that was
the greatest part of my morning
the greatest morning
a cat on my lap
enjoying the scritches
from my left hand
and a puppy at my feet
leaning into me
enjoying the scritches from my
right hand
and though i got no writing done
and it only lasted about ten minutes
i was in a blissful heaven
the whole time
why am i so calmed
by a cat simply being
on top of me?
even before the cuddles
or the purring
just knowing
that this feline wants to be on my lap
just feeling
her little paws on my legs
my anxiety is lessened
for the moment
for the moment
apparently
what i needed this morning
to feel a little more like
myself
was not writing
or poetry
or even coffee
it was a cat
purring as loudly as a geiger counter
on my lap
blanket cat
blankets me with all of her
over my lap
dripping down my leg
covering all she can cover
in one tiny cat body
the opposite of loafing
she liquifies and spreads out
and blankets herself
over
me
~~~
blanket cat, also because
the minute you have a blanket on your lap
she cannot resist
the draw
of a comfy place to sit
~~~
poor little puppy ear
did nothing to the dog who was near
but something happened
and the bite landed
and now a little notch is part of our Comps’s visage
poor little puppy ear
poor little puppy
you don’t deserve this pain
or fear
or anything bad
but at least your cute scruffy ear is going to look
so adorable with a tiny notch on the side
[the one piece of solace
we have to hang on to]
sitting kips
perching cats
lazing puppies
lofi beats
typing fingers
purring felines
windy fans
buzzing electricity
and caffeined beverages
someday i’ll be able to stand up again
and do some more morning things
but for now, this cat is keeping me sitting
so i’ll continue writing
for as long as she needs
my lap
taking time from poetry
to pat the cat on my lap
or encourage the puppy to play with her ball
or say random sentences to kip about
the randomness in my brain
[what i usually use this poetry outlet to express or explain]
which all makes for great connections
but not necessarily good morning writings
the cat
has a compulsion
every time there is a lap
with a soft fuzzy blanket atop
she must
must
must
crawl upon the space
created perfectly for a curled up cat
kneed the knees and thighs
just a few times
then perch
lie
purr
sometimes sleep
laps themselves
are only about 50% inviting
she could take or leave
bare legs/
legs blanketed in jeans/
pajamas/
dresses/skirts/harem pants
but the minute
that soft polyester cover is draped
here comes the hasslecat
a magnetic pull
a need
a compulsion
a necessity
to lie
on a blanketed lap
and i love her for it
most mornings
as i write my silly morning poems
i have a cat
on my lap.
since the new puppy’s arrival,
the cat has avoided all points of potential contact
and not set foot in the entire downstairs area,
save for moments when the pup is
well caged away
(crate and gates and the like)
but even then,
a cat paw on the main floor
is a rare sight indeed
theses days
so instead
of a cat on my lap
i must write this poem
with a dog by my side
barely touching
but still comforting
to have her there
as a reminder
that there are creatures around this house
(human and non)
when i get so lonely
hanging out with
just my own words…
hold the cat
in your lap
quell her desire
to eat the dog’s food
replace it with a mad want
to get away
from love and cuddles
(even tho her purring
says at least some part of her loves this)
and quick,
before her leaping feet hit the ground
put the bowl of canine sustenance
somewhere even this hassle cat can’t reach
(and repeat)
~~~
this outfit
was
very cute
before i held the cat hostage
now it’s
really cute
with
tons of cat fur
~~~
write
and read
and read and write
and maybe
someday
it’ll end up feeling
[all]right
(as opposed to fake insight)
wasn’t i complaining
yesterday
or the day before
(or the day before that)
that i wanted to get back to my
regularly scheduled schedule
and continue on in my routine of routines?
so why, now, comfortably sitting in
‘we’ve taken the dog out,
we’ve started the lofi beats spotify station,
we’re both at the table, doing our morning writings’
do i miss
so terribly
the hustle
the bustle
the never knowing what’s going to happen
from one moment to the next?
oh!
did i just need a cat in my lap?
this portion of my routine,
my every day,
my comfort and creativity,
that had been missing
pretty much
since we moved?
(even tho i do stop every few lines
to pet and love her
so she stays,
she still really does
help me
feel
the morning page
poetry
routine
i’d been missing
[and then immediately
got bored of].)
(she is the chaos
that i need
to appreciate
routine)
kipventures 