Stormcat's Poetry

Friday, January 10, 2014

Twenty One . . .

"at last"

by Stormcat

-a dream-

Someday the most beautiful woman I have ever experienced will bang the gong that hangs at my front door (my doorbell)

-and-

when I answer she will joyfully throw her arms around my neck and kiss me,

with the most tender touch,

-a kiss-

that will last so long that it will take the rest of our lives to finish!

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Twenty . . .

Pride

by Stormcat

God seems to save me whenever I go down.

The logic of it eludes and the shame of it irritates me.

I hate that I'm unable to keep myself

It seems that I have the power to act

But then something goes wrong, such that I need to be rescued,

such that I have to ask God to intervene yet again . . .

It's so hard to ask! To take back my indifference. To admit

defeat. To admit reliance.

I guess this is the kind of pride that results in extermination . . .

I try . . .

but getting on my knees seems sacrosanct to hypocrisy! Like,

how can I pray for others when I can't even bring myself to kneel in solitude?

Humility you say . . . but my lack thereof is transparent so prayer seems farcical.

Surely God will see through such an act and will resent me for it!

For so many years my buried anger has festered (There is no equality on earth,

and it appears that there is no equality in heaven) I have no problem loving

regardless of whether the person's gifts are more numerous or less than mine. I

don't even notice. Acceptance and an understanding heart controls.

Ethnic cleansing exists because pride leads to wickedness?

The power of the ruler exists because the subjects freely give irrevocable loyalty.

Faith is the power by which God keeps the universe in order

So faith is irrevocable, unquestioning loyalty, in the face of unverifiable belief?

But I question!

I question everything!

And no matter how strongly I believe something to be true, I reserve a doubt in case I am wrong!

Is that pride? Have I no faith? Where is my loyalty?

Does God not love the son who questions? Is he just an irritating child worthy of condemnation?

Where is the balance? Self:

confidence - loathing . . . pride - humility . . . love - hate

can I face my God father without balance? Will he help me achieve it?

What about my Goddess mother? She must love me with a tenderness that instills

enough confidence to face him. Shall I pray to her first?

Is it allowed? Will she answer? I think I miss her and wish for her comforting smile.

I don't want to be proud to a fault!

I just want enough confidence to be fearless.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Nineteen . . .

Acquiescence

By Stormcat

Is it correct that the thing one fears the most is inevitable?

And is it also true that that most desired is impossible?

I met you under unusual circumstance.

Our time together was to be temporary.

Attraction is attraction. Connection is connection.

Expectation is the basis of disappointment.

Desire is the seed of vulnerability.

Can one hide one's fear from God (the universe?)

Does contrived will actually mask real feeling?

I would never accuse you of the life I suspect

Although my love for you would allow it.

And the circumstance logics it.

Hell isn't enough to keep me from trying

Death, moreover life, without you . . . is much worse.

Often I just want to get drunk and forget.

Is self destruction the fruit of guilt, or the penitence of unforgivable sin?

At this point I fear our love is lost.

You constantly distance yourself (yet you still always keep in touch)

I feel that you wish it were me, but you are waiting for me to win

You cannot risk commitment based only on desire or potential

yet you do not realize that you are the essential ingredient

Can you not see me as yours from before the foundations of life?

Has living blinded you to our eternal connection?

From the first encounter the draw was undeniable

Not just that I wanted to fuck you, but that I couldn't believe it possible

that I simply felt that to be in your presence was heaven

and when we finally met I knew that I could take away your pain

so doesn't it follow that my touch affects you so . . .?

What does my one true love have to do to prove her loyalty?

What is my reciprocation thus? Do I go first or does she?

The fire in my heart fiercely resists

but the water of your actions overwhelm

I repel the flood hoping that you will realize

denying that you can't possibly miss it

knowing that you will.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

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Monday, January 6, 2014

Seventeen . . .

Love Denied

By Stormcat

The hawk sat on my mailbox last week, watching, as I returned home.

It was reminding me that I am a fierce solo hunter . . .

and then I knew that my love had forsaken me . . .

at least in her mind, because of her inability to trust,

But I know that in her heart, she remains steadfast

I don’t really believe in “the possibility” of love at first sight

What I believe is that love at first sight is the only true love

Whether her first sighing be a glimpse through a Venetian blind

Or a pic on an internet site of someone halfway around the world

And she loved me from that first glimpse, as I her.

My passion unravels my ability to think logically

What am I to do next? Is this a test?

Shall I put forth a Herculean effort to find her and sweep her off her feet?

I don’t even know where she lives . . . 3 hours drive from Prague?

If I flew would she even show her face?

I've waited a lifetime to find her!

She is that pearl of great price that one suddenly discovers

that then upon discovery motivates one to sell everything to obtain . . .

I cannot live without her.

I truly cannot live without her.

But the hawk came again today and soared above my home

It was reminding me that I am a fierce solo hunter . . .

I hate that word, solo!!! As I love good company and intelligent conversation

Must it really be for most . . . born alone, live alone, die alone?

I feel so jealous of those illusory lovers who know no difference . . .

They don’t know it’s impossible so just maybe it isn't!

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Sixteen . . .

Crying

By stormcat

There are times when nothing evokes it

There are times when you can’t stop it

All illusory, like fucking whores, and sluts, like

drugs that inject your body with a short lived shot

intense pleasure that takes your life then leaves

you empty and broken

Escape may bring some solstice but you can’t

from you. Bury yourself in work or alcohol

even earth! What is the quality of spirit tears?

In any case you’re dead even as you laugh

and it’s untenable to realize that living or dead

there is no sympathy in hell

Conversely there are tears of joy ecstasy

in the context of gratitude for the unbelievable

unexpected good fortune awash with humility

at last you have found the love of your life

and it’s ironic that, for lack of need,

there is also no sympathy in heaven

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Fifteen . . .

Ode to Jerry

by Stormcat

Updown - the hollow feeling one gets encouraging the old man in

the hospital to get well while asking him questions about what he

wants in his will.

The hawks came again three days before the hurricane . . . each

circling high in the sky overhead. Reminding me of my need to

soar alone before I take on the responsibility of yet another. Lines

crossing lines creating illusory shadows perceived only in my, the

observer's, eye, moving in ever changing patterns as I sway. The

effect is comforting albeit mesmerizing.

I exit my loft bed where I languish alone and move quietly outside

into the midday sun's heat. Schlieren lines float steadily off the metal

roof behind me, mixing with the cool forest air and contrasting the

moistness of the willow by the pond. How dare he die before I

finished my work. Didn't he know that I was going slow in order to

keep him living. What am I to do now, pray for his soul . . . Ha! I

have no influence in that realm.

It might be something good though. He suffered such a painful

rejection from his "one true love!" I suppose he felt useless in the

end, stripped of pride and dependent on the goodness of others.

A strong hearted soul can only live that way for so long. So now

he passes to the land of good strong hearted souls . . . no more

anguish, no more pain, no more loneliness in the midst of crowds . . .

I'm sorry this is such a short disorganized ode but I only knew him

in the end of his tumultuous life. . . I imagine him when he was in

his prime. Simultaneously tough and kind! The consummate provider.

Father and friend! One of the gentle people to grace the world. A

man that, however short the time, I feel privileged to have known.

Friday, January 3, 2014

Fourteen . . .

For Angel

by Stormcat

I saw your beautiful sad face and wished I could change you

you long to be happy inside . . . to joy

It must be hard to see,

to be, an angel, all the pain of the world.

Do angels have angels too?

Can a mortal be your wonderwall distracted

by time by distance by position by

physical beauty . . . . . . . .lust?

or not!

The heart truly is lonely for Angel!

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Thirteen . . .

Schizotypal personality disorder by Frishec

Despair

by Stormcat

I sweat pain in my sleep.

The hate and anger builds and then at night flows from my pores.

I awaken drenched, change the linen, then return to sleep and start the whole again.

The sad part is that loves goes too.

Because love is painful!

I never love anyone in my dreams anymore.

The vagina becomes an isolated cave.

No body, no breasts, no loving arms, no tender lips, no urgent tongue, no hope for the future.

Then everything disappears and there is no finish, only pain pouring from my body and tears from my soul.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Twelve . . .

It’s the first day of 2014 and all the other poets are posting really remarkable things on their blogs so I feel this pressure that I too should post something remarkable. But I’m just angry. I’m angry at the way life has turned out for me. I believed in optimism and expected that it would work if I too worked hard. But I end up alone anyway. I’m angry that I have to fight so hard just to be a little bit happy and angry that even that little bit of happiness still seems to be insincere. So all I feel like doing is posting just any old crappy mediocre poem here today. The one that I think is the worst poem I ever wrote; the one poem that I don’t want to own as being mine, posted just because I’m angry, posted with an attitude of spite. Anyway my year started on the winter solstice so why do I care about honoring the beginning of a new year that’s based on the calendar of some two millennium long dead Cesars.

Anyway the year is defined as one complete circumnavigation of the earth around the sun. And the day is defined as one complete rotation of the earth upon its axis. And the two are completely independent of each other. I mean how can you divide 365 ¼ evenly. So we end up with a patch . . . namely leap year . . . but even that isn’t accurate and we have to keep resetting the clocks in order to make that all work out. And what if we try to divide the year into some logical whole number of units we just go with 365 x 4 + 1 = 1461. 1461 What the fuck can we do with that? Divide by 3 and get 487 . . .

Okay I’ll give in . . . A sweet little poem that I like, that doesn’t really say much, but most importantly is irrelevant to anything having to do with the holiday . . .

Thinking About You at 3:51 AM

by Stormcat

Where are you my love?

Come to me! Take off your clothes!

Come to the warm place next to my nakedness!

Let me hold you!

Let desire overwhelm you! Give me your tongue!

Feel the passion inside as you become one with me!

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Eleven . . . experiment in form (three poems in one)
on the eve of the Western New Year

Quiet Anger

By Stormcat

there's the kind that kills

that that's held

inside the kind that

builds eventually the person

is seething behind

a smile the kind

that release is

inevitable hope

you don't hurt someone

else when it happens

hope too you survive it

there's the kind that helps

that that's righteous

indignation stimulated

by inequality ineptitude

inefficiency . . . stupidity

it boils out

focused on that iniquity . . .

focused on righting

attacking the whole

righting the wrong

changing something for all

so is quiet anger

strength or weakness

fight what

tolerate what

ignore what

engage what

justify tolerance as weakness

condemn rebellion as treason

egregious acts aside

world issues are

superfluous

If I were a better man

I wouldn't feel so angry

I'd be more understanding

of life and all its complexities

I'd know when to rail

against the status quo

I'd never let anger

get the best

I'd never even have

anger

much less keep it quiet

Monday, December 30, 2013

Ten . . .

Bored

By Stormcat

What does one do with oneself after becoming bored with the world?

(or even the universe for that matter . . . ) Math . . . done that: Philosophy . . . done that:

Physics . . . done that: Art . . . done that ( and loved it): History . . . done that (what a mess that is) Psychology . . . can't ever seem to get away from that: Biology . . . The only thing that really makes any sense . . .

I mean how many more cathedrals does one have to see after having seen. like fifty?

(Same design, minor differences in the embellishments, one is as good as the next. Fuck you! Catholicism for having built yourself on the backs of the poor! If you were really the real true church of Christ, you'd take all the treasure of the Vatican, sell it, and use the proceeds to lift the impoverished into productivity!)

Do I have to be in awe at the quantity of guano deposited on some south pacific Island?

I've already made friends with wild animals so why pet some stupid tortoise at some zoo?

Are ancient pyramids really that spectacular? What, just because a thousand slaves were sacrificed to make them. I think the pharaohs were wrong. . . So why do we revere them? Shouldn't we tear them down because they are symbols of slavery and oppression? Shouldn't we at least couch them in the light of what they really represent?

The government, which holds itself out as a democracy, is really a sham! For the people by the people has become for the people by the rich. Which translates into for the rich by the rich! ! ! Hail to the bureaucrats. who stupidly give them their power. Bureaucrats who don't even know that they are! They think they are doing the right! And the rule-makers of commerce follow suit reflecting that policy, so that everyone, public and private, feels comfortable with their little roles of efficiency! Cogs in the wheel! Worthless meaningless cogs! Fucking despicable cogs! Usurping their perceived power because they can't acknowledge that they are really powerless as individuals! They are only assuming that if they can control some part of this artificial system then they have some control over they're own lives. They cannot realize that control of individual life comes only with not fearing death or poverty or loneliness. Remarkably, they believe that the system that they administer is the very system that will save them along with everyone that they love. They are blind not because they cannot open their eyes but because they will not!

I am tired of this world! I cannot tolerate anymore the ones who think that chattel it so important that they will steal to get it. I cannot tolerate those who think that their wisdom is so right and complete that they stop thinking. I cannot tolerate those who want to control all that is around them, It is not humility before "GOD" that I respect, . . . It is humility before all that is the true humility! (A knowledge that there is no complete knowledge.)

Am I really bored? Or am I just tired of what seems to be interesting to the rest of humanity?

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Nine . . .

Solitude (A Blues - Alt Rock Fusion)

By Stormcat

Blues ~

Solitude . . . you elude me in my prime

and yet when I grow old

you'll be there . . . all the time

and force me to believe that

all my longings are a crime

Alt Rock ~

Echoes in a life sublime

projecting from a tortured youth

nightmare . . . grasping for a life line

dirty needles . . . clog a toll booth

guilt destroys Stendalien pleasure

paranoia, Cartesian truth

Blues ~

Can't take it easy

Life doesn't come at me that way

I'm always in the middle . . . even when

avoiding being in the fray

easy leaves me stranded

easy always goes astray

Alt Rock ~

Waves across polluted water

frozen with the desolate

memory's abandoned fodder

awaken fade destroy berate

beckon home joy's wandering daughter

incestuous hope to promulgate

Blues ~

Am I lonely

or have I simply lost my charm

has my lady gone away . . . or just

no longer hangin off my arm

can I make it on my own . . . or

should I sound out the alarm

Alt Rock ~

Lost Eden memory exhausts its clamor

disturbing lines of plodding sheep

bunnies graze on peaceful reefer

horses draught infectious creep

relax "o" philographic viper

let venom's toxin rest and sleep

Blues ~

My sole expression

is the expression of my soul

It comes from deep inside me

and constitutes the whole

It keeps me with the living

yet extracts a painful toll

Alt Rock ~

Black watery womb . . . whole body mired

capitulate from ancient fish

then soar above a frozen world

while frost cannot the heat extinguish

the fierceness of this fiery bird

arises from the ash of anguish

Blues ~

Solitude . . . . . . . .

Saturday, December 28, 2013

Eight . . .

My Girl

by Stormcat

She: reads Harlequin Romances

favors red meat, loves ballet, smokes Cubans,

embarrasses easily, loves super dark chocolate,

would rather talk about boys than Descartes, likes

really big dogs, probably is a better shot than I . . .

prefers rich reds and champagne,

dresses in fur

and silk, doesn't trust men or most people, likes

either very expensive shoes or flip flops,

looks good in ski pants, is a bit of an adrenalin junkie

scubas frequently,

dyes her hair crazy colors, loves fishing

is fearless of nature and wild animals (including bears)

enjoys raw oysters,

drives fast,

loves me.

I'm crazy about her!

:-)(-:

Friday, December 27, 2013

Seven . . .

In’?

by Stormcat

I wake up in morning light disappointed to realize that I didn’t die in my sleep

wonder why I persist in perusing this state of living

this self centered mindless creep

Inertia?

Night’s darkness pursues challenging and eroding existence

until sadness breaches heavily defended harbors

and fear motivates sleeplessness

Insomnia?

Pressure builds toward a state of untenable integrity so all structure is at risk

hot noxious odorless vapors render undetectable demise

until the explosive breach rains ash then lava

Incontinence?

Numbing repetition seems to be the order, classroom stretching into life

rote memorization, formulaic procedure extinguishing creativity

discouraging initiative facts cluttering minds

Infestation?

One can’t help but wonder as the memory of the progression is muddy

that now the addiction/obsession precludes living normally

clarity resides only in the memory of that first high

Initiation?

I dream of elephants walking on the moon in elephant space suits

ha ha ha how far they leap . . . giant bounds, soft landings, collecting moon rocks

the size of houses . . . a payload that can never be brought home

Insatiation?

The home represents the shackles and the feeding the same, though inadequate

the beatings are also welcome as the only real focused attention . . .

Trust your ability you say . . . and find what

Independence?

Anyone have any clue how much technology doesn’t matter, how much the trappings

of the privileged are moot. Illusion, buoyed to hype

“I must drive an exotic rather than, God forbid, a domestic”

Infatuation?

I’ve got an idea. Instead of sending up billion dollar a-piece stationary orbit satellites

why don’t we just shotgun a huge lot of cheap reflective junk spaced randomly

then bounce the com signals in exquisite redundancy

Instant Bureaucracy?

Except for friendship, I wouldn’t be telling you this that your reputation isn’t as you think

Neither as a man of integrity, nor as a man notorious are you known . . .

Just as a loudmouth full of bullshit

Injury?

Well I shouldn’t insist on writing this iniquity because people will think insidious schemes

are at work and thereafter instigate a rebellion saying that it personally insinuates

some kind of instability therewithin . . . Ha!

Insecurity?

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Six . . .

the one

By Stormcat

I remember that moment well when

I realized that you loved me

It was hard for me to believe even then and I am still denying it

But I know it was and is still true

I am sad that you can’t be with me

That you have to be free and so are not able to make your home

in me . . . for there is life in us together but there is

sweet tragedy in us living apart

at the very least I know that I have loved . . .

In you there is that! So I thank you

I thank you for holding my hand

I thank you for sharing wine and making memories of restaurants and music

I thank you for making love

and sleeping over. I thank you for phone calls

and messages and showing up and traveling to be with me

but most of all I thank you for giving me

a one great love of my life . . .

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Five . . . Christmas Day.

Euerosaphobia

By Stormcat

Maria . . .

namesake of women, of womanhood

slave to logic, admirer of passion, adopted romantic!

Your frustration is but a matter of patience!

The desire of achieving the object of your admiration

is but a matter of due diligence.

Maria . . .

object desirable, desire of all mankind

can I, a simple poet, a reluctant scholar, a man tortured

by the weakness of romanticism, a child of the earth

born of peasants, seeker of knowledge and intelligence

can I ever hope to honor you?

Maria . . .

once your name was bestowed

your greatness became inescapable!

Your beauty, expected . . . the reality, undeniable

all one need do is behold you . . .

after that there is no hope of denial!

Maria . . .

I write not of the mystique

I write not of the legend of the name

I write of the person . . . the actual woman

The woman that you are, the one that confronts me

You!

Okay, so I refuse to start every verse with your name

because I am rebellious and a non-conformist

Even God's patience is tested

because I accused him of being a glory monger

Maybe that is why when I asked him for a soul-mate

God sent me a woman named . . . Maria

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Four . . .

Conversation with Marmalade about My Girl

By Stormcat

Stormcat

My Girl is starting to communicate and respond to my words and messages more openly. It makes me feel optimistic that I really have found . . .

Marmalade

(Wow I really like the way you rub my shoulder when you’re talking to me)

Stormcat

You know I think that what she is telling me is that she is really scared to trust anyone at face value because always in the past, at least for her, people told her how they felt as a way of manipulating her feelings toward them so that they could find out what those feelings were and then use them to their own advantage

Marmalade

(Why is it so nice to sit by the fire next to you? Do you always make everyone feel so comfortable?)

Stormcat

Well, now that you mention it that is something I try to do. I just want happiness around me.

Marmalade

(I can see that, you're the first human who has worried enough to find me a blanket to put over me when I'm in my bed. So you're really taken with this woman, , , ?)

Stormcat

Oh yes! I only met her once, so far, but I knew from reading what she wrote, and the pictures that she posted, that she was going to be spectacular. The thing is that I think I might have blown it because I told her in poems and messages that I am already in love with her and, You Know, how can anybody be in love with someone that they only met once? Unless they're desperate or something!

Marmalade

(Oh silly man! True love always happens immediately!)

Stormcat

But, you know, it's scary for those of us who, in the past, have misjudged love and been hurt by it!

Marmalade

(You didn't misjudge love, you misjudged a person, or several persons, and were taken in by their display of love that wasn't real! You want to blame yourself for misjudging rather than allowing that it was the subterfuge of the other person manipulating love to their own advantage.)

Stormcat

So, , , how can I be sure that the love I feel for my Girl is real, and true, and the kind that will last forever?

Marmalade

(That's actually three questions. . .

Okay . . . It's real because you both feel it!

It will be true when you are both willing to make it true!

And it will be the kind of love that will last forever when you and your Girl are both able to pledge your souls to each other and put all your time, energy, spirit, effort and commitment into making it last forever.)

Stormcat

Hey . . . you're pretty smart for a dog!

Marmalade

Ya ya . . . so how about scratching me under my chin . . .

Monday, December 23, 2013

Three . . .

The Poet and his Muse

By Stormcat

I work otherwise to survive!

I need to write a poem now

but my kitten wants attention

she needs it NOW and she is so

wonderful that I can't deny it.

How could I?

She is why I live. So how can I

ever think of anything ahead

of tending to her every need.

So what, that I have to write.

So what, that I have to work!

What a pleasure to be with

such compelling beauty who

admires my ability to protect

and conquer and provide.

Big loving eyes, long black hair . . .

It's natural for me. I am a man

of men and being thus I desire

her, as she is woman of women.

Everything I do is for her!!!!!

I come home to her . . .

She gets inside my coat and

looks up at me, closes her big

green eyes and basks in warm

protection. Safe at last!!!!!

Alas, I am but a slave!

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Two . . .

Coffee

by Stormcat

"I'm going to get another . . ."

“Okay Darling,” I answered,

and I craned my neck to watch as she walked

away from me

toward the coffee counter.

Perhaps I should feel ashamed for thinking those thoughts.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

One . . .
I'm kicking off a personal quest beginning on this winter solstice December 21, 2013 with an attempt to post all my poems here in one place for a Solar year. Some old, some new . . . . I'm naming my project "Via Solaris" (the way of the sun) after the same sun calendar sculpture by John Van Alstine.

Dancing Alone

By Stormcat

I'm not sure about my father but

I think I love my mother.

It isn't that it is

it's that it's disturbing to admit.

After all,

Society dictates absoluteness

in that regard.

So I look at myself in the mirror

and think, on an ordinary day, that

I really don't look that wonderful

That's when I don't like myself,

in spite of all the wonder.

That's when I question my worth

the most!

Now it's ten o'clock on yet another

Monday night!

Before I even realize it, it will be

Ten o'clock

on yet another Friday night.

Another week will have passed

without any accomplishment.

It simply feels like I'm drowning

but it doesn't really matter.

A person can't drown

who is already dead.

Perfection?

To be human is to be

beautifully flawed.

Seems, after all these years, like

there is no one-and-only for me.

Four decades, two failed marriages,

countless attempts . . .

Still no soul-mate.

Must I end, rattling around in this

large house with one cat?

I always dreamed

that my beautiful dance partner

fell in love with me.

I assumed I needed a partner to dance

Today I went upstairs where the floor is

large and empty (no lights or eyes)

Today, I tried dancing alone. . .

Monday, April 8, 2013

This was the date of my first blog post. Just leaving it here as a marker for when I started blogging.

By the way this day April 8 2013 happens to be my mother's 83rd birthday.

Another interesting coincidence the legendary race horse Storm Cat (Grandson of Secretariat) died on Wednesday April 24, 2013, a mere 16 days after Stormcat (the poet) Published his first poem