Golden Eyes (day 2983)

Feline looking back at me
Eyes as golden slits
White as snow could hope to be
Puffed lips that cleverly pursue
Delights to lick upon.
Inside those eyes a softness
Always an open thought looking back,
Tenderness in each step
When good company is there, present,
But when the night’s hour
Ticks down another day
Footsteps become loud thunderbolts
Cat’s meow into the night.

Woman (day 2971)

I don’t know how to tell you
That I see stars inside your eyes.
Every time I watch those stars
A galaxy opens up for me
That spins and whirls
And ignites with life;
Burning orbs in orbit.
And in those eyes
I’m met with joy
Such that astounds my every moment
Like a little cat jumping around
Playing amidst daylight’s echo.
I’ve searched for words
And folded my letters
To find the galaxy I sought to describe,
But in doing so
I’ve learned so well
That no mortal man
Can articulate
What woman holds in her hand.

Secretely (day 2349)

Secretly I whisper to the eyes that hold but little space for me
An awareness that belongs not to my soul of desire
But to a lost alarm clock beckoning for another hour
A window catches a blinking light somewhere in the horizon
While a cat sadly roams about the hall with a limp it cannot heal
Desolation is a lingering affair amidst night before’s busy streets
Where once fireworks begged for mercy in the air like dragons nightly play
So I shall talk at odd volumes to hear my voice again
Though no memory shall recall the words that secretly danced
Amidst uneven sidewalks of a forgotten despair.

Filled (day 1739)

A long lifeless walk
Held my hand
As I began
My casually glancing around
With two by two
And one after you
In a game cat jumped over the moon.
Twigs and branches
And needles doing dances
For the stoop of my boot.
Till the hour I find
A guest on my mind,
I’ll return to an abode filled with warmth.

Mt. Fromme - Ned Tobin

The Purr of Gaia (day 1672)

Dear George,

The letters from Salem finally arrived today. I had been preparing for them all week – harvesting a few varieties of toadstools in the forest around the area.

Bonhomie fills my heart this time of season. I wear my warm clothes and delight in an extra cup of coffee most days. Are you still exploring your art of the bean? I have started to use a scale to measure proportions for my perfect cup of coffee.

As I read through the hand written letters, the snow started falling here. Big large flakes that have started to stay on the ground, lazily floating there chaotically.

I love this time of year. The browns are so dominant, lacking most any signs of the lush green foliage of summer’s heat. It soothes the black heart inside of me, calling out to me slowly as I imagine the sweet embracing, icy fingers of Gaia as she slowly settles into fetal position – eyes flickering slowly – for a calm rest. Much like the feline.

I saved a feline from certain death two weeks ago. It had come pawing at my door after I fed it one lonely night. I had seen it fishing in garbage cans for luck earlier that week. We tracked down the owner who said it was left behind during a move half way across the country.

Can you imagine the absurdity of that? Moving half way across the country and leaving without your cat?

It’s a beautiful cat with the fullest of coats and a purr that shakes the icicles from sweet Gaia grip as she slowly settles into my black heart.

I look forward to hearing from you soon. The lovely sketch that accompanied your last letter was so enchanting. I’ve had it sitting on my windowsill since you sent it.

Much love,

Lizarious

Hand Stamped (day 1533)

This works along the outlier,
A hard gamble with two cigarettes
Dangling loosely in his left hand.
This pulls hard on conscience’s trigger;
Chrome circles and hand stamped VOID
Letting his tight heart
Make shadow puppets on a busy street corner.
This walks home lonely,
Clip-clopping a sweet tap-tap-song out
With rats and harmonized spray cans
Keeping alley cats tempered.