SILKEN PLUNDER

SILKEN PLUNDER

Buddy and Bigsy squared off on the bed

Each eying the pillow for his own furry head.

World-renowned Buddy, dog of wonder

Longed to own that silken plunder.

The pillow is mine hissed Bigsy the cat

With eyes that spoke about things like that.

Face to face, tensions mounted

Whiskers twitched, minutes counted…

Then: yelping, snarling, sniping and, growling;

Neighbors were quite sure they heard yowling

Tempers flared

Teeth were bared…

“Where are my sweeties? “sang a voice from the hall

“Treats in the kitchen for one and for all!”

A rumble and tumble of dog and of cat

Out they came running—yes, just like that.

Jumping and playing as feisty pets do…

Tired heads on a pillow-- perfect for two.

RTA, 8/24/2015

MUTIK'S EPISTLE 2.0

The anticipated response from Mutik, the dog, is herewith published below. I met Mutik at a rockin' dance party. She was quite offended by the poem I had written for her (see previous post: "Brave Heart"). Her name means "sweet," not brave and she is a "gal" not a "feller." As I was leaving the party, Mutik nuzzled me with her wet nose. I realized later that she had slipped a note into my pocket:

Mutik's Epistle:

I would like to request that you don’t come back.

As a poet, you are quite a hack.

You indicate that I’m a boy

And treat me like I’m just a toy.

Mutik means sweet, not brave you see

You got it wrong, so let me be.

But then again on the other paw

During the party, stuff got raw:

With clamorous sounds some vigorous beasts

Were cackling and gorging on gluttonous feasts.

I ran through the door and saved my brood

(And also managed to scoop some food).

So, I guess I really am quite brave

Like those dogs of yore whose families they save.

Ok, my dear, you have one more chance

Come back next year; perhaps we’ll dance.

Mutik, the dog 8/9/15

Top Hat Cat

Brave Heart: A poem about a dog I never met

Mutik means brave in Yidish

Brave Heart

Mutik the dog, we have never met,

But of my friend you are the pet.

I hear you are brave, strong and true,

A well-bred beast through and through.

Dogs of legend are few and rare…

Let’s discover if you compare:

If:

Little Charlie fell into the well

Would you yelp and run and tell?

Do:

Barrels of brandy surround your neck

To save frostbit travelers on a dangerous trek?

Can you:

Pull the curtain, exposing the Wizard

As nothing more than a low-down lizard?

The Thin Man questions: if you has-ta,

Could you solve some crimes like Asta?

Would you:

Rescue your family as did Old Yeller?

Of course you would, you’re a gallant feller!

“Arf, yip, slobber, grrrr, slurp, bark,”

Mutik, the brave, has left his mark!

Birthday Cake, made from scratch

Lazy Sunflower Afternoon...Best Use of Sunday LA Times

Dancing Flamingos

Flamingo Part-ay!

22 Flamingos

"There are 22 flamingos atop my bed”

Anna exclaims, with a tilt of her head

“This situation is exceedingly strange; 

Not at all in my experiential range!"

"My pillow is soft, my head tucked under

I'm so comfy, I could sleep through thunder. 

One eye open, what do I see?

Two lady tourists are laughing at me."

"I raise my head and look all around,

Oh my goodness, I can't see the ground!

So sleepy again, my head curls down

What do I hear? a very strange sound…"

"Music envelops me; the color of pink

A Flamingo's lullaby is what I think.

Giggles, chuckles, and chortles awaken

With laughter I see those ladies are shakin'."

"I give them the stink-eye and turn to beak them

But I'm so sleepy, my left leg does weaken,

It folds up under my plumage so soft

And I dream about soaring aloft."

"‘Psst... darling Anna, wake up my girl

Your fuchsia wings you must unfurl..’

I spread out my wings, and I pirouette,

I get those chuckling ladies all wet!"

"Emily, Jessie, Marcy, Michele…?

My friends all FLAMINGOS? please do tell-

How is this possible, what is the deal?

‘It’s true’ they say, ‘Flamingo party is real!’”

Flamingos are jiving, jiggling and dancing.

Flamingos are waltzing, popping and prancing.

Flamboyant Flamingos kick up their heels,

Dazzling Flamingos perform complex reels.

Oh what a sight, they are dancing all night

The two lady tourists squeal with delight

And so it goes til the clock has struck 12

Then into the water flamingos do delve

22 flamingos so fine and so fair

Emerge with a splash in the soft evening air

Birthday chorus rings through the night

A fete to remember when best friends take flight!

Who's That Baby?

I wrote this poem for my friend's daughter who just turned one. She is all giggles and smiles

Who’s that baby in the mirror I see?

Abigail giggles, “my goodness, it is me!”

Who’s that baby pretty as can be?

Abigail sparkles “she’s a princess just like me!”

Who’s that baby toddling on her toes?

Abigail squeals, “It’s me-- my mommy knows!”

Who’s that baby dancing round the town?

Abigail chortles, “daddy waltzes me around!”

Who’s that baby ready to sing her song?

Abigail whispers “It is me, so come along”

Who’s that baby, turning 1 today?

Abigail winks, “I’m not sure I should say”

Who’s that baby, turning 1 today?

Abigail chuckles, “heehee, It’s me, okay?”

Rose Applique

Birthday Roses

Lone Fang: or Why Some People’s Pets are not Ode-worthy

This tale of woe I must relate

To save an innocent from my fate

Concerning a cat that is totally ruthless,

Penny the cat, who is practically toothless

While relaxing one evening by the pool

Like an unknowing gullible fool,

Sipping wine, my death knell rang

As out of the night I spied a fang

Lunging at my tender throat!

I fought her off with my coat

Evil eyes, toothless grin

Lone tooth bared, she scraped my chin

Off she went into the night

Everyone snickering at my fright

A green-eyed lone-fanged imp from hell

Deserves no odes upon which to dwell

And that is why no poem is written

To celebrate Connie’s evil kitten.

Jitterbug Fantastic

To: Thomie on our First Wedding Anniversary

You are my cozy comfy old sock

No Wait!

            You are my designer stilettos

You are my companion couch spud

No Wait!

            You are my elegant date

You are my rumpled PJ’s

No Wait!

            You are my LITTLE BLACK DRESS

You are a lazy rainy day (no roof leaking!)

No Wait!

            You are sunrise and ocean breezes

You are random non-sequiturs

No Wait!

            You are brilliant insights

You are majestic Fox Trot

No Wait!

            You are jitterbug fantastic

You are a hot cup of soup

No Wait!

            You are a champagne cocktail

You are my comfort

No Wait!

            You are my joy

You are my comfort

            AND

My joy

You are my husband

You are my best friend

I love you,

Rachel Q

Jun 18, 2011

Once Proud

The Ostrich:

Oh what the heck!
It's my long, long neck…
Makes me look proud
As I survey the crowd.

My feathers glow soft
Whilst I stare aloft,

Dreaming of flight

And of soaring all night!

But if you could meet
My dinosaur feet,
Those two ugly toes--
The source of my woes.

The truth be revealed!
My pride I must yield,

And so with a sigh
You now know why

Ostriches are found
with heads underground.

At Ostrichland on 6/14/2015

Whassup Wednesday

Whassup Wednesday

Anna awoke. A normal day. She packed her backpack, called Karen to meet her at the corner and began her walk to school.

“Whassup?” squeaked a small voice.

“Well, I’ve had the darndest week so far,” said Anna. “I mean, Monday I woke up as a vegetable and yesterday I woke up as a tiny dancer. Today I am quite normal and feel that the day will pass uneventfully.”

“Whassup?” squeaked the small voice.

“On Monday I cured myself by dancing, yesterday someone left cake for me with a note and I ate it and grew right back to my normal size.”

“Whassup?” squeaked the small voice

“I had the best time in class yesterday—I got to jump on people’s heads and muss up their hair. So much hilarity! A great day.”

“Whassup?” squeaked the small voice.

“Hey, wait a minute. Who ARE you? Are you my Wednesday magical creature? Will something amazing happen today? Please tell!”

“Whassup?” squeaked the small voice.

Anna looked down. She noticed that one of the air pockets in her left Nike Air shoe was deflating. Every few steps her shoe squeaked like this: “Whassup.”

Anna called her mom. "Whassup kiddo?" asked her mom. 

"Nothing," said Anna, "just a butt dial." 

"Ok," said Anna's mom, "love you! Gotta go-- I'm late for Pamela's pinochle pool party."

Wednesday was a normal day. Anna ate her meals and went to class and read her books and talked to her friends. It was a good normal day. But, at the end of the evening, Anna sighed. As she fell asleep that night, she hoped that a diamond bedazzled dragon would carry her off to a Parisian Café on Thursday.

6/10/2015

Shakespeare’s Plays: The Haiku Project

I will try to write

One Haiku for every play

A daunting project

King Lear

Blow winds and crack rage

Cordelia and all dead

Eyeballs on the floor

Midsummer Night’s Dream

Love-in-idleness

Maidens, swains, fairies, magic

Bottom is an ass

Taming of the Shrew

Fair, shrewish, curst Kate

Petruchio you will mate

Broken pates abound

Othello

Jealous Beguiled Moor

Strawberried handkerchief lost

Desdemona prays

Hamlet

Grief, conscience, revenge

Sins remembered; fardels borne

The play is the thing

Minions' Lament

MINIONS’ LAMENT

Meow, meow, mew, mew, nibble, nip, coo.
Psst, Gwendolyn, is that working for you?
Purrrrr, play, leap, scratch, paddle, wriggle my rear
Cecily, I don't think anyone knows that we're here.

There's a new cat in town; nothing's the same
He makes us so mad; Punim's his name
They kiss him and coddle him and bedeck him with jewels
They fete him with sushi; he follows no rules.

We owned this house before he arrived
We strutted and feasted and both of us thrived
Now, no more kisses, no more creamed caviar
Punim, the prince, is the one shining star

Gwendolyn, my dear, a plan must be hatched
In which Punim, the prince, is forthwith dispatched 
Cecily, my twin, have you a plot?
Because, frankly, my tiny brain has not any got.

At midnight on Tuesday while Punim relaxes
In the crook of an arm that is working on taxes
We will creep o’er the ceiling in paws covered in ink
From his bed up the walls until reaching the sink

All in the house will think Punim’s gone mad.

When he’s tossed in the street, who could feel bad?

A genius you are, my Gwendolyn girl

I can’t wait til the night when the plan will unfurl…

Screech, splat, glurgle, splotz; cats in a heap

Did someone yell “Catnip” while Gweny did creep?

Ink on the curtains and ink on the ground

Someone heard snickering but there was no sound.

Gwendolyn and Cecily, felines so fair

Can be found every day combing Punim’s soft hair

The new cat in town is a most regal beast

He has two mewing minions that lead him to feast.

RTA 6/1/2015

The Philosopher King

The Philosopher King will be illustrated and published on the Vidlit.com website. Look for it June 2015!

The Philosopher King

Punim the cat was alone and inscrutable

Searching and yearning for a home that was suitable

He was tiny and brave; his requirements few:

Humans that tended him and Minions that mew.

Espying two cats in a window one day

Who were eating caviar and engaging in play

And teasing poor Punim by wiggling their rears

Punim thought: I could bring those kitties to tears!

Splaying himself on the porch of the house

With Pitiful cries and folded small as a mouse

Out came the owners: oohing and cooing

Punim thought: I won’t have to do any wooing.

And now Punim has grown to a most regal beast

With two mewing Minions that lead him to feast

With Humans that cater to his every whim

And all who enter must kowtow to him.

RTA 5/2015

Paper Cats

Mothers Day Reflections: Who's That Walking Out the Door?

Who’s that rocking in my arms?

Who’s that winking with her charms?

Who’s that playing in the sand?

Who’s that strumming in the band?

Who’s that knocking on my door?

Who’s that stomping on the floor?

Who’s that singing to the stars?

Who’s that longing to drive cars?

Who’s that scattering clothes across the room?

Who’s that dancing with the broom?

Who’s that stealing all my shoes?

Who’s that? college she must choose.

Who’s that laughing right out loud?

Who’s that making her mama proud?

Tiny and Mighty
My baby girl all growed up.

The house, quiet now.

RTA 2/2009 and 5/2015