Ugly Cat Speaks

Sunday, March 06, 2011

The First Budding Poems of Spring

Hopefully there will be more. (At least I am still working, however slowly, on the novel.)

- sometimes the reason -

things happen
at least that
is not in dispute
good things - bad things
I hate to admit it
there – is – always a reason

I will not cop to God
or some after-market
rationalization designed
to make the comforter
feel better – that – never works

no, things happen
sometimes because
humans are imperfect
we are ruled by our emotions
or are completely devoid of them
we’ve been damaged by
other people’s expectations
and the false hope that someone
somewhere – sometimes –
has a greater plan
over which - we have no control


the in-between times
neither happiness nor sad
the storm is coming


Are we really that different?

the birds return - then
the season signals
the slow marching
of the insects

or do they awaken
as the melting snow
floods their winter homes
very much like it does our own

but we don’t flee – unless
you consider Home Depot
as a safe haven – inundated
each season, by us, to adapt

like ants dragging leaves,
birds finding twigs and string,
and beetles tamping down mud
to fortify our homesteads



muddy snow
rain-tossed branches
pieces of last year's
squirrels' nests litter
what's left of a
winter wonderland

dirty, wet, and
slowly thawing
beautiful things
fight to be free
with such force
it displaces the
ugly earth - necessary bits
feeding the struggle
to become



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