Category Archives: Digital Art & Photos

Fourth Kitten Rescued

Some of you know that a few months ago we discovered a mama cat with four kittens under our front porch. It has been two months or so since we were able to capture three kittens, but one remained at large with the mama…and we think we know who the daddy cat is. There have been several sightings of him in the neighborhood.

Two of the white kittens are now happily being spoiled by a new mom and dad and the runt is our Frankie.

I have been feeding the fugitives every morning and night seeking to gain their trust. The mama cat has warmed to me letting me pet her briefly as I put the food bowl down, but the kitten has been a formidable escape artist. I had set up an animal crate with a long boa feather lure on the porch (everyone thought I was crazy). As I returned from my morning walk on Wednesday, the kitten took the bait and I was able to capture it!

Now comes the process of taming the hiss and spit out of this little one! I have spent several sessions rocking, smooth talking and petting this kitten, wrapping it tightly in a blanket to protect myself from claws! (Safety first 😉), and this evening we had a real breakthrough! I was able to loosen the blanket and rock the kitten to sleep! He/she is not likely to remember our tender encounter next time I come for a visit, but each time gets a little less stressful for both of us. I’m a sucker. I think this one may be a keeper too.

Next on the game plan is getting Mama captured and spayed. Then on to her waiting forever home to live the life she deserves. I’ve been a bit busy this week between work, kitten rescue and tending to my resident pack…but watching this little one sleep in my arms has made it all worth it. Have a lovely weekend. You know what I’ll be doing! 😉🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾❤️


Oviellejo #7 – it’s not normal

it’s not normal

it’s become the new normal here
we live in fear

school children practice how to hide
safety denied

lame offerings of thoughts and prayers
proof pols don’t care

that danger’s lurking everywhere
they must protect gun owner’s rights
especially if the killer’s white
we live in fear, safety denied, proof pols don’t care

~kat


The Oviellejo is an Old Spanish verse form (derived from ovillo, a ball of yarn). A stanza consists of 10 lines, with a rhyme scheme of AABBCCCDDC. The second line of each rhyme scheme, Line 2,4,6, is short line of up to 5 syllables. The last line is a “redondilla,” a “little round” that collects all three of the short lines.


Oviellejo #5

when I am hanging by a thread
heart filled with dread

on darkest days, and longest nights
I seek the light

where shadows fall away from view
it helps me through

I think about what’s good and true
this life is not about extremes
for those who hope and dare to dream
heart filled with dread, I seek the light, it helps me through

~kat


The Oviellejo is an Old Spanish verse form (derived from ovillo, a ball of yarn). A stanza consists of 10 lines, with a rhyme scheme of AABBCCCDDC. The second line of each rhyme scheme, Line 2,4,6, is short line of up to 5 syllables. The last line is a “redondilla,” a “little round” that collects all three of the short lines.


Tired

Hello all. I know I’m behind in my daily poems and I have yet to read and comment on your lovely Twittering Tales. I promise to get to them soon. But I have worked a total of 20 hours in the last few days an I am exhausted! I’ll leave you with this…a few snapshots of my world away from my cubical…the creatures that greet me when I come home every night…have a lovely night. ❤️


grief repeating – Monday with the Muse

BlueMuse

Painting, “Blue” by Kat Myrman

grief repeating

even now, grief
repeats itself
whispering,
“what hope for
love survives
here”…

some
see only
dusty
reflections
in blue

~kat


A Blackout poem inspired by the poem below “Anne Frank Huis” by Andrew Motion.

Anne Frank Huis
by Andrew Motion
Even now, after twice her lifetime of grief
and anger in the very place, whoever comes
to climb these narrow stairs, discovers how
the bookcase slides aside, then walks through
shadow into sunlit room(s), can never help
 
but break her secrecy again. Just listening
is a kind of guilt: the Westerkirk repeats
itself outside, as if all time worked round
towards her fear, and made each stroke
die down on guarded streets. Imagine it—

four years of whispering, and loneliness,
and plotting, day by day, theAllied line
in Europe with a yellow chalk. What hope
she had for ordinary love and interest
survives her here, displayed above the bed
 
as pictures of her family; some actors;
fashions chosen by Princess Elizabeth.
And those who stoop to see them find
not only patience missing its reward,
but one enduring wish for chances
 
like my own: to leave as simply
as I do, and walk at ease
up dusty tree-lined avenues, or watch
a silent barge come clear of bridges
settling their reflections in the blue canal.

Andrew Motion, “Anne Frank Huis” from Coming In To Land: Selected Poems 1975—2015.  Copyright © 2017 by Andrew Motion.  Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers Inc..
Source: Coming In To Land: Selected Poems 1975—2015 (HarperCollins, 2017)