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You cleaned the box??

OK, so I lost a bet. TW DID remember to clean my litter box. I think she did it on purpose. Now I have to let TW use my blog for her evil purposes. She has decided to—gasp!—share one of her poems from the stone age. (Damn, I thought I hid those things where she'd NEVER find them!) Mariodacat's M had expressed interest on Twitter last year in seeing some of TW's poetry. She will now learn why I hid those poems so well that it took TW an entire year to find them. The Woman was going through her dippy hippy—or is that hippy dippy?—period and needed a miracle to pass high school English. She couldn't parse sentences or conjugate verbs, so she wrote "poetry." (Heh heh! I put quotes around it because it's still my blog.) I give it a D. Without further ado, I give you TW! (You can have her, if you want, but you're gonna have to support her. HAH!)
See, I'm asleep already. Wake me when she's through. Zzzzzzz …
Thanks, CK, I think. I wrote this in the early '70s. (No, CK, that would be the 1970's, not the 1870s). When I re-read it today, it took on new meaning after hearing all the news about the Christmas morning fire in Stamford, CT, that killed 5 people, including three little girls.


Burning embers fall on the charred grass
But me—i see beauty.
There once stood a house
full of little children
playing, laughing, running
But those children grew up
Why must i—shall i—grow up?

The trees heard the whispering
of the flames already surrendering
to the men in yellow and the flow of their liquid
They once were children too
Laughing, growing, dreaming
But the world—did it make their young dreams come true?

[i'm forever asking questions
whenever the planet's silence is broken
It happens a lot—but maybe not enough
True love may move mountains
but until now, i've tried to not believe it.]

Once a playhouse whose rooms were alive;
a fireplace that went unconquered
For once it warmed—then it grew like
the children who basked in it's glow
It's enthusiasm soon was extinguished.
As i grow, will mine also vanish? the child asks herself.

© by The Woman

Is it over yet? BTW, this was the only time I ever laid in this $100 bed.
You wanna make this a monthly feature? Over your dead body, woman! Ahem! *relaxes arched back and tail returns to normal size*

CK back in da house! Do I have any followers left? Time to wake up! Helllllluuuuuu … (to be continued)

Would you like to comment?

  1. Oh CK - give TW a break. That was good. Yes, she should do it once a month. (CK - shhh - I had to say all that in order to get a treat tonight.)

  2. Efurrybody deserves the right to express themselves, CK. Sorry, freedom of speech and all. Once a month isn't too bad to turn the blog ofur in the name of poetry.(pleez don't hiss at us)

  3. My Human is an English teacher. She teachers Honors American lit to juniors and Advanced Placement English Lit to seniors. So she know a thing or two about poetry and she enjoyed this. She is totally in favor of MORE POETRY in the world, so she votes for a monthly feature. And she has the thumbs so I have to go along.

    About the powder: The Human says if your Mom puts her finger in it and rubs just the tiniest bit on a washcloth or paper towel, she can kind of give it a little test-run. But you know, if it's going to make her worried about you, I am sure you can get quite high enough on regular catnip, CK! MOL!

  4. I think if your human wants to put her own poetry up, she should start her own blog and do it there. Oddly enough, my human believes that if she did that, other humans would actually go over and read it! Imagine that, wanting to read about something other than cats! But you know, humans can be a little bit strange.

  5. Thats really good!!! not as good as the photo of YOU, of course! But still good!

  6. I concur with Sparkle. I think your mom needs her own blog, like my mom has. We'd both like to read more of her poetry.

    Your mom has all sorts of things she could write about that aren't about you. No offense.

    Cokie =^..^=

    Sure had fun with you at BlogPaws.

  7. TW needs her own blog. She shouldn't be hijacking yours for her poetry. When I come here, I want to read about my pal Cathy, not some hippy dippy poetry. *hugs*

  8. TW didn't embarrass you, surprisingly. We took a vote, and we liked the poem. I let mom take over our blog now and then, but TW is a real writer. I am sure you will win the battle of the blog!
    Love ya,

  9. I thought it was darn good CK, so maybe monthly wouldn't be too bad. That would give you a nice way to lead in and tell us all about the upcoming poem (wink, wink)!

  10. CK...have mercy, TW's work was good. I would like to see it once a minth myself.

    xoxoxox Mom Carole

  11. It was a pretty good poem...but sorry you lost a bet; I hate losing!
    I stopped by becuase I saw your title and well, I have to say I think I'm pretty stunning also since I kinda look like you!

  12. Hi CK, Well we see things are running about 8-3 in favor of TW's monthlee poetree feature. We are not sure how to count the Lounge's vote--I think it's a con rather than a pro but we are not sure so we won't count it.

    That's a pretty snazzy bed. Are you SURE you don't like it? What if I came over and cuddled up wif U?

  13. However did I miss CK's Red Period? Well, alas, once the Human gets into full-on work mode, she really can no longer be relied upon to do my bidding as I wish her to. She begins to slack off, to not help me visit my furiends every day, to value her own interests over mine. It's a sad world, CK, a sad world.

    I was a little disappointed to hear that nice beddy's gone. But, as you say, to a worthy cause. Still. . .

  14. My Mom has tons of books on poetry as it was a thing with her for a bit so I think she would like a monthly poem in your blog.
    CK you could have different sleeping pictures to go with the different poems.

  15. Wow, didn't realize TW was a poet too! I would give her an A.

  16. Uh CK, I really likes TW's poem...does that mean I'm in the dog house?

  17. I love the photos on you CK and my mom loved your mom´s poem :)

  18. I know it's going to break your heart to see me write this, Baby Girl, but I love TW's poem. FYI, word on the street is that HHGut helped her find her well-hidden poetry.


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