Black cat.

He stalks as though it were the veld,

claws unsheathed, yet lightly held;

hugs the ground, then still unseen,

he pounces, and I hear the scream,

the taking of a final breath,

the certainty of sudden death.

What manner is this beast I see?

unblinking in his savagery,

the vestige of a different age

contained in one swift blur of rage,

as life drains from the little bird,

that all the summer I have heard

sing out in lyrical content;

so happy, though it knew its time

was lightly lent, the same as mine. 

But would it profit us to change?

attempt to tame and re-arrange,

the hunter's cold and hooded stare

that says, 'what do you really care?

for you are worse, far worse than me,

on this you cannot disagree;'

And in his eyes I see the truth,

that man and beast walk hand in hand,

entwined in all but circumstance;

and though our savagery is cloaked  

we are but seven leagues; no more, 

from when we marched in step before;

Still near enough, so all may know,

how close our heaven, to hell below.

Reviews

[Paul Shannon]

This is utterly fantastic. This reads like Keats. Seriously, bravo

[emipoemi]

It's good that you stray from the set rhyme scheme in the last stanza, but the recovery at the end must therefore be done with utter care, and despite the juicy brilliance of the ending, the recovery falls flat as when you stray from a set rhythm/rhyme scheme, the musicality has to make a detour too. The stray with "content" in Stanza 2 is perfection as you have the rhyme with "lent" in the last line. But the straying done in the last stanza has none of that subtlety to keep the musicality from striving to reshape itself in preparation for the recovery of the set rhyme scheme. The way it reads now, the musicality has "we are but seven leagues; no more" reading like it's supposed to rhyme with "cloaked" rather than be the recovery line. It's the only thing I found iffy about the piece. Everything else is brill-freaking-iant!! You got tal-ent!! And should seriously consider sending work out there for publication, if you haven't already.

Well done!!

[Robert Trakofler]

Tho I call myself bunny I’m most certainly part cat they come to me all of the time... on the street the feral ones walk right up to me:/ my current cat appeared in my store one day and set up house while I was away:/ I have never actively pursued owning a cat they just show up this one is feral too:) I agree they do not hesitate to kill they are unapologetic and at the core honest creatures no polite apology they do what they want always and will let you know when they don’t like what you are doing LOL

[CD Campbell]

I'm not very fond of cats unless I need one to kill mice for me. They're efficient killers. I seem to write more about dogs as I admire the look of accidental death that lies at the corner of their eyes. They have this look to them as if to say, "I had no idea that that chicken would die by throwing it around with my teeth around its neck." But you're right of course, we are not much better than the killer that takes for his own gain than any other beast. We just have mouths and language to make excuses to the contrary. Another thought provoking wonderfully well written work by you. You seem to be doing that a lot lately

[barleygirl]

This is very intelligently written to convey the character of cats. A million ideas were popping as I read. I was thinking about my only cat who lived here for a couple years, choking down my store-bought canned food for her, but little by little, she tried to show me that she wanted live rodents instead. She brought me & showed me constantly. But I didn't listen & I kept serving up the crap. Finally she ran away & a neighbor said she was living down by the creek with other feral cats where the rodents have burrowed a swiss-cheese embankment & the kitties stand by waiting for heads to poke out. I love how your poem feels as I do -- partly rooting for the cat & partly being conflicted about the furry or feathery victims. This is jam-packed with sparkling vivid details (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Dave Brown]

We certainly don't compare well to the supposed brutality of the wild kingdom.
We used to have a loving/killer cat.
Outside he was terrible but inside, I could set him on my lap with our budgie on my knee
Now we purposely attract birds, so no more cats.

[Crowley]

Not so much of a kitty kitty in times like these. You capture the cunning and instinct of the cat so when, and there is nothing to do but watch nature take its course. The rhyming was superb and the visuals amazing. Loved it a lot!

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

My beautiful black cat, Mia, is the world to me. When I adopted her, she was declawed so she is strictly an indoor cat, the only one that I've ever had. All others have been indoor-outdoor cats. She is easily the most loving cat, and I just adore her. I'm looking at her now. She's sitting on her window seat looking out over her kingdom, the window open for her to feel the fresh air. While I think of her as an angel who would never cause harm, the chitter-chatter of her moving jaws tells me otherwise when she's hunkered down, sights set on a bird - any bird. They are born with the instinct to hunt for survival. We domesticate them but can never take away that natural instinct to survive. It's hard to see but natural. Funny enough, this reminds me of something that happened at work years ago. A lady had a bird feeder set up outside her office window. One day, she screamed, having looked out the window to find a cat perched on the railing with a bird in its mouth. My supervisor, being an arse, said to her later, "I hear you have a cat feeder." In exasperation, she replied, "Tim!"

[jacob erin-cilberto]

humans and animals definitely share a certain savagery....but animals become savage to survive...they hunt for that reason...humans hunt for sport....and have choices whether or not to embrace savagery...
we have reason and conscience...and often don't exert either one.

j.

[Eilis]

I suppose any observations we have of the brutality of the animal kingdom are superficial when compared to our own brutality. Apocalyptic worries do not stem from the actions of a cat- no matter how carelessly she knocks off the local bird population.

I used to have many cats. Loved cats. But they did turn me with their heedless appetite for blood. And the way they could be so brutal with one another.

You really capture the conundrum of domestication, as I see it. You can never completely civilize anything. The darkness is in everything to some degree, and when we feel hurt by the actions of someone or something, it can be a pretty short road to understanding how close we are or come to savagery. Life is confusing.

Your poems are always intelligent and compelling, Beccy. Thought-provoking. I appreciate that about your work.