the Mrs.

The Mrs has been hanging around on the deck…as of late! We do not know where the Mrs. comes from. But the whole household is aware of the Mrs…

I don’t care cat-attitude!

This sexy and savvy feline has caught the eye of our sometimes…misguided, Bernie.

With the Bern not having opposing thumbs, I offered to put down on paper a personal ad:

I have been tired of my litter-mate! We’d been together almost all of our 9 lives. Like a worn down recording of Stay Cat Strut! One of my most favorite songs! So while she cat napped in the sun, I had my human read me the Cat Scratch Gazette…while I lay in the bed.

And, though my human isn’t the pick of the liter…she did suggest I take out a personal ad

Cat Style

Dear Mrs,

  • If you like warm milk on a cold night and chasing tail
  • If you can clean your privates while standing up
  • If you hold the human race with disdain
  • If you like making love even after you’re spayed

Then I’m the love that you’ve looked for, write to me and escape

Now cats aren’t made to be followers. We follow our own path. I gave no thought to my old lady. Cats are insensitive and tire quickly of the same old boring routine.

And, lo and behold, the Mrs…though nobody’s poet…wrote back.

Why do you think I keep stopping by your house? Yes, I like warm milk. Yes, my human is stupid. I’m not into Greenies but I am inclined to Temptations. Piss or get out of the liter-box, Bernie! Let’s cut through this red tape. Meet me down by the bird feeder and we’ll plan our escape.

Summer is coming soon and fuck knows…the Mrs will be crowded with admirers. So I strutted with high hopes as she walked about…tail in the air and full of grace.

I knew her smirk in and instant. I knew the curves of her luscious whiskers. It was my own lovely lady. **I’ve been telling the human, at 15 years old…my sight was not that great.

The Mrs., said,

Oh, its you!

And,with a Cheshire grin, I said,

After all these years…I never knew!

the Great Conceal-er, the Great Confessor

Sometimes, I ran so fast; My place in time, became lost.  Stone walls, broken ten speeds and placebo drugs.  Inhibitions that covered the truth of emotional abuse by the adoption of booze, blotter and smoke.

Though, the city-scape had always been, an abandoned countryside.  My skyscrapers, as a child, were pines, years and centuries, in the making.

To date, I can hear the footfalls, the gravel traffic jams, the sandy over washed roadways…that came raining down in sound.  Sounds of silence so loud;

Lulls from the yells became thunderous.

Music has forever been the great conceal-er of pain.  The great confessor of someone else’s crimes…Crimes of ill placed, angry, fist clenched passion.


‘We need music.  Not sure why!  Just as we need, ceremony.  Mirth, passion, rebirth, death…a manner in which to box the rain.’     RandomwordbyRuth

Box of Rain

Look out of any window
Any morning, any evening, any day
Maybe the sun is shining
Birds are winging or
Rain is falling from a heavy sky,
What do you want me to do,
To do for you to see you through?
For this is all a dream we dreamed
One afternoon long ago
Walk out of any doorway
Feel your way, feel your way
Like the day before
Maybe you’ll find direction
Around some corner
Where it’s been waiting to meet you,
What do you want me to do,
To watch for you while you’re sleeping?
Well please don’t be surprised
When you find me dreaming too

Look into any eyes
You find by you, you can see
Clear through to another day
Maybe been seen before
Through other eyes on other days
While going home,
What do you want me to do,
To do for you to see you through?
It’s all a dream we dreamed
One afternoon long ago

Walk into splintered sunlight
Inch your way through dead dreams
To another land
Maybe you’re tired and broken
Your tongue is twisted
With words half spoken
And thoughts unclear
What do you want me to do
To do for you to see you through
A box of rain will ease the pain
And love will see you through

Just a box of rain,
Wind and water,
Believe it if you need it,
If you don’t just pass it on
Sun and shower,
Wind and rain,
In and out the window
Like a moth before a flame

And it’s just a box of rain
I don’t know who put it there
Believe it if you need it
Or leave it if you dare
And it’s just a box of rain
Or a ribbon for your hair
Such a long long time to be gone
And a short time to be there