Cat's Corner of Montana

The Catherine Wheel

This was originally something I threw together over just before the 2008 4th of July holiday weekend, as I had fireworks on my mind. Surprise, surprise, right? There's nothing terribly deep and philosophical lurking behind this one. It's just some imagery and language I started playing with, liking the sound and the flavor of it all.

Bee Darling

This poem was inspired by a very odd dream I had a few nights ago. The dream itself was odd, but the imagery was so beautiful. I have not been able to stop thinking about Bee since I dreamed of her, so I'm sure she'll be making future appearances, and possibly telling us more about herself, some other day in the hopefully-not-too-distant future.

Glass Prayer

There were lots of things in this poem. There was a little of a prayer for a sick friend who had been having a hard time with various illnesses when I wrote this, but there were also bits of me pondering why I like to dye my hair red while I was in the shower, a surprise thunderstorm, a wonderfully honest conversation about life I once had with a good friend, and Caesar... always Caesar. He still means something to me. Even now that I don't need him so much.

Apollo's Sheep

I pieced together the skeleton of this poem in my head while I was on the plane home from a holiday visit to Montana. When the sun was up, from the window of the plane, the clouds looked so much like fluffy sheep following the sun, and when the sun went down, the lights of the cities below looked so much like jewels they were hiding under their skin all day, secret jewels that would only be shown to the patient and observant. The setting sun breaking through a crack in the cloud cover looked so much like the light from under some deity's bedroom door. Everything felt so much like a series of divine secrets I was graciously granted a glimpse of from way up there at my favorite time of day. I guess I still see things with the eyes of a child, or maybe just the eyes of an artist, if there is a difference at all. This poem is about seeing ordinary things in a way that transforms them into something beyond magical.

Ink

This was just a little quick verse I wrote one afternoon in an attempt to express what my personal philosophy is about using writing as a tool to grow spiritually and creatively, and I had forgotten how much I liked the imagery. That's why I decided to eventually share it. I think there are people who watch me that will be able to appreciate it, even though it isn't as polished or as new as some of my others.

The Lily Coat

As a lot of my poems are when I am so inclined to write them, this is based on odd images that floated through my head one night recently while I was falling asleep. My love protects me at night from the nightmares I sometimes have, and one night while I was drifting off, I began to dream that he is made of lilies that grow over me and protect me from harm each night while I dream.

The Valium Bath

We all know people who sleepwalk through life, shrouded and blinded by their own ignorance in some cases, and their own malaise in others. I was asleep in the Valium Bath once. Never again.

Neptune's Concubine

This is another work inspired by a very vivid dream I had recently. What was fascinating to me was not the dream itself, in which Neptune descended upon Earth smothering all its denizens, but the curiosity for me lies in the fact that this was not nearly the apocalyptic nightmare it sounds like it should have been.

The Thirteenth Hour

Like many artists and writers, I sometimes have trouble sleeping. I also find that on those nights when sleep will not come, good ideas and muses wanting to be heard often will come instead. Sometimes you find that time will stretch like taffy and extend into a parody of itself. I call this the Thirteenth Hour. Sometimes when one lets one's mind slip, he or she realizes there is something there that was not there before.

Lucy Fell

For whatever reason, of all the characters from Dracula by Bram Stoker, I was never so fascinated by any as I was by Lucy Westenra. Her beauty, her allure, and especially her enthrallment and subsequent fall have always intrigued me. I relate to her in so many ways, and in so many ways I feel like I am her echo. My goal in life is to be as captivating, but not to fall as she did. Maybe if I can save myself from that fate, I can reach into the Wells of Fancy and somehow save Lucy, too.

The Name of the Shade

One day I found myself thinking of the word "shade" and its meanings. Whether you are considering a ghost of sorts, or a daughter of some color or another, a shade is something rather hard to put one's finger on and define, and it will almost never look the same to any two people who observe it. This poem is about that concept.

Always and All Ways

As a child I often dreamed of a field full of the pieces of broken statues. In the dream, I knew there was a way to mend them and bring them back to their former glory -- a word -- a musical note. Sometimes I'd dream this and remember, and sometimes I wouldn't. This poem is about that dream.

Breathe

This was written while figuring out my feelings for someone very special to me. It's probably one of my only attempts to actually write anything romance-oriented. Love poetry isn't a genre that feels natural to me at all, but I won an award with this one, so I must have done something right.