Cat's Cradle

 

Cat's Cradle

 

 

All that summer you stalked me

with your tiger-flower eyes 

yellow as saffron,

ochre-flecked with 

an unknown pollen,

 

shining

blood-bright in

your weathered face,

and those few words you owned,

more rough than real.

Under the windy moon

light was as fickle and brief

as a glimpse of truth,

a falling star. Fish slid by

like lost ideas

 

dark as omens

beneath the emerald lake

that deepened the closer

I pushed towards shore,

their flat eyes swiveling back,

 

noodled to piscine

laughter;

they waited like me

for the hook

to pull them up.

 

We watched the sun

burn its last amber coal,

and gave back its mirage heat

to the night like the

pave-stones of Babylon,

 

all that jungle summer

when I closed my eyes to time.

May 2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 posted for dVerse Poets

Poetics

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Noodling is fishing for catfish using one's bare hands, and is practiced primarily in the southern United States. The noodler places their hand inside a discovered catfish hole in order to catch the fish...the origin of the term is unknown." ~wikipedia

My compound words for the prompt were moonlight, starfish and sunburn. I also used an abundance of additional ones not carved to order, just for fun.

Images: Night, 1905 © Mikolojus Konstantinus Ciurlionis    Public Domain

Tigridia pavonia 'Aurea" (Tiger flower) photographer unknown, via internet   Fair Use

Kowboy Katzenjammer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Kowboy Katzenjammer

When Kowboy Katzenjammer

comes to Kittycon

he always brings his religion.

Sixgun and spurs

forecast high-noon confessions

and lavish donations.

He preaches tomcat gospel

to green-eyed kittens

in sharp ears and lazy ribbons,

offers his cardboard box

in the church of broken locks

to a fury of furries

 trading their fur

for a two-second purr.

 

 

 

 

December 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

posted for Fireblossom

at The Sunday Muse

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Note:This 55 uses the following words from Shay's Word List (Laura Nyro), which I did not include in my previous poem for that prompt: confession,forecast,fury,lazy,religion,tomcat

Image via Sunday Muse   Fair use

 

 

 

Appaloosa Moon

Appaloosa Moon

You rode in from Calgary on

the appaloosa moon, all in white

above her speckled flanks;

another cosmic cowboy

looking for a decent rodeo clown.

You took my hand.

put it on your silver buckle.

I felt the corded muscle;

did my best

to dismiss the hat.

You were  sweet as margaritas,

flying god and sinking singer

at stud, a three-time winner

with a kick like

a government mule.

Some (not I)

might think you thicker

than a jug of home-brewed liquor,

but you had your existential

quandaries just the same.

I got it, alright,

you sometimes mumbled

slipping off my bridle, 

whispering in my wind-swished hair,

but it ain't consistent.

Nothing is, I said,

somewhat hampered by

the texture of your

soft-breathed reaching nuzzle,

except

hellfire and this hot-ass summer,

and they're not much use at all. 

And so I held you trembling

till the bell rang, the chute-gate banged, 

and the moon put her head down

while you laughed in the rain:

a horse, you told me, won't buck if it's in pain.

~July 2015

posted for    real toads

Ella ( Ella's Edge) 

asks us to reflect on something we will never outgrow--in this case, one's favorite memories. 

Process notes: "...However, while the implied argument ...is that pain is what makes the horse buck, in actual practice, irritants or pain generally interfere with a horse's ability to buck in an energetic and athletic fashion..A horse in pain will become sullen and not buck very well...' ~wikipedia




Images: Tail Swish, by Pretty Petal Studios. on etsy
No Copyright Infringement is intended
The Broncho Buster, 1909, by Frederich Remington
Public domain via wikiart,org