Ruminations on Readings

2/20/16

"Cat E: just came to the door one day, all black, the perfect animal, each movement
Slides through space without friction,
he's the leopard, those yellow eyes look at you and say
kill or be killed, he's centuries old
the other cats stay away from him
Including the great fighter:  C
it's the EYES, they can't handle those
EYES
he will never be tamed
yet manage to pick him up, stroke him, put him
down, he will follow you for
some minutes, purring:
he is thanking you for not murdering
him
he'd scare the hell out of Charles Manson
and if he had to choose from such things
in a milder moment he might possibly go
Celine." -Bukouski, from Five Cats

This cat very much puts me in mind of our Cinders.
He didn't really belong to anyone
But consented to let us be the closet thing to staff he ever had.
He was very leopard - like -
big, sleek, battle-scarred and
very sure of himself
The father of Generations
(Grandsire of our Ollie, who loved my Mom so much)

The neighborhood dogs were afraid of him,

I've seen him sit on a sidewalk cleaning his paw casually
as a young pit bull ran up barking and growling, the other neighborhood dogs
basically yelling : "No, man, don't do it!!"
He started slowing down, but not before he got close enough.  Cinders reached out and slammed that well-groomed paw right into the dog's face.  He yelped and stopped, shaking his head, and Cinders clouted him again, just to remind him who's boss in the neighborhood. 
He used to walk with the postman, who was very glad of his company, as all of the dogs would back away, giving Cinders, and consequently himself, a wide berth.
Cinders was most definitely a tomcat,
and it was his
Don Juan ways that led to his demise.
No opponent bested him -
None but a feline sort of VD,
The vet said not much would help

and the old guy
was suffering greatly
Consenting to staying in the laundry room.
We finally saw the look in his eye that said "I's time."
We took him to the vet for a
 peaceful exit
And there was great mourning
in the neighborhood.
Even the dogs kept a
A moment of silence.

2/21/16

"Cats and people and you and me

and everything -
the Egyptians loved the cat
were often entombed with it
instead of the woman
and never the dog
and now
the good people with the
good eyes
are very few

yet the fine cats
with great style
lounge about the alleys of
the universe

about
our argument tonight
whatever it was
about
and
no matter
how unhappy
it made us
feel
remember that
there is a
cat
somewhere
adjusting to the
space of itself
with a delightful
wonderment of
easiness

in other words
magic persists
without us
no matter what
we do
against it.

and I would plunder and
destroy the last chance of
myself and of you
that this might
continue

there is no
argument."
- Bukowski

"Magic persists."
Mr. Bukowski tells us
In spite of all we do to thwart it,
it does.
We sometimes won't see it

because we humans
like explanations
and logic.
Magic is too messy
and too
Whimsical
To suit us
Magic like
Rain + sunlight = rainbow
Magic like
The Robin's Evensong
Like a child's smile
Like the sweetness
of honey
Like all the
Millions of little,
Magical
Moments
and things
that make life
real.


2/22/16

"I know, I know
they are limited, have different
needs and
concerns.

but I watch and learn from then
I like the little they know
which is so
much

they complain but never
worry.
they walk with a surprising dignity
they sleep with a direct simplicity that
humans just can't
understand,

their eyes are more
beautiful than our eyes
and they can sleep 20 hours
a day
without
hesitation or
remorse

When I am feeling
low
all I have to do is
watch my cats
and my
courage
returns

I study these
creatures
they are my
teachers."
-Bukowski

The "little they know which is so much"
 is that lesson of living in the present moment which is so difficult for us hamster-wheel brained humans.
 That wheel is always spinning, our minds restless.
Mulling over everything that is, was, or could be-
While cats live in the beauty of
Right Now,
and enjoy it without being distracted by that sort of dratted squeaking wheel.
Why can't I still that tumbling mind, learn to just "be" as cats do?
My head is a very noisy place
on the inside.

2/23/16

"And now, for something completely different."...
I've been ruminating on the cat- themed poems of Charles Bukowski, but starting today, I shall muse on the very famous "Old Possum's Book Of Practical Cats" by T.S. Eliot
I have long loved these poems, and the wonderful musical based upon them.
There is most definite music in Thomas Sterns Eliot's work.

The very first poem- "The Naming Of Cats"
tells of all the problems attendant to trying to sum up such a marvelous, singular creature as a particular cat.We name them usually, for our convenience, but they have a name beyond  any we can fathom -
Given, I believe by that Power whose Love made us all possible.
"When you notice a cat in
profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you is always
the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
of the thought, of the thought
Of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name."
- T.S. Eliot , The Naming Of Cats

Perhaps we also engage in a variety of this meditation from time to time, trying, usually in vain
To learn to hear the Name
Given by our Creator
Who calls to us in love
Softly, sometimes distantly,
Yet oh, so insistently
To find our true self
As seen by the eyes
of a love
Beyond our comprehension.