My autocrat of a
cat
sat on the pedestal
and watched me type.
His eyes, slits, like
slivers of emeralds.
He took a paw,
licked it, and
washed his despot face.
He owned me.
I did whatever he
wanted.
He sauntered off,
then turned and
watched , as I
took liberty with
truth, for the
sake of
imagination and creation.
I dreamed last
night that he could
talk.
He just said two words.
"Beautiful lies."
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 16th, 2023 21:41
- Comment from author about the poem: The You Tube video is of my latest reading, including the poem, A Cat Named Poe. I hope you subscribe to my channel. Thank you.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments3
Such a fun read, but truthful too. You gave me some great imagery of your cat. They do own you and saunter off too. I love that last stanza. I live with a cat and a dog. A little cat that continually puts a larger dog firmly in her place.
Lol, thanks for the read and comment.
You got a talking cat. I got a talking dog, Fido (imaginary). He appears in poems at times. lol.
We have to bear with TWO cats, but they are very friendly!
Lol, Thank you.
A fine write, Thomas.
Love the cat personification.
Thank you.
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