Resolved

The poetry prompt today was to write about resolution in some way. In my instance, we had a problem resolved; our cat, Suzie, went missing around Christmas.

I have my theories on what happened to her and where she went. Below, find my Roundel on the subject. ^_^

I just wonder where my cat went.
We found she was gone at meal-time.
(To her to miss meals was a crime
yet, we missed her hungry lament.)

No hair we found, or sign or scent.
We called and searched the alley grime.
We found she was gone at meal-time.
I just wonder where my cat went.

Back home after eight days, nose rent
and scarred, hungry, fur-begrimed,
No sign of where she’d spent her dime.
To Narnia? To Time-Lord lent?
I just wonder where my cat went.

Tardis

Circles II

Another poem came bubbling up, forgive the pun. ^_^

 How to Have Fun 

With a loop, metal or plastic
or even made of pipecleaner,
dip in the soapy water
and blow through the
circular
hole
forming
bubbles.

Sometimes one
giantenormoushumongous
bubble
and sometimes just a few
little ones jumping out,
solitary and staid,
and sometimes
a long skein of bubbles
flying forth in a crazy-long
line, tangling
mixing together and joining/separating
randomly.

The dog will try to bite them,
more serious than playful:
they are his mortal enemy.

The cat will be curious,
of course,
and reach delicately with nose
or paw
and once splattered
will scatter
to a corner to (huffily)
clean the moisture
away.

The children will laugh and giggle
try to catch or pop
or herd
the bubbles,
always begging for more,
more,
or
let me try!!

Good vs. Evil

Well, the prompt was “Good vs. Evil” OR any one thing pitted against another. I’ve written two, quickly today. No time!

Johnny B. Goode’s ’59 Cadillac Coupe de Ville

Goode vs. de Ville

Plaintiff, Johnny B. Goode,
has brought suit against
his Coupe de Ville,
claiming it
“did not make him
look as cool
as he ought to look.”

The Coupe had no defense.
It merely pointed out
that Johnny
needed no help
at all
in looking
like
a
fool.

Waiting at the Door

In vs. Out

The eternal dance of
a cat or dog
who is allowed
freedom of the yard.

In or out?
Out or in?
They hover on
the door step
thinking,
wondering
what they
really want.

And all you really want
is to stop waiting
(and waiting
and waiting)
on them.

April 2, Visitor

The theme of the prompt today was “visitor.”  I have two that popped into my head, unfortunately in doggerel verse. Can’t help it, that’s just the way I roll sometimes.  Enjoy!

###

Unwelcome

I know you’re there.
The cats are aware,
they’ve found your lair,
they watch and glare.

It may not be fair,
don’t mean to scare,
but you haven’t a prayer,
mouse.

###

Surprised to See Me?

Come in, come in,
please be at ease,
please let me get you
wine and cheese.

I know, I know,
my home’s a mess
but I don’t care,
don’t like to stress.

I know that you
came to see us,
not our unsightly
detrius.

Don’t waste a thought
just be at ease.
Don’t look around,
here, have more cheese.

Home Alone

Once more, the perils of being home alone confront me. I’m really, really trying to be a mature adult this time. I’ve only had ice cream once, and pizza once. I’ve done the dishes, and haven’t really been jumping on the bed or anything… although I’ve logged quite a few hours with the food channel and The Sims 3™.

I’m usually draggy most mornings, so hit snooze a million times and keep trying to get back to that dream I was just in. But the cats, Suzie in particular, act like it’s Christmas. Every. Morning. They just can’t WAIT for someone to get up to get them their breakfast, so they lay at the door, scratching at it and mewing hopefully, (endlessly) especially once the radio alarm has gone off. When I finally totter out of bed they go racing around like some huge wonderful thing is about to happen, and all I do is put some dry cereal in their bowls. Sillies.

Being on prednisolone hasn’t helped me get much sleep, but on the other hand, I am feeling much recovered from my tonsils’ murder attempt and am grateful for modern medicine.

Being a grown up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

 

Suspicious Minds

I had a busy day, which is why this post is so late. (I do like to get my poem done earlier in the day or it weighs around my ankle like a weight.) But because I was busy, I didn’t have time to develop the poem I thought I was going to write. This is much more lighthearted poem instead. I can live with that. ^_^ The prompt was to take a look at Elvis Presley’s “Suspicious Minds” and write a prompt based on the words, or on the idea…. Anyway, here it is.

Suspicious Minds

Our two cats Suzie and Emmett

(both rescued animals) live an

 

idyllic life. They are fed twice

daily, they have endless room to

 

play, catnip (on occasion), toys

and sunny windowsills galore

 

on which they lay and snore in cat-

tish lazy bliss. But things have changed.

 

Recently we’ve been nurturing

kittens whose feral mother dropped

 

them off in our back yard like an

ill-timed, thoughtless Christmas present

 

They’re getting bigger by the day

and, in fact, are becoming more

 

friendly too. And poor Emmett and

poor Suzie somehow seem to think

 

that soon, soon these usurpers will

take their places in our hearts. Who

 

knows what scenarios their sus-

picious kitty minds engender?

Excess

The prompt for the Poem-a-Day challenge today is “Excess.” This was a relief. I was so distressed over yesterday’s math prompt I was relieved to have a normal prompt. I wrote two poems about excess: One is about my own difficulties and another is about other people. You’ll see what I mean.

 

Too Much Food

Pot roast made for six or eight

Dessert as well, you’d wager

The hearty appetites to sate

of two or three teenagers.

 

Homemade lasagna, oven baked

with garlic bread all toasty

This kind of cooking can’t be faked

and that’s not being boasty.

 

Since nine or ten I’ve baked the bread

I was my mom’s apprentice

My sibs and then my kids were fed

Mountainous meals momentous.

 

And so you see why now I find

myself in a bit of trouble.

My recipes all seem so blind

to cook for just a couple.

 

I try to make the meals more small

Enough for two is plenty

But always fall under the thrall

of food for more than twenty.

 

I watch my waistline with concern

It’s having such a high time.

I think with practice I can learn

to cook meals for two this lifetime.

 

In the meanwhile the neighborhood

stray cats and dogs are thriving

on all the leftover meals and such

on my front porch arriving.

 

###

 

Dumpster Diving

In our neighborhood

we find

so many people

are so wasteful

as to throw things

away

when they are perfectly

good

items.

 

This may sound gross

and I’m sure

someone

will think it

disgusting,

but

sometimes

I go

dumpster diving.

 

It’s not for me,

it’s just that

I can’t abide things

landing

in a landfill

when local

charities

can surely use

and sell

those things.

 

Though I admit,

I did find

a perfectly lovely

steamer trunk

from 1919 one time

and now

it is my living room

coffee table.