Author Information
Archibald
Stalking moles like big game
in the Serengeti,
you are hunter and angel,
killer and the softest of souls.
Always posing, you lovable
ego-maniac,
your fairy-sized thunder
on my lap
as I embrace the lion,
now reduced to a whipped-cream
ninja in my arms,
is a cure for this
chain of days
that makes me feel like
your trophy prey
in a makeshift, plastic
paradise we accept like
lobotomized cadets . . .
marching, marching always
in a bubble of pain
and marching still.
Thank you for showing up,
my Atlas to a world
unhinged and falling.
Thank you for being the
kindest light between
the rocks.
I will serve with respect.
I am honored to be your
faithful human.
Patricia Joan Jones
a world in words
"lobotomized cadets . . .
marching, marching always
in a bubble of pain
and marching still".
a world in a few words
Thank you for your beautiful
Thank you for your beautiful soulprints.
I hope the cat is well. You
I hope the cat is well. You have honored him in this poem, and, I suspect, he knows it somehow. I once heard a comic say that the ancient Egyptians worshipped cats, and since then no cat has ever forgotten this. We lost one of our cats to a freak accident just down the road from our house.
J-Called
So sorry for your loss. I
So sorry for your loss. I know the pain, and it is as difficult as losing a human friend. Thank you for reading and sharing that fascinating story.
Yes it hurt bad, especially
Yes it hurt bad, especially as I had to witness it. But thanks for understanding, and for posting the poem.
J-Called
Thank you for taking the time
Thank you for taking the time to read this and for your encouraging comment.
Poet As Painter
"...the kindest light between the rocks..." - enjoyed this point and counter point
giggling...
this just gave me a big chuckle
Copyright © JessterStarshine
Thank you for reading and
Thank you for reading and appreciating this.