beaks and feet
competing at times for some bite and morsel to eat.
When disturbed by a sound they fly up into any tree
away from the threat of danger they scamper and flee.
A human presence would be enough to get them going
particularly when heading in their direction knowing.

It's a bit of a delight to see them at play in their quest
doing what they all have to do to survive hunger's test.
I used to feed them some crumbs on a regular basis
which became a habit for me to them as in an oasis.
Together with water left in a plastic bowl for a drink
they'd a few things going for them one would think.

It was only after the local cats caught onto the idea
with their basic instinct, that food or game, was near.
One of them would come around and hide in the grass
crouching there patiently for the right moment to pass;
if the birds were unaware they would fly down to eat
of the crumbs left for them so their hunger could beat.

The cat seizing on the opportunity then would by surprise
spring up and race after them as food or game in its eyes.
There would be a mad scramble and loud flutter of wings
as the birds, escaping from that danger a predator brings,
would scatter and fly away as fast as they could to where
they'd be relatively safe from the clutches of death there.

Sometimes when looking out the back window I'd see
a cat roaming in the backyard in the shadows of a tree;
this would be enough warning for me to raise the alarm
and get out to try and keep those local birds from harm.
I would do this by chasing the cat away over the fence
so the area would be clear again for the birds I'd sense.
_____
Written in December, 2020
Cozy, snuggly, curled up tight
People think I'm sleeping, but that is far from being right,
With one eye open, the other tightly shut
I plough the very trade refined by every cat.
Quiet adoration amongst the whispered sighs
For this wonderful creation, nature's wily prize.
And all the while I'm lounging, perched upon my throne
Surveying my domain from this place I call home.
I'm fed and duly watered, patted when I wish,
My life a constant slumber, something I call Bliss,
As to these poor humans, scurrying around
Their feet so often frantic, they barely touch the ground,
The one piece of advice I freely choose to give,
Is simply look at me and learn from how I live!
am i ee Dec 2021
Feline Love in the time of LEDs


“Honey, I’m just not feeling it”.
I said this silently to her, constantly.

“The moon and the stars and the planets
sing to me, an orchestra of nature and
eternal time intertwined.”

“Mother nature directing this divine symphony.”

“These new lights just don’t do it for me.”

Finally she noticed,
the great change in my mood,
feeling something amiss,
something terribly, terribly amiss.

She packed us up,
and into the caravan we went.

Rustic canvas over our heads,
wood burning stove next to our bed.

Ah, finally the life of traveling the paths,
living by the light of the fire,
the gentle descending of the night.

Tuned into mother nature’s time,
soft, peaceful and divine.

We traveled here and traveled there,
over many a year.

Then one night ,
One full harvest moon night,

High on a cliff,
Deep in the night,
Silent and still and cold,

She shed every stitch that covered her frame
And opened her arms to the celestial rain.

Rays from heaven pouring down,  
illuminating her shape,
saturating Earth’s lovely ground.

Dancing about,
surrounded by stars twinkling,
Milky Way flowing,
With not a trace of restraint,

The moon and stars and the night
sang to her soul,
sang to every fiber of her being,
sang to her every bone.

‘You see, Mother Nature knows the cycles that feed the soul.’ I  whispered to her,
in my softly purring voice.

‘This is what I have been trying to tell you for all these years.’

Waking from this trance,
She tapped out a message,
read it aloud,

I QUIT!

I quit designing LEDs and the bright artificial lights
that destroy the glorious night.

I quit this nightmare of a job!
I quit this life of a thief,
this one of stealing the stars!
I quit this very night!

That is,
unless I’m allowed to design the
smart dark-sky friendly lights
that I so love now,
that bring such subtle delight.


She threw her smart phone over the cliff,
this device hurtling down so quick,  
shaking the very earth with each bounce to the ground.

As she stood bare under the moon,
Bare under the stars,
Bare under the planets
And bare to Mars.

For the first time in so many a year,
I jumped up sinuously,
right up,
straight into her arms.

Startled,
she laughed with such joy,
hugging me close,
so close and so near.

My lovely silky fur,
warming her frame,
warming her heart.

Snuggled so close
and snuggled so tight,

I purred once again
out loud on this night,
in absolute delight.

The ground rumbled beneath
the two of us,

shaking and quaking
the earth so near.

The stars up above
twinkled with joy,
at this sight of loving tight.

Dancing overhead,
streaking through across the sky,
celebrating on this night,

one more little human
remembering again,
the magic and mystery,
of the black sparkling night,
spreading out forever above.

We danced together under the
rejoicing stars,
holding each other tight.

My sweet, now smart,
little human
and me.


~ the Feline
Anais Vionet Nov 2021
The elevator opened on the 46th floor, to a small foyer and one plain, grey door

The door opened and a young girl, 10ish, in a blue, polo, tennis dress, said, “Hi! I’m Karen, you must be Anais. Will is around here somewhere. Aren’t you pretty, though? You go to school with Lisa? No wonder Will likes you.”

She skippingly ushered me from a bright, windowed, off-white, staircase entryway, into a deep-red, mahogany paneled library. A persian cat was soon underfoot, purring and winding around my legs.”That’s Misha,” Karen said, “just shoo her away if you don’t like cats.”

I stooped down to pet Misha who eagerly offered herself to be petted and admired. As I stroked her charcoal fur, Karen said, “Let me get Will,” as she scampered off.

A gold framed, impressionistic painting, pin-lit in bright crystalline light, hung over a fireplace. In the painting, two girls, in summer hats bright with startling red bows and yellow flowers, were sharing a book. The colors were rich, deep and swirling - it looked very much like a Renoir (I know my French artists). He’d done a whole “two girls” series. I drew closer - it wasn’t a print.

Though dazed by the opulence, I hadn’t missed what Karen had said. Will liked me. I longed to interrogate her about how exactly she knew Will liked me, and what form, exactly, Will’s liking took.

I know Will and Lisa (who would be joining us in a minute) are just friends. Not that it matters, we’re heading back to New Haven later - but Karen’s statements were capable of activating a girl's guy-dar.

Karen, wearing socks but no shoes, came to a sliding halt, on the wooden floor, by grabbing the door frame to stop an otherwise complete slide into the library. “You guys are going to the Ritz for lunch?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder, in a way that indicated that she knew the answer quite well.

The Ritz Carlton is a block away and our mission was to grab the food and bring it back here to eat. “Mind if I join?” she said, before I could answer her first question, all wide-eyed, blinking impatience.

“I don’t mind at ALL.” I said, Karen whooped and was off again down the hall. “I’M COMING TOO!” she yelled. I chuckled, knowingly - I’ve been there - I’m a little sister too.
u-life on thanksgiving break
frog Sep 2021
my cat sits in the windowsill often.
i wonder what she thinks about
while laying in the light
of the setting sun

does she dream?
does she think about me?

when my cat sits in the windowsill
i appreciate how pretty she is
with her black and white fur
and yellow eyes

i like it when she gets distracted
by tiny things
like birds or flies
or the neighbours cat

if i were a cat in a windowsill
i think i would be at peace
wes parham Sep 2021
Horrf, my friend, don't keep it in,
Horrf, the sound eternal !
For, soon, what once adorned your skin,
Shall be, once more,
External...
Cat owners will understand.
PSA time, though:  frequent hairballs are not normal.  Have your feline friend checked out if they are chucking that sick on the regular.
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