Colin’s Visit

Grey kitten resting, breathing, purring,

Grey paint on walls

Embracing mournful souls

With offerings of sweet solace,

Rainfall falling almost endlessly

Emptying the boundless night sky of moisture.

____

Sound of raindrops’ rooftop landing

After being wind thrown through

Her ancient oaks,

Gutters sagging, overwhelmed and overflowing,

Sleepy human souls slowly drifting off in dreams.

____

Moments later:

Sun now rising,

Offering its golden prescient glow,

Just as fire’s warm embers waning,

Grey days for them, Alas,

No more…?…

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, 6/7/2016

I wrote this poem on my iPhone on Tuesday evening this week while we sat in our living room as TS Colin made its force felt.  Thank you for reading  :).

Life as A Cat

I used to think I’d come back as a dog,

But now I’m sure I’ll come back as a cat,

Not that I’m one to believe in the reincarnate

And all that.

___ 

I’ll keep my claws superbly sharp

and so superciliously clean,

As a warning to all of humanity:

“Don’t get too close to me.”

___

I’ll keep my nap rituals sacred and on the down low,

Enjoying my siestas without work ethic guilt,

Casting feline spells with purr purring,

Melting any Soul daring to step ’round my quilt.

___

Though frequently flirting and wooing

With the silent swoosh and swing of my tail,

In that swoosh shall remain this whispered warning:

I can always steal away in an instant, without fail.

___

My motto for this cat’s life will be:

“Always live in the now and the presence of right here,”

I’ll spend time with humans on my own terms, only when I’m ready,

Knowing loyal Sister Solitude shall always hold me steady.

___

And when I pass on to another life,

Still believing in nine lives and all that,

I’ll be most happy to accept another life as a cat.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, 04/15/2016

 

Ailurophile’s Muse

Awakened this time by thunderous scepters

Slicing and flashing their way,

Through the bedroom air

Of morning’s first breaths.

 

Feeling her fully stretched across

The length of his weary torso,

Her chest rising and falling

Serenely with the breeze of day’s first blush.

 

She and He, Together, Partners in Crime

Awake Now,

And ready to stalk the bewitching hours

For elements of Truth.

Handcrafted poetry by John Hines, 01/17/2016

I recently read On Cats by Charles Bukowski and Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot-both outstandingly enjoyable collections of poetry. The choice of these readings was inspired by the presence in our lives of a rescue kitten we adopted a little over a year ago, a Russian Blue mix who was born in an automotive garage and who lost part of her tail in a little accident while living there.  Always dog people having watched two Labrador Retrievers grow up with our children, we had never had a cat.  Each day with her we are ever ever more amazed by her impact on our family and her mysterious ways.  I tried to capture part of that amazement in this short poem.

Our girl also makes an appearance in a poem I wrote and posted at the end of last week (https://coachhinesblogs.com/2016/01/15/sirens-of-predawn).  The predawn hours can be special moments for writers and cats alike!  Thank you for reading :).

 

 

 

 

A Christmas Poem

Let’s have a real Christmas tree this year,

One that is messy and leaves

Sticky sap everywhere.

 

Visions of our cat Anna climbing up into said tree

Dropping glass ornaments,

Not one, not two, maybe three?

 

Delivering us mischievous yuletide stares

Spreading oodles of pine needles

Across every square.

 

Across every square

Of wood, travertine and tile

Resting our souls

For a short Christmas-while.

Handcrafted poetry by John Hines, 12/21/2015

I started writing this poem on 11/14/2015 after reading about a Christmas tree in a Kurt Vonnegut story.  Our Christmas tree is still not up.  However, our cat Anna is lying in the ready.