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"tailless" poems
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and terrorized a white cross-eyed tailless cat I took him in and fed him and he stayed grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway and ran him over I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much chance...give him these pills...his backbone is crushed, but it was crushed before and somehow mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody cut it off..." I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any- where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to him and gently touched him and he looked back at me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went by he made his first move dragging himself forward by his front legs (the rear ones wouldn't work) he made it to the litter box crawled over and in, it was like the trumpet of possible victory blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that bad but bad enough one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and just looked at me. "you can make it," I said to him. he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested, then got up. you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in his eyes never left... and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed, shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look at this!" but they don't understand, they say something like,"you say you've been influenced by Celine?" "no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by things like this, by this, by this!" I shake the cat, hold him up in the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows... it's then that the interviews end although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo- graphed together. he too knows it's ******** but that somehow it all helps.
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20.4k
The History Of One Tough ************
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and terrorized a white cross-eyed tailless cat I took him in and fed him and he stayed grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway and ran him over I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much chance...give him these pills...his backbone is crushed, but it was crushed before and somehow mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody cut it off..." I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any- where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to him and gently touched him and he looked back at me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went by he made his first move dragging himself forward by his front legs (the rear ones wouldn't work) he made it to the litter box crawled over and in, it was like the trumpet of possible victory blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that bad but bad enough one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and just looked at me. "you can make it," I said to him. he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested, then got up. you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in his eyes never left... and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed, shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look at this!" but they don't understand, they say something like,"you say you've been influenced by Celine?" "no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by things like this, by this, by this!" I shake the cat, hold him up in the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows... it's then that the interviews end although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo- graphed together. he too knows it's ******** but that somehow it all helps.
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It didn't start off with a white cake carrying forty-something candles Rather, it was the chimes of the phone alarm later, a cold run through the foggy streets then back home to nurse the joint pains The phone buzzed with messages first from the wife, then my best friend, then my brother, to whom I got to respond "and the same to you too" then my ghost friend, who only sends a message on this day, each year before vanishing out of my life I'm home today, having a party of sorts with the twin monitors and the tailless mouse At least they look dressed up for the occasion sitting on the workstation in their black soft-plastic jackets They don't dance or sing or even mumble anything They only look down at my fingers going back and forth around the letters of the alphabet as I go to work while sitting at home At this age, I muse to myself some people don't want to remember how they have moved closer in the journey towards forgetting one's name, family and eventually how to eat And almost imperceptibly we have become the dad, or mum or auntie that we looked up to or held under the magnifying glass and judged for their decisions on our lives But now I'm only trying to live in the moment as I pour a bit of whiskey swirl it around gently in the glass, watching if it shows within its brown circular current the regrets of the past or the shrouded future and hopefully, the number of my age
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May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 9:22 AM UTC
Birthday In My Forties
I thought that I would be happy to find What I thought to be the end of my search Distraught, a sad, and lost, tailless feline Whose whiskers when in dark will make me lurch Instead of clear and happy carefree days The tempest that I feel inside my being I question if this is the right of way Results I heed are sitting unforseen To tumble back to where I once began Traveling to a wider range of sea I’ll cast my line with bait of truth and love And see what type of rarity will be Maybe this catch will be willing to stay And i’ll vow not to fish another day.
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Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 11:43 AM UTC
Cats Fishing Blind Sonnet 1
nonchalantly, and with a nimble stride, the lizard crossed my path at great speed, it's tailless torso, made it to the cover of desert cactus the momentum of this little creature was stunning the desert floor is packed with amazement of all kinds Brian Hill - 2020 # 167
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Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 9:38 AM UTC
Desert Floor
I saw a squirrel without a tail, running on some powerlines. He didn’t seem to really care, that his **** was missing a puff of hair. Cause he ran as fast and jumped as high as any other squirrel. So it made me wonder, why the heck do squirrels have tails at all. I thought it through and realized It doesn't matter if theres one or not. A squirrels a squirrel dangit
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC
a tale of the tailless
She stared at the roof beam, The wood that was once a tree. A tailless lizard came from Behind the beam to look At her for the umpteenth time. Kitta kitta , said the lizard She who had become 'it' stared Unremittingly at the beam That was once a forest tree. The beam looked at the lizard. The continuum flowed endl’ssly .
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Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 8:58 AM UTC
The death of a woman
. Set aside time for celestial night- A million years to name every star, Time in your eyes make them seem very far- Preparing your soul for astral flight. Tantalize your skies with your tailless kite; While Orion is preparing for war- And nobody knows just what war is for. Discovery has been my life's delight! To gaze into sky that's as black as tar- Pinpoints -of- light... everywhere that I turn; And the cage of my chest feels very tight. You turn the key and you have the power- Everyone wants to see Jupiter burn. Ah! It's going to be one hell of a night! .
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Jan 27, 2010
Jan 27, 2010 at 1:00 AM UTC
~To Name Every Star (*a Sonnet) ♥
/// \\\ • ||| ||| <> \__________ /\ /\ this is my rendition on BERYLDOV LEW' s famous painting TAIL-LESS HORSE WITH A YOUNG GIRL's FACE •• •• The store sign said CHEAP LIQUOR He didn't know why but he joined the army •• • He dreamed he was writing haikus In the mountains The starving child in the alley •• Americans are ********* ! After the flood A dove was flying in the blue sky •• A breast in one hand A ***** in the other Time to wash the dishes ! •• BERYLDOV LEW ! Strikes down the heathen ! A tailless horse with a young girl's face races by
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
ain't it so - joe ? ( or moe ? )