The Cat On The Window Seat (Prompt)
by Everlasting Feb 17, 2022
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often, days go by |
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Latest Comments
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2 years ago
by BOB GALLO
Yes Luce I totally see what you described so magnificently. I am so dizzy how powerful your imagination is. It was so vivid, and still a “dream.” Do you know why? because if it was not a " dream" and it was forced, it wouldn’t come this "dreamy." I wanted to say poetic also. But the connection is not necessary from a certain point, but in your case is hard to distinguish one from the other. You could corporate some partS of this back to the poem as well.
The reason that I edited the original comment, was:: as soon as cat comes to the picture, the phrase self-reflection is totally justified and given. But You took the self-reflection to another level, more beautiful, more imaginative and absolutely poetical.
I recommend you keep this piece of writing and work on it, the imagery is so powerful that I totally see the double vision. That is fantastic. Your observation, more than poetical, is visual (of course these two genre always crisscross, but there are degrees of inclinations. Yours, in my opinion is more as a painter. I might be wrong in this, how unrecognizable these to genres always are. I don't know, have you ever urged to paint? Are you good in drawing?
Edited
Dalí is the master of depicting these double visions .
Double vision is so good if someone has the ability of, and can get the hang of it. It is so powerful but people can not see them both (sids) together for long. (needs lots, lots energy) and they fall to the abyss of imprisonment instead of individuality, and worship their Idols:: parties, hoods, their races, religions, ideologies.... everything that justify the idea of the "Self." But the other-side is not that perfect either ( I can explain why.) The ability to switch, and to switch over between the two, is the freedom.
Talk to me girl, you make this loneliness of "The True Minds" and Hearts too (ha ha Shakespeare forgot that.) go away.-
2 years ago
by Everlasting
I used to doodle. I can draw but never spent the time to learn techniques. Art is expensive. On the other hand, writing is free. I used to enjoy coloring. Though, I don’t have an urge to paint. I have an urge to sing. But haha I’m such a terrible singer. Never developed the muscles to sing as I always felt like I couldn’t talk and breath.
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2 years ago
by BOB GALLO
Don't you even think because I love you even more now, I am going to go easy on your poems. I am like Simon in X factor, always tell you as it is. Trump pretends he is like us. He has no respect for the truth.
Sorry enough about myself. (This, is not self-indulgence. I think I have to re-introduce myself to you if you accept my humble friendship.)
I love this poem:
"but on some occasions
woodpeckers peck at my ears"
I like this simple enchanting image. Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication. Like the furthest point from other point in sphere, is the same point itself.
Then this: " even winds pat them with breezes
when their beaks drill
without a flinch at sunflowers seeds"
This is not even your usual bubbly mood which is adorable I must add. You cannot get more poetical than this.
Again the next stanza so beautiful and simple. .
Edited::
sorry I was driving I did not pay attention to the subject, cat. It is cute.
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2 years ago
by Everlasting
Thanks for the comment. I managed to read it before it was edited. I thought about the word “lost” or whether to use a different one. I opted for it. Imagine the cat observing through the window how outside the finches are having a feast so peacefully. How woodpeckers - hardworking, keep working hard even when eating per se. The cat ears hurt just through imagining the constant pecking. Imagine the cat observing the breezes. Almost as if the cat is feeling the breezes patting the woodpecker as a means of telling them that is okay to relax. The cat just by being a spectator is experiencing the moment and his days go by fast just as the food in the bird’s feeder. But there’s some days, when the cat by still watching through the window, he sees his reflection. He gets lost in it. And it’s not necessarily “Narcism”. It can seem that way.
But thinking about it, in order for the glass to show one’s reflection, certain things have to happen. I’m not going to write the science behind it nor do I know it too well. But I do know that sometimes depends on the angle we are, the thickness of the glass, and the light reflected through our eyes. There’s some days the cat just wonders … “why through this window I can see everything outside but there’s some days I can see me? I can spend my days being an spectator without realizing that “I” exists. But there’s some days, that I still am an spectator but it’s as if something is trying to show me that “I” exists.” The cat gets “lost” in his reflection (but he is not “trapped” nor “imprison” in his reflection) rather he gets lost in his reflection in order to pay attention to the overall reflection. The cat is an spectator regardless. He is an spectator for some reason. The question is why?
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