On a Sunday afternoon

Taking advantage of a rainy, cold and glorious day, I am conjuring my creativity. Breaking from the sounds of my acoustic rendition of Hole, I decided to write some poetry.  I am hardly a poetic genius but the catharsis is welcoming.  For some reason as I wrote the spirit of Federico Garcia Lorca haunted me, which was also welcoming.  The one thing that I always identified with in Lorca’s writing was his expression of dissatisfaction with ourselves and our desire to be something else.  His Casida De la rosa bests represents this to me. I also yearn to be something else, someone else.  But as I gaze upon all the faces of  my children, a sense of true satisfaction overwhelms me.  Sure they all have four legs and can not talk, well I take that back my Siamese are more vocal than most humans I know but their love is so pure and unassuming.  Some of them are rescues and others I sought out like my Great Dane, Diesel.  The common thread is our unconditional and reciprocal love.  They do not care if I miss the high note or they have heard the same guitar part a hundred times in a row, 90 of them poorly I’m sure 😉 They just enjoy the camaraderie and I appreciate that because on this Sunday afternoon as water makes highways down the window glass and I am reading Spanish poetry to them, we are all exactly where we want to be.  So I am going to invoke Lorca and write my own ode, an ode to my animal family.

The Siamese a.k.a Winston Theodore Barrington and Christian St.James-

Ocean hued eyes inquire curiously

paws passively kneading my legs

as meows whisper commands

the sophistication of seal point colored fur

disguises mischievousness and vigor

one the incarnation of a Tibetan monk

the other a truly neoteric soul.

Both my bedtime Saviors.

The Dogs a.k.a Tamale (Chihuahua) Baby Girl (miniature Schnauzer) and Diesel (Great Dane)

The tiger-striped beast softly calls out for my affection

his giant body foreign only to himself

as he attempts to lay in my lap,

the Schnauzer peers at me with her keen German eyes

if only to dictate my next move

she is the enforcer

complex and intricate

she craves attention and you will obey

and then the pint-sized spazz

her charm emanates from her craziness

excitement constantly excreting from her pores

as she dances endlessly around the den.

Beautiful creatures illuminating light.

The Bad Boy and the Huntress a.k.a Romeo (solid black cat) and Isabella (tortoise cat)

Isabella is no belle

she needs and wants nothing from you

her only joy is the hunt

she is the empress of the woods

Artemis worships her

strong, sleek and beautiful as she slaughters her prey

meanwhile her companion, the lover lounges lackadaisically

his bright jade eyes piercing her armor

his only desire is to love and the occasional playtime session

the shine of his ebony body entices a touch

and his intimidating claws warn,

that his is just as adept at war as love

but will always prefer the latter.

Two opposites that collided and intertwined.

The day after……

The smell of gray pervades the room,

winter’s hello kiss lingering on my lips

the flame of the candle dances and hypnotizes me

a Balinese cat calms my soul with his crystalline blue eyes

the red in my Buddha more predominate and striking

my fingers indented by guitar strings as bass lines ring in my ears

the green outside my window made more vibrant against the melancholy backdrop

the silver sparkles in my cup each illuminating in turn

as the taste of life engulfs my mouth

It’s Sunday, the day after

but also the day before.