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Cat tales
His tounge slurps over the hair.
He grinds his teeth in sometimes
While kneeding and purring.
The hair is everywhere now.
A clump rests over his eye.
I pick it off
As he looks at me
With strange olive eyes.
He lays down yet once more,
Done for the day.
Nothing to think of,
No bills to pay,
No deadlines to meet.
By habit, he decides
When to sleep
And when to eat.
Those eyes look at me again.
How strange we humans must
Look to him.
We rush, we work, and never play.
We eat and sleep when
Our jobs permit...
Never done for the day.
We have one life to get it right,
And yet he has nine.
He came to me with his toy.
He wants to play...
I think I'll cancel that appointment.
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Comment by: - 2007-04-15 11:16
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I've never been one for cats but I can see the envy one could feel for the seeming immortality of a feline.. I thought it was well written and I could picture it ... I'm not sure if you changed the imagery already after the below comment, but to me it seemed pretty good, no need for much change,
thanks for your comment by the way,
Best wishes, jenn |
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Kimberly,
I like the idea of using your cat as a metaphor. Just remember to show instead of tell. I suggest sticking with imagery the depicts your theme instead of using narration to explain it. Make me feel what you feel as we watch the cat. |
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"Blue Water Baptism"
"Blue Water Baptism" is my second collection of poems ranging in topic from views on death, God, friendships, and society. These poems were written in the course of ten years and show the "20-something" state of mind that transitions into a "30-something" mentality.
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