Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Don't Know What It Is, Need To Know

Two poems quickly done in the afternoon of Dec 15. So it stopped being heavy. Don't know why it started, don't know why it stopped. I've been trained over a couple decades now to say ouch when it hurts and laugh when it's funny. Do you realize how many people need to retrain, just to do that?

The first poem is about being open. The second is one of the ways to shut it down.

Don't Know What It Is

This day feels special,
Though I can't get hold of it,
Don't know what to say.
Goldfinches that flock
To the seeds I've given them
Might say it's the food.
My old cat at rest
Might say no, it's the heater
That bathes her with heat.

It might be sunshine
Lifting snow directly up
And lighting my eyes.

Don't know what it is.


I am so special. Heh. I go places that few ever go. But I can't tell you. I keeps my secrets.

Need To Know

Wormhole sucks. I'm gone
Twisting down the light, like lines
Drawn in a cyclone.
Can't say how that feels,
Well I could, but then
I'd have to freakin kill you.


  1. The cat, too, she keeps her secrets. If she told you what really made the day special, well then she'd have to kill you, too.

  2. Michelle, you are a snorter??


    By the way two more of you guys have joined up. I have an Australian contingent.

    I learned something about Australia awhile ago. I understand that Australia is the oldest stable land mass on the planet, with the least volcanism, and surface turnover as happens nearly everywhere else, that when colonists came they were fooled by the mature forests and all into thinking the land was far more lush than it is. Partly that is because the land is ancient, and partly it is because the atmospheric dust of other places doesn't reach, and partly the lack of volcanoes doesn't help. When Australia was left alone its wildlife built a self sustaining ecosystem that looked really rich but human industrial farming hasn't fared as well without lots of help, the land alone won't sustain it. That's what the book said.

  3. Rachel, not my cat. She's far too old for any serious effort. She doesn't even worry though that I might find out. She lives mostly in my garage, but in the day the garage door is cracked for her and the good dry food I put down is for her and all her "friends". She actually doesn't have friends but she doesn't keep them out either. Why? See above.

  4. Dubious fealty

    You think it’s just the tins of fish
    I stick around for, that any lap will do.
    A cat’s loyalty goes as far
    as her stomach, you say, scratching me
    behind the ears
    before you toss me out the door
    to sit on the neighbour’s fence, or under
    a low bush napping until
    the hummingbirds come round,
    those little jewelled snacks.
    I’m the first to admit
    I wouldn’t pass by an offer
    of cream and kibble, but you see
    old man, just because I take it
    wherever I can get it
    doesn’t make it love.

  5. Probably not your cat, but your poem took me there, hehe.

  6. The second poem made me smile :)

  7. I don't know if wormhole is a place or not, but it reminds me of spelunking or rappelling into a cenote. If it's NOT a real place, it's a great metaphor for sinking into those depths within. Yes, it's humorous, but I can see somehting else there, too. Maybe I just need to lighten up?

    I have a theory that my old cat will be the only thing left in my house someday. He's already 15 in human years and, while not as feisty as he once was, he still holds his own.

  8. That's a wonderful poem Rachel. I guess the question would be, what signifies love in a cat? I have had them around my whole adult life and am sure there are people cats (minority) and place cats. My oldest died at nearly 23 years and the last two years of his life he moved next door mostly. The attraction? Heat. They used a parabolic heater and that's where he stayed, next to that heater.

  9. Karen, a wormhole could be those little holes through the ground with lots of worm feces in them but the term is used in theoretical astrophysics for tunnels through folds of spacetime that gets you from here to a very far away there faster than light travels. And you are right of course. Why not read symbolically. Then it is something else entirely being said. I would say what, but then I would freaking have to kill you :)

  10. Ghost, That was not one wormhole, that was a nexus, kind of like that scifi gate only a lot less disciplined. Scary place for all its beauty. An agent could get lost there, never get back home. But who the hell gave you clearance? Are you watching your back?


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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