I no longer
wear hats
or drink from cups

the eyes of cats
are searchlights
and curiosity
is killing us

Black and bruised cats are collecting in the streets
as they try to hide from the two-legged monsters,
Onto the frigid ground these felines lay so sweet.

Now, these cats are innocent beings, but the world still sees
these rulers of the night as demons, the haunters.
Black and bruised cats are collecting in the streets

to pray for poor Lulu, once a gentle and upbeat
stray, now nothing more than a beaten piece of meat, a goner.
Onto the frigid ground these felines lay so sweet.

These two-legged fiends thirst for the warmth of blood, to defeat
the plague of evil omens these cuddly harlots seem to foster.
Black and bruised cats are collecting in the streets

sick and mangled from the Devil’s calling group, two-legged deceit,
what was thought to be love was in truth, an imposter.
Onto the frigid ground these felines lay so sweet.

A fluffy body hung from the balcony by a copper cable marks the ritual complete, the black tufts of fur serve as a reward to those monsters.
Black and bruised cats are collecting in the streets,
Onto the frigid ground these felines lay so sweet.

THE LONELY KITTY

I AM A STRAY KITTY
PLEASE DON'T LET ME ROAM
I NEED A LOVING FAMILY
AND A PLACE TO CALL HOME


I HAVE BEEN ROAMING THE STREETS
SO VERY LATE AT NIGHT
ALL THE PUPPIES BARK AT ME
AND GIVE ME A FRIGHT

THE DOGGY MOGGY

A CAT IS A KITTY
A DOG IS A DOGGY
A DOG IS NOT A CAT
AND A CAT CAN BE A MOGGY

A CAT IS CUDDLY
A DOG IS CUTE
BUT WHEN BOTH ARE TOGETHER
IT IS A REAL HOOT

Northern roared in today;
Whipping winds whistle & moan.
Clouds tumble and roll
Like waves.
Feathers of Darkness &
Feathers of Light;
How blustery cold.
Winds whip the leaves
To freedom & they dance
And spin & spin & spin
In the air and streets.
Cats smile into the sky.
Old nests like husks
Made of dried leaves
Lay strewn like tiny coffins,
And the air is cold, dry and
Electrifying...
Rushing wind splashes my face,
Northern spray slaps smartly-
Stinging and reddening cheeks & eyes.
Summer heat doesn’t die quietly,
And cats smile into the sky.
Death crunches sweetly
Under rubber tires.

© Lesley Wood

https://soundcloud.com/lesleywood/jets-overhead-vs-lesley-wood-cotxetxe-mashup

Tawny,  I stretch,  I yawn,
No need for this cat to fawn,
What's for tea? I don't say please,
Feed me, or I'll give you fleas,
Once a queen of Egypt, somehow,
Hello there, humans, cat says meow.........

I really thank you ***** cats,
You've said your bit, that's that,
You've toughened me up, all right,
Tell me something I don't know, you uptights,
Have you got your rags on again?
Let's send you ***** cats down the drain,
I'd really like to thank you cats,
You've toughened me up, that's that!

He was standing at
  the front door,
  but watching the cat
sitting on the rocking chair.
It was black and white
  and looking out onto
  the green grass, or above
the apartment complex,
or beyond it, at the place
  his mother was, somewhere.
  He didn't have to jiggle its handle
to see if the door was locked,
to know if you weren't home.
  But he had locked you out of his heart
  for so long by then, that
hating you for locking the front door
would have been ludicrous.
  He was just tired,
  not only from a long day at school,
but also from asking the
neighbors for a bite to eat.
  The cat flicked its tail in
  drowsy agreement. It never
came in, but he never tried
to make it come in anyways.
  By then it was too late
  to care about cats
in rocking chairs.

You've got a white scarf, but it's unreliably so
I could count on it to be white for many years
Until last year, when it didn't quite resemble snow
It changed colors, and brought up many fears
Like will you make it til tomorrow?
and will you still be here?

You used to wear it like it embodied majesty
Like you were a lion and it was your mane
Curling around your neck and screaming of divinity
I know that mane better than I know your name

(buddy)

The leaves will change and your scarf will too
Your head will bump mine, and I'll bump yours too

I'm running from my thoughts and the truth
This might be all for naught and tomorrow you
Will be here still, and I won't have to say goodbye
To your scarf, your mane, our collective life

Maybe your heart will still be kept in mine,
Released only when our heads collide

Your personality is truth
Your personality is you
I try to ask others to be like you but they can't
That plight is wrong and an ineffective chant

Your heart, your personality, your truth
Will be held in my heart regardless
of whether or not tomorrow I see you

And I do see you.
For a while there, you were hiding behind your disease
But now you're able to come out of your shell with ease
And now I can have another collection of moments with you
Your personality
Your truth

And you are truth.
For a year I thought you were gone and that the next
Moment I saw you, you'd be descending into a grave
You would be gone and only accessible through memories
Your truth
Your personality

And you are personality.
It pained me every time I saw you, thinking I wouldn't see
It and how you walked and how you cried for water when
You needed it. I'd trip over you, and trample you, but you
You are truth
You are personality

You're here today, eternally in my heart
You're here tomorrow, and when we are apart
A year down the road, and a plethora more
You'll be in my heart forevermore

The part of me that you bring out will never exist again on this earth
And your white scarf will never be seen by my brown eyes
But I can hold you here
Right here in my heart
And you can pur
And I can contemplate when you'll bump my head again

And just what are you expecting to see?

Two eyes just like mine, hands that ache to feel flesh, there is something to fabricating  love,

Adequate to say that these threats will go unheard, and through the years I'll get to say I told you so, yet I still feel like a failure,

Cross check the references, comb the referrals, you've got the experience for every job but the one you want,

I find security in preserving the real me,

Over thinking on what should be said next, when just their presence will suffice, trying to explain to yourself how to not sound crazy, all the while talking to yourself.

We all do it,

Some things are better left in that awkward silence, the longer it holds the more said than words could ever entertain, no pure thought is safe,

An invasion that's become obsession,

Even if I tell you all my secrets, there is still apart of me I'm missing, not even I can find it alone

My ego tends to show through,

I get it confused with my personality, which in turn doesn't show much as my skin, cursed to oblivious stares,

Then again I've been talking to myself,

Usually just saying hello, possibly singing some tune, or my favorite describing exactly what I'm doing in confusion,

"What am I writing?"

A taste of reality from the insomniac ramblers program, a show free to watch, and real physical participating with the whole gang,

Hold on tight to this thread,

Your future with me will not be what we expect, I recommend strict regimes for personal viewing times, our minds are hesitant to believing what's in the mirror

I see me, and I see you