#blucat
the little blu cat
sits in a shaft
of sunlight
fastidiously
washing behind
little blu ears
with paws
encased
in crushed velvet
the image,
is ....sublime
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 9:08 PM UTC
as i walk past
the almost god of wrinkly
things and his new apprentice,
lying wrapped about each
other, in food filled plumpness, lying sate,
in the morning sun....
i can not but help ponder,
a house cat,
loved through and through, is probably,
one of the highest levels
of reincarnation......
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
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.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC
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.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 2:35 AM UTC
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.
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 4:53 PM UTC
the little blucat
surfaces from
underneath
the pile of
cat's rugs
and
old towels
shakes his head
and stretches
his creaking old bones
before going to sit beside
his food dish and scolds
the day for being so long
and bitterly cold and wet.
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
cantankerous cat,
i am not, your private slave!
who am i kidding!!!
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 3:43 AM UTC
little blue cat sleeps,
curled in the winter sun.
dreaming, big cat dreams,
run, gazelle, run, run, run.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 7:16 PM UTC
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....
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
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
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
there is,
in my opinion,
nothing like,
the determination,
of four and half kilos
of grey feline.
that wants...
to be fed at 5:37am.
the pushing
and bumfping,
the disproportinate roar,
of the basso profundo purr, in your right ear.
if still not convinced,
or just,
downright lazy
a whack with a southpaw
to the back of the head.
your attention will restore.
no you're still resisting
the charm.
then be aware,
of the flying leap & twist; landing on the midriff.
but, from years of dilligent training,
i have deduced,
the cold, wet nose, trailing across my exposed flesh,
is to best be avoided.
simply, by stumbling up,
from your rest....
and succumbing
to the mantra,
the cat knows best.....
fill the bowl,
be done with,
the furry pest.....
and hope you
can snooze for a while,
before.... you have to get up
and feed the rest....
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC
If my cat could open the front door,
A lion he would be, roaming his savanah, stalking prey
If my cat could speak,
The words of wisdom would pour from his jaw,
sage advice and secrets galore.
If my cat could open the fridge door.
He would in heaven be,
a gourmand in a tatty fur coat.
If my cat could empty his own litter box .....
I would be ever so grateful, ever, ever so grateful.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
there is some
uninvited thing
living in our kitchen
gus the little greycat
waged a hissing yowling
war against it at 3am
to no avail
and now sits as sentry
eyes intent.
as i walk past
his snipers position
at the fridge
desperate for coffee.
i know i will
have to don
rubber gloved armour
and go on a recon mission placing snares and bombs but an army of me
needs coffee
to face the tiny terror
in the tupperware.....
and at least
a few more hours sleep.
.....hold your position
sgt guscat.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
my cat has dreams.
while sound asleep,
his little grey legs,
flex and run.
his ears ***** and tail lashes. he chatters that funny little hunter's cry.
sometimes i watch him
and smile,
thinking in his dreams,
he must be a panther or lion on the savanah,
or up a jungle tree stalking his dinner,
as does, a big sleek animal roaming.
some mornings,
when i wake.
from a deep sleep,
of half remembered dreams. i open my eyes,
to find my little cat watching me.
i ponder,
whether he attributes dream's meanings,
to my, nighttime
twitchings too.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
there is,
in my opinion,
nothing like the..... determination
of a four and half kilo
of blugrey feline,
that,
wants,
to be fed ......
at 5:37am.
the pushing and bumfping the disproportinate roar
of the basso profundo purr, in your right ear,
if still not convinced
or just,
downright lazy,
a whack!!
with a southpaw
to the back of the head,
your attention will restore.
no you are,still
resisting the charm offensive.
then be aware
of the flying leap&twist;, landing on the midriff.
but from years of dilligent training (on the part of the cat).
i have deduced....
the cold nose,
trailing across my exposed flesh is to best to be avoided.
simply by,
stumbling up from your rest
and succumbing to...
the mantra,
the cat knows best!!!
fill the bowl,
be done,(no never)
with the furry pest
and hope...
you can snooze for a while
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
rendolent of
stone grey gargoyle
he lies lizard flat
melded to the sun warm
cement by comfort
lassitudinally positioned
to collect sunrays
occassional movement
but as little,
as possible of that
have to say
i am awfully jealous
of that little blue cat
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 2:09 AM UTC
the disquiet...
of the morning,
awakens me....
the magpie's squabble...
the wood pigeons.... cloying...
.. cooing love song..
the raucous, cacophony... of
the kookaburras ....as they sort out .....todays..... territorial hierachy...
........... all proclaim
morning has ......broken
.......in a sleep shattering... way
but... still ...today.. i try to eke
out ......a few more winks
....a few more.... .....moments....
of.... semi-conscious bliss
oh! .......... to .....close ....my eyes
and ....dream some more...
....but no!!!..... the cat
........is having
....................none of that.....
the birds are up...
and he........ housebound....
is hungry..... hungry...hun..
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 5:29 PM UTC
when we have people come visit.
i find myself saying, normally, somewhere
within the first half hour.
the following,
in one form or another;
let me explain about the cat. no he is not unwell,
nor does he have a skin condition.
thats the way they come, devon rex's.
yes i know,
they look like
little *** bellied men,
who having been,
startled by the ringing,
of the front doorbell.
have grabbed their
wife's tatty chennile bathrobe,
but then have not,
tied the sash,
so now show,
an almost, indecent
amount of wrinkly flesh.
yes" their fur is so soft, like down,
except for the front paws they are like crushed velvet gloves.
no i am sorry,
he is not a climb up
and snuggle into your lap cat he is a more of a,
stare at you, weigh you up,
find you wanting,
until it's all becomes,
sort of awkward cat.
if he does happen
to approve -
and in all honesty,
he probably won't.
i don't want to get your hopes up,
but if he does,
you will be presented,
with a token,
it may be a lizard or a bug
or moth, but pencils, a sock and pet ***** have also been gifted.
yes, he is unusual
but that is
the beauty of the breed
and the beauty of the Gus,cat.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
we went shopping this morning,
then to the movies.
all the time,
the little voice in my head
was telling me,
i had forgotten
an important chore.
we were gone three, four hours.
the little voice niggling away.
got home just now
and remembered
as i opened the front gate.
forgot to lock the catflap
gus's in/outdoor.
well, by now, its far too late.
you see gus,
the little grey cat
is a collector, not a
hunter of things.
if god forbid,
he were a dog.
he would be one
of those retreivery things.
he finds and he brings,
normally to his food bowl.
so now, we are in the kitchen
and were taking stock.
one mangled penny lizard
and two other tails.
one drowned moth,
one feebly swimming still
three dazed cicadas,
one belly up and by
the sound a few more yet
to be found
a praying mantis, sans one claw
and something else,
mushed into the floor
a magpie feather,
but,(thank god) not the bird
our little grey cat,
flat out on the mat.
it has been a big morning,
no doubt about that.
he sleeps on, oblivious.
as we his minions,
clean up his mess,
as best we can.
from experience the lizards,
find their own way out.
the cicadas, we find,
when they sing
their discordant song,
reminding me, all day long
my little voice,
not ever wrong.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
my cat has woken up with a complex,
as they sometimes do,
he tells me there are monsters living behind the loo.
underneath the fridge a troll or buggedty boo.
he shows me how,
to walk very, very slowly
so they don't take note of you.
he warns me, that the sky above,
is full of a ghostly zoo
and that you must watch yourself,
as they are accurate with their poo.
finally he says to me,
i will stay by your side,
so that way,
when the cataclysm comes
and the pale horses ride
- they will come for you,
giving me the time to run and hide.
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
grey is the day,
bleak is the heart,
rough winds bellow
and sadness stirs.
the little blue cat,
burrows
under the doona,
rejecting the light.
i turn and leave,
for work
wishing i was,
a little blue housecat.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC
in the moist dank
hours, of this
rainy night.
the shadow
cat-blue,
has sought, the
high planes of
the house
and can now be
found, only
by glaring
lantern eyes.
we search
and find
him, nestled,
on the second, to
uppermost stay,
of the third
bookshelf,
in the study.
he has filed
himself,
between,
ogden nash
and proust
and it is there,
he plans to stay.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 4:56 AM UTC