kitten little, sometimes big,
walking through the streets alone,
puddle water, garbage cans,
sometimes an abandoned bone.
boxes set for mornings haul,
make shelter from the freezing rain,
kicks and stones and shouted words,
she stumbles past, ignores the pain.
born into an alley, grown,
no memories to give her place,
her only clue a collar, red,
that takes her into kitten-space.
in form, a scrawny alley-cat,
black and white with bright green eyes,
the colors meld in formless shapes,
to make the shadows her disguise.
in kitten shape she eats and sleeps,
then grows again at each sunrise,
when big, she stands a scrawny teen,
with ebon hair and emerald eyes.
tail that hangs so limply down,
and ears that hear a mouses cry,
invisible, intangible, but present,
real, and not insanitys’ sweet lie.
her hair so long and tangled falls,
across her fearful, tearful eyes,
hiding the skin so ivory white,
torn by hate in loves disguise.
skin that’s never felt soft hand,
a mothers touch, a fathers love,
never felt a sweet caress,
just icy air and a strangers shove.
where will she end, this kitten, lost,
who is there to take her in,
how did she come, and at what cost,
what secrets lie beneath her skin?
This is number one of a series of 5 stories, poem or other, inspired by/written for a handful of pictures from Christina over at Artblablablablog. I chose this one to go first to give Mr. Mike his something secretive and dark. 😉
“One pill makes you larger, one pill makes you small, and the ones that Mother gives you don’t do anything at all…go ask Alice, when she’s ten feet tall!”
“White Rabbit” by Jefferson Airplane
Hmmph. Well, I’m Alice…but don’t ask me! Trust me, don’t. I’m likely to tell you, and then where would you be? Lost, same as me, that’s where.
Lost in my head, far from my bed, lost in the woods of shouldn’ts and shoulds, cravings and ravings and speaking in rhyme…aren’t I having a marvelous time?
Oh, no, not you again. You just shut up, you! You got me into this in the first place, with your little whiny voice. “Oh, please! It’ll be fun! You -like- camping with your family, so this’ll be even more fun! They’re nice guys, and there’ll be other girls there too…and what if we say no, and they make fun of us? We have to go!” So we went. And here we are. In the woods, in the dark, a baggie of stolen pills in my hand.
Little pills for certain ills, of the mind that’s caught the chills, and for the mind that’s running low, and the one that wanders to-and-fro!
Heh. Wandering. Yeah. That’s what I’ve been doing all day, and all day yesterday…and likely all day tomorrow, unless they find us and kill us for stealing the pills. Find me, I mean. Not us. There is no us. THERE IS NO US! Ummm…sorry about that. Just an echo. Really. Now, where were we? Oh, yeah…trying to figure out where we are.
Take a pill! Just one little pill, you saw what it did for jack and his jill, as they fell laughing down the hill and lay them down so very still!
No! No pills. That’s why I took them in the first place! These things are dangerous! They make you see things, feel things…awful horrible things. Things with big teeth and worms for eyes that used to be a snotty cheerleader named Jill. Things that laugh and laugh and laugh until you panic and run, not realizing what you clutch in one sweaty hand.
Why do you wait? It can’t hurt! You’re sitting here in cold and dirt, and freezing as the sun goes down with no idea how far to town, or if there is a town at all or maybe you just had a fall, and you’re really lying in the dirt all bloody-broken-dashed and hurt…
I can’t! I’m…I’m afraid, alright? My brain feels fuzzy enough as it is, and all I had was a bit in a drink. I’m afraid what’ll happen if I try it…but you’re right…it is cold.
Maybe just -one- won’t hurt…
“Officials are still investigating the strange disappearance of 7 college students in the state park this weekend…so far the only clue to the mystery is an abandoned bag of aspirin.”
the mystery that lies within,
the dreaming that’s our second skin,
the paths we walk, the winds that blow,
the words that let our spirits know,
that what is now has gone before,
the quiet that’s our inner core,
the timeless wonder of the stars
that whispers “this too can be ours”,
the magic of a single minute,
that has so many choices in it,
the peace that dwells within a flower,
the lifetime held within each hour,
the caring touch of heart to heart,
the soul healing power of loving art.