Cats
It’s a gamble,
opening with poems about cats, but what the hell.
Cats are mysterious, majestic, aloof, loving, disdainful, crazy
- sometimes all of those things, all at once.
I’m a cat person. Are you?
Harbour Cats
Up from the gaps between
The myriad chunks of harbour rock
Slung and dropped and shoved together
By gargantuan earthmoving dredgers
They come
So many one-eyed black cats
An outpouring of them
One, two, three, more
They come
Nimble of paw
Crying like angry babies
Led by a long haired brush tailed
Black and white beauty
They come
Licking their thin lips to trap
A tantalising taste of the dreamt delights
That woke their grumbling tums
In hope of morsels and mussels
From bored sous-chefs smoking in stealth
Leaning like lats against the bins
By the back doors
Of stainless steel slabbed catering kitchens.
The harbour cats congregate
Nuzzle, hiss and spit
Pat playful and pass muster
And in perfect choreography
Hop and skip from
Rock to rocky rock
Question and exclamation tails aloft
Ready for afternoon tea.
Perpetual War
There is a battleground
From sofa corner to settee arm
Scene of a series of wide-eyed skirmishes
A tiny perpetual war
That Orwell never imagined
No winners or losers
Just furious fights and comical chases
Without end
With squeals of protest
At potential piercings
And if an opponent
Takes a gasping breather
Boxing with savage shadows
And chasing traitorous tails
Will have to suffice
Until sleep overtakes
And the battle continues
On the other side
In twitches, feints and
Counterattacks
With monsters unimaginable
Only a Game
A crackle of dust in the grooves
Popping in the tinny arena speakers
They’ve started playing the victory music
The crowd is a dam, holding back
A breathless deluge of anticipation
Surely this has to be the end for her?
But a flat hand-off to a fazed face
A ninja spin with giddy squid speed
And he’s on his back and out past the numbers
The referee holds her salute aloft
And the crowd goes crazy mad
Fizz and popcorn in sweet sticky arcs
She helps him up and grins
He shakes himself like a wet grizzly
And grins back
It’s only a game, after all.
Starecat
They dance and sparkle
Motes of dust in bright sunlight
You can’t help but stare
Watchcat
I watch my brother
As he stares into nothing
So fascinating
His utter unawareness
Of my impending attack
Another Cat Poem
Cold, inquisitive gold
Holes punched in a shadow
A cartoon sentinel
She watches, unanimated
Lonely at the Top
Claws like crampons
He yanks himself up
The concrete fence post
Then a short hop over
To the shed roof
He poses at the peak
A feline weathervane
His ultimate prize:
Leaping across to
The house proper
And scaling the tiles
To the very top
But once you’ve
Reached the pinnacle
What then?
I’ve Been Out
Where have I been?
I have been on an adventure
I was chasing after chasers
Or being chased around
The details become sketchier
The more I try to pin them down
Where have I been?
I’m sad it’s over
But the things I’ve seen
There’s no point
In trying to explain
You wouldn’t understand
And none of it was planned
Where have I been?
You keep asking me that
I don’t have an answer
All you need to know
Is that I’ve been out
And now I’m back
Did you miss me?
Millhouse Davis-Kurley:
2002-2021