kerkevik_2014: (Woman_of_ and I)
Another one from Scottish Cats; different poet though.
This is dedicated to my dog, Tuppence; Bimbo, my cat, and Tessa a doggy who seemed as though she was around for ever. I'm sorry that I had to end your lives; sorrier that I have so few tangible memories of you, now that mine is failing. I will miss you always.


Otis by Hamish Whyte

I'd like to see you in my dreams, old cat,
nose pushing at the door
in welcome, warming your snowy
underside at the fire; ginger hovis
on my lap. Instead, I can't help
seeing you in your last minutes
staring at us with blind open eyes,
wheezing as your lungs shut down,
as all of you shut down,
your chin coming to rest
on the table as the drugs took
hold, put you to your dreamless sleep.


Hamish Whyte (b.1947)



Goddess watch over us all,
'tis ok to be Takei,
Kerk TehKek
kerkevik_2014: For Friendship (War Horse)
Sleep evades me, so I shall post this now. Second poem from Scottish Cats; second by Valerie Thornton - must find out more about her.


The Cat's Tale by Valerie Thornton

The cat doesn't understand
about reading
or the space between
my eyes and the paper
or the stillness.
The silence.

She pops up
between my propped elbows
soft as peach and ashes
under my chin
executes feline twirls
then lodges her tail
below my nose
so I can smell
how clean she is.

She sits on the page
translates the words
into thrumming
cheek/butts my nose
jaggy/licks my eyelid shut
and spins me
a compelling tale
of love beyond words.


Valerie Thornton (b.1954)



Goddess watch over us all,
'tis ok to be Takei,
Kerk TehKek
kerkevik_2014: (Courtney Love Black Queen)
Feeling Feline-friendly right now, so here's the first of some poems from a collection called Scottish Cats published in 2013; hardback, by Birlinn.


Familiar by Valerie Thornton

When I lie on the rug
the cat settles
in the small of my back
and we are a camel.

When I sit on the chair
in my big woolly jumper
the cat burrows under
and we're seven months gone.

When I stand by the window
longing to fly
my wings are rolled up
purring, across my shoulders.

When I'm trying to sleep
on a cold winter's night
I am near stifled
by a rumbling fur hat.

When I'm cooking our fish
and she tries to be slippers
I am a stumbling monster
she, a mouse under the dresser.

Valerie Thornton (b.1954)


Goddess watch over us all,
'tis ok to be Takei,
Kerk TehKek

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