Poem: Kitty Reigns in Full

Kitty Reigns in Full

Napping of an afternoon on the couch

Recovering from a night of mousing

A yawn emitted from that haughty mouth

Breath of rodent, content from carousing

Through the night enjoying sun from the south—

Just a stretch, a movement now returning

To the daytime snooze of full contentment

Of mice populations having made a dent.

Sure, she sharpens claws on the armchair there

And makes it look a sight not fit for house

But we never worry about chewed holes

In the four sacks or mice droppings where

We don’t want them, because there is no mouse

Anywhere here where kitty reigns in full.

January 2023

About This Poem

I was inspired to write this sonnet because I had read another sonnet about a cat. I don't have a cat anymore, but I have had mice in the house. This poem is just an homage to cats and the relationships people have with their cats. I am definitely a cat person.

 

Poem: Shadow Box with Emily Dickinson's "Banish Air from Air"

Shadow Box with Emily Dickinson’s “Banish Air from Air”

I was just sitting at the counter there

When—Banish Air from Air—he came upon

Me—Divide Light if you dare—But I saw

Fate, oh yes—They’ll meet—it said there to me.

And I knew—While Cubes in a Drop—like sparks

Glinting—Or pellets of Shape—Stop floating

And just then they—Fit—like in a movie

Yet—Films cannot annul—reality

Entire—Odors return whole—when He

I smelled—Force Flame—into my ignition

So felt—And with a Blonde push—felt his voice.

It rushed—Over your impotence—and mine

So that head—Flits steam.—In a rush of strength

I took Him, for that moment, He was mine.

January 2020

About This Poem

This is a shadow box poem using Emily Dickinson’s “Banish Air from Air.” I think it’s both an example of how a poet can influence you and how you can absorb that poem. Of course, this one may be a bit forced, but it seems a little more organic to do that with one of her poems that escapes my full understanding. I was able to force a meaning onto it in almost an act of violence. That certainly is not my style at all, but with this it seemed to work. The pronouns can be switched into an even more forceful meaning that would seem to consume the poem—almost desecrating it, even as it stays completely in tact within my exoskeleton of my own doing. So in the end it maintains, even gains strength for me.

 

Poem: and then what happened

and then what happened

was-

and then 

what happened-

an' then I 

was thinkin' 

that it was

feelin' better.

I was 

feelin' better.

I was just

let alone.

So my mother 

bought me an ice cream

an' I bought myself

an ice cream

and I ate that.

I thought that

would make me

feel better.

I was all

shuup, shuup, shuup, 

you know,

and then,

you know,

just all of a sudden-

an' then

I started feelin'

real

sick.

I just got

this 

terrible feelin'

after I stopped 

eatin'

ice cream,

and what not,

like

Oh shoot!

Oh God!

About This Poem

I wrote this poem in the mid 80s, so it's old. I was given a story to read and I took some of the dialogue and reworked it into this poem. I guess what I'm saying is that ice cream doesn't always make you feel better...  The picture is from Faneuil Hall in Boston (one of the oldest markets in the country) in November of 23.