Somebody

Somebody had the audacity to call my cat 'dehydrated and scruffy'. Well, she is sixteen - one hundred and twelve in 'cat years'. Damn cheek *scowl*. I had to defend her though. Insult my cat, insult me...at your peril. Pistols at dawn, anyone?

Flowers in Bloom

mcflowers2
Originally uploaded by Bella the Cat.

They Say

Some say
Contentment is a fool’s emotion
Empty days pass

Others say
That only the grave brings serenity
The gravedigger hovers

And many say
That only slavery
Brings security

And then there are those
Who burst onto the scene
Blooming like summer roses
Pleading for liberty

Refurbished

My kitchen has been refurbished.

A forum to which I regularly 'contribute' (although some might question that) has a thread entitled 'What are you listening to?' Hmmm, well for most of last week I was listening to the delightful sound of drills and chainsaws. My flat felt like it was no longer my own. Every room, apart from my bedroom was a building site full of big, strapping Polish men who were impeccably polite. Bella the Cat was confined to my bedroom, curled up on the pillow, oblivious to it all. The interior designer persuaded me to have pale violet walls and floor tiles - pics to come. I capitulated. After all she is the expert (X being an unknown quantity and spurt being a sudden forcible gush or jet ;-))

Bella - Close Up

Bella - Close Up
Originally uploaded by Bella the Cat.

And personal...

Dancing

On the edge
Dancing on broken glass
Ideas too pale
Too insipid
To be mine

And so we dance
Adored and applauded
By our audience
The stage is ours
We waste precious hours
Entertaining strangers

Who clamour
For the kind of glamour
That we provide
But they will never know
That we are both dead inside

Why is it...

that I still feel compelled to post the following to online fora:

R.E: Self-Harm (Copying and pasting from a post I contributed to another forum. It's not possible to plagiarise oneself).

4 things we need to take into consideration

1. A teenager may not have developed sufficiently to articulate complex emotions
2. lack of medical/anatomical knowledge so that they may genuinely believe that what you and I can see is a 'superficial' wound/injury is fatal.
3. they may be acting out trauma/abuse that they cannot/are afraid to
articulate.
4. And finally, it may indeed be an attention seeking ploy but the question needs to be asked: why do they feel that they need attention. Surely attention is a basic human need, nourishment for the spirit. Why then is it regarded as so 'unnatural' to seek it?
__________________

It makes no difference anyway.

Finally Opened

Finally Opened
Originally uploaded by Bella the Cat.

With the cover still on. A virgin Mac - about to be deflowered.

Angel

Angel-children
Singing in Sunday school
Daemon brats, hovering
On the line between
Heaven and hell
Cowering, beneath the birch
For this is all that they deserve
‘A burden on the parish’
From the moment they were born.

IMac

At last - I have converted - well, not quite. It does feel a little like changing religions though. My G4 iMac arrived last Wednesday. It is most certainly a beautiful little machine. Style over content. I now have four lappies and one desktop - each with a different OS and yet linked by a Belkin router - Linux Mandrake, Win 98, Win XP and now OSX. Never say I am not diverse. The next purchase will be a Mac Mini. Off to listen to the latest edition of MacCast (a little too evangelical for my taste.)

Cat in the Window

100_0083
Originally uploaded by Bella the Cat.

Gazing at the world beyond the glass...gazed over...like my eyes

Lost Voice

A light flicks on in my head
I am transparent, like an x-ray
Amidst a multitude of Lilliputians
They swarm around my feet
Anything to ingratiate themselves
With this local literary crowd
They click their tiny heels and bow
But I remain detached, disinterested
I yawn – a huge cat-like yawn
And long to be somewhere, anywhere else

I lean back on the crimson sofa
Scarlet skirts spread out before me
These shades of red collide and wisely
All other colours flee. They disperse
And hang in the air, barely visible
And ‘Red’ occupied her place on the throne

They call my name and I stand
I walk; I take my place at the podium
And squirm beneath the collective gaze
Of this uncalled for audience
For I was not the one who summoned them
I do not require their affection
I do not require their attention
I do not require their servitude
I open my mouth to speak but the voice
That emerges is not my own

My real voice is alone
And, oh so far away.

Mute

I am mute.

I choke against every morsel, it sticks in throat, down it slides to a bloated tummy and, finally, the fat will cleave to my bones and the little girl inside me will retreat. Will I ever be able to reach her, because Bella, to her credit, is still as affectionate and nowhere near as BellaCat and hostile as the cats we hear roaming the streets every night. She is mainly an indoor cat now. I think she is intimidated by the younger, more-confidant bully cats who have taken over the entire area. Bella herself was a bully cat awhile ago. Perhaps these cats Bella is so afraid of have returned to take their revenge. Bella is now 16 years old. In 'cat years' she'd be nearly three-hundred. She is very miffed at the Queen's failure to send her a telegram.

She is now a fervent Republican
See, I told you cats are fickle
That's why they don't have the vote ;-)

close up of bellacat

close up of bellacat
Originally uploaded by Bella the Cat.

Savagery

His savagery penetrates me
I detect something unearthly
In his nature, at his core. Something
Sublime, celestial, a self-appointed deity
He is everything to me

But others do not see
What I see. They see something
Bestial, a throwback and we wince
As the whips crack. So we
Retire, abandon all that we desire

Our worldy goods – an impressive
Funeral pyre. We watch as the fire
Reaches higher, reaches higher
And then we turn from the world,
Enveloping ourselves in one another

Knock, FFS!

Slightly annoyed. Waited in all yesterday for Lynx Express Limited to deliver my shiny, new iBook. At six o'clock I discovered that someone had attempted to deliver it. He must have tapped on the front door. The note he pushed through the letterbox to tell me that he had been, saw, conquered (or maybe not) was caught up in the net curtain. He had been at one o'clock. I was definitely in and did not hear a thing. Why didn't he ring me? Surely he carries a mobile 'phone. Grrrrr. frustrated and annoyed. Another day of waiting. I'll take the earphones off (industrial strength because of the Madwoman in the Attic.) I did inform them of this. I told them to knock loudly.

Waiting...waiting...waiting...

Like a child on Christmas Eve.

Pale Flowers on Pale Walls

02 March 2006
Originally uploaded by Bella the Cat.

Words Flow

Skin shrivelling, shivering,
Shrinking within, imprisoned
I am decaying, listening
As words flow from the gigolo
Foundering beside me
A hapless harlequin curled
In my fist, feigning fondness

It is all moonshine
He will never be mine
He is my courier, singing
Bringing me messages
From the world beyond
These pale walls
As I am crumbling

The metropolis calls
And everything falls

Decision

I eventually decided on one of these...
It should be arriving within the next few days.

Turning Away

Turning Away
Originally uploaded by Bella the Cat.

Gossips in the Suburbs

Gossips in the suburbs
Dwelling upon my debauchery
Their noses twitch. Their tongues wag
Imprisoned within my dry, sardonic eye
I am hollow now and my highbrow
Interests arouse their suspicion
I have violated some sacred tradition

My self-sufficiency is my deficiency
My long-forgotten flaws are resurrected
And the devil drives and drags
My spirit out of the mire
My life-force wells up, it overflows
In the end I was led astray
Or so they say

Those mendacious madams surround me
I will not succumb to their demands
For this is the role I play
The evil bitch, the local witch
And viciously they turn on me
'The time for waiting is over,' they say,
'And now you are going to pay.'

Windfall. Paltry Snowfall.

Thanks to my mother I have some extra money in my bank account. 'Call it a late Christmas present,' she said. I never asked for it. What shall I spend it on? One of these? Or one of these? Or maybe both. I have already spent a percentage of it on this and this. And I shall, of course, be spending some on some luxury toys for Bella the Cat.

I wonder if it will snow again tomorrow. We had about half an inch this morning and yesterday. I pine for the days of my childhood when the snow was ankle-deep and school was cancelled and we would spend weeks in hibernation reading book after book after book...