While I was washing roses by the gate
with a dash of liquid Omo on a toothbrush,
fish-heads came to mind,
and I began a metaphysical meander
with just the two of us: my neighbor’s cat and I.
Two chords for self-taught breathing,
causality’s unwound tidal oscillations,
nor birds nor raindrops nor Pangaea:
everyone is waiting for a doorway in the wind,
feather-dusting the furniture for departure.
Self-taught science, so forth art,
henceforth predilections;
a hollow beetle, its midsummer buzz
hyperventilates the unbreathable,
shows you how to finalize the world.
She didn’t like that, the cat:
ending after ending;
lucidity not fluidity,
she preferred.
~/~
She, Felix Sapiens, with a doctoral degree in felinity
(only the Egyptians of antiquity caught a glimpse),
and me, with Omo,
fish heads and roses,
a secondhand bouquet.
I almost forgot to mention
the cat’s communication skills:
mostly telepathic, unless
a parallel scratching was warranted.
She whispered softly inside my head.
Which is the rose’s prima petal?
Where does the deciduous moon
start its orbit?
Collateral questions, contemporaneous perplexity,
and I didn’t like that.
She didn’t wait for my deliquescent thoughts.
Once, when the moon was bloated and blue as the sky,
it made Infinity jealous.
She went looking for Eternity
to clarify the universal observer’s role.
As anticlimactic as an unsmoked cigarette.
Still, I would go with her.
dedicated to the cat
about
- Omo, laundry detergent, copyright Unilever Australasia P/L.
- “Hablar cabezas de pescado” (Spanish, literally, speak fish heads) say nonsensical unimportant things.
- ancient Egyptian cat worship
artwork
the future of green paint (part above), from VEE, the visual evolution engine, with EMMA, an entropy min-max add-on.
Reblogged this on REFLECTIONS and commented:
“She went looking for Eternity
to clarify the universal observer’s role”…Love it!
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Thank you for sharing The Cat, Sobhana. I find a lot of things in life could do with some clarification. Still, I suppose we need some mystery as well.
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Love this poem and art work, Steve! My favourite lines (there’s many more), “mostly telepathic, unless
a parallel scratching was warranted”…” she went looking for Eternity
to clarify the universal observer’s role.”
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Thank you again, Sobhana. This poem is a standalone, unlike the serialised fantasy/sci-fi I’ve been doing quite a bit of. It feels different when I write the individual pieces.
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If the cat is anything like mine, she would have preferred to eat the fish-heads than to hear about them. 😉
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I’ve never seen her eat fish heads, but maybe there haven’t been any actual fish heads around. I think she’s only interested in what’s cool for cats. 😸 (I had to write that because of The Squeeze.)
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I had to look up the reference to The Squeeze. 🙂
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The cat is out… to have a chat with the moon, I suspect. It wouldn’t want to miss the chance to howl at the Super Blood Wolf Moon. Cats and moons are fascinating muses, Steve. I enjoy this so.
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I’m glad someone knows what the cat is thinking. I hope she’s not some sort of werecat though: I imagine their scratches are less than playful.
I had a muse once. She wasn’t particularly impressed with my efforts, but I managed to untie the ropes and swim back to shore. 😸 Thank you, Annie.
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Oh, yes, poisonous scratches laden with spells. (In another life I’m probably a cat.)
Muse, ropes, and shore. Sounds like an adventurous voyage. 😁 You’re welcome, Steve.
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“anticlimactic as an unsmoked cigarette” nice that simile is. Trying to get back into the habit of reading blogs & pleased to see you still going strong Steve, all the more reason to encourage an inveterate habit again.
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Thanks, Daniel, Cigarettes are interesting symbolically. And for finding the time to have a read. I did manage to keep up with once a week over the end of year period, which is always challenging. I do have some work stuff coming up which is going to be yet another challenge…
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Best of luck with what you have ahead of you.
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I’m not surprised so many people like this, How do you think of it all? I love it especially the picture. It is so delicate and puts me in mind, rose petals in a wash of clouds.
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I am perpetually surprised, Margaret. It’s just whatever pops into my head. Wine and coffee both have an effect, but I’m not sure whether it’s a good one. 😸 Wine definitely helps with the panicking when I haven’t written anything though.
Glad you like the artwork, I’m still experimenting as usual.
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A change of direction with retention of deeply poetic skill.
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Thank you, Paul. Have to admit I’m feeling less than skilled these days in a number of areas. I find it is quite different to write one-off pieces, that, perhaps, come closer to my own reality and have a little less fantasy. One thing that remains constant is the pleasure of writing.
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Very glad to read you still experience pleasure in writing.
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Deliquescent? I’m becoming very word-savvy since reading your work! “everyone is waiting for a doorway in the wind, feather-dusting the furniture for departure.” That would be me! And this: “A doctoral degree in felinity.” I so envy them just being who they are. And that last line… Loverly, Steve.
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I’m glad that they are mostly real words in that case, BG. I had a lot of fun writing this piece, and I must admit that I like the characters as well, maybe there is an encore in their future. Thank you.
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Funny thing, I’d scheduled a blog post about a real cat for this morning, which I’d forgotten about. Must be cats in the air! 🙂
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Flying cats—I hope not. 😸
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Sooner like if not in strict form, but in shift of perspective, which all comes together for with these very amazing lines:
“Once, when the moon was bloated and blue as the sky,
it made Infinity jealous.
She went looking for Eternity
to clarify the universal observer’s role.“
Such interesting personifications, making strange sense through a window of felinity, interesting to picture infinity envious of beauty, and then infinity seeking her sister eternity, and what is the difference between them other than the infinitesimal divisions that separate us all? Or was it the moon, or the cat, or the poet seeking eternity? This is gorgeous Steve, too bad I am allergic (really, I really really really want a cat).
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Meant “sonnet like” not sooner like, hehe
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Thank you Lona, I appreciate your thoughtful and thought provoking comments. I find my mind wandering off into a pleasant forest of hidden earlier and later sonnets. And is Eternity at the beginning or the end of time or both, waiting where there is no time, where the sea runs from the horizon? I will have to ask the cat.
I have a lot of allergies but fortunately I’m not allergic to cats. That’s a nuisance, the Buddhists tell me attachment (such as wanting a cat) is the cause of suffering. When I consume wine to alleviate suffering, they tell me I am breaking the precept of maintaining mindfulness. They are spoil sports.
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“And is Eternity at the beginning or the end of time or both, waiting where there is no time, where the sea runs from the horizon?” This needs to be enveloped in a poem, like time within eternity. An achingly beautiful question.
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I’ve been carrying around an image in my head all week of liquid Omo, tooth brush’s and roses all week. The line about door ways and wind would be at home in a sixties folk song . From detergent to cosmic yearning, brilliant stuff, Steve!
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Thank you, Jim. Haha, I thought everyone spruced up their garden that way. With the wind doorways, I have a vague feeling something close is in a song, but I couldn’t bring it to mind.
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(I am currently hosting Felix the rabbit… from a children’s story… the daughter of a friend in the US is doing a class project where Felix gets to travel all over. I was just wondering about the name Felix, and how I can’t get “Felix, the Cat” out of my head since it arrived!)
This is brilliant, Steve. I laughed out loud at the opening, sighed at doorways in the wind, perfect. And well, everything else. Love it.
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A felicitous feline coincidence with Latin sound-alike words I guess. For example, Felicity (my niece), “Happiness.” I don’t know anyone called Felinity, or Felix for that matter.
Thanks, Vanessa. I am a happy cat despite the windy world. 😸
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Your blog is quite a find. My cat Ursula thinks it’s wasted on me.
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Thank you. I think it’s best not to believe cats unless they say something flattering. As it happens, last week, my neighbor’s cat explained the metaphysical purpose of my life to me. I wish I could remember what she said. I wrote it down, but I’ve lost the piece of paper.
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Well, keep me posted. That’s handy information. Some cats do write, you know. For instance toutparmoi.com
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