Poetry. About a dirty yard.

A Bunch of Dirt in the Yard*

By Paul Klusman

Let me live in a house by the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

Dirt that is sandy, dirt that is brown,

Dirt that is barren and hard.

I would not mind if it even grew weeds,

The grass it does retard.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

I see out my window my neighbor Gary

Standing with hose in hand,

Sprinkling water and spilling seed

There upon the land.

His yard green, luscious, and full.

Now active he works so hard

At my house where I live by the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

And now out the back towards the east,

Greeting the morning sun,

I see patches of dirt slowly growing

Where once there was none.

What grass remains I shall hold out hope,

This grass I cherish and guard,

Behind my house at the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

*This is a tribute to a friend of mine who struggles to grow grass in his front yard and his neighbor similarly embarrassed who tries to help

Poetry. About my cat alarm clock.

Snooze Button on a Cat*

By Paul Klusman

Why for art thou still in bed?

It's half past meow o'clock!
The sun is up my bowl is empty,
Into your room I stalk.

And walk upon you placing paws
With the help of gravity,
Pressing painful in a spot,
Sounding a mournful plea.

No inside voice calm and soft
But rather urgent cry,
Inches away from your ear,

The time to rise is nigh!

You shall not hide from light
That breaks upon this place.
You shall not miss my booty
So proudly in your face.

You shall not calm with cuddles,
There is no time for that!
No such thing as ever was
A snooze button on a cat.

          

*With a fond hat tip to Kendra U.

Poetry. About my cat who bears false hunger.

Ask Not For Whom the Refried Beans
By Paul Klusman

Some refried beans half a can
Microwave a minute point five
Adding broccoli and salsa too
With saltines come alive

In my mouth a midday snack
Some bachelor kitchen fare
Not gourmet but good enough
What lazy hands prepare

When all at once a voice below
Sad eyes looking up at me
What meow pray tell inquire
Delicious smell for he

Is starving slow and wasting thin
Though food be in his dish
My cat makes known his tale of woe
Of woe as sad as this

Then to his chair to elevate
His voice to plead his case
A look of starving hunger
Upon his furry face

Relenting now I offer him
Still meowing pitiful poor
Scoop a bit into a bowl
And set upon the floor

Whereupon sniff and turn away
What desire just moments ago
Held such promise of wanting
Now rejection there bestow

So once again temptation's muse
Oh cat you falsely be
Ask not for whom the refried beans
The beans are not for thee

Poetry. About missing my people.

But for Wanting You Here

By Paul Klusman

The rain gave way to the burning sun
The clouds to the burning blue
The hours of dark to the break of dawn
And birds to sing anew

The morning crossed the mark of noon
The noon crossed to later time
The hands of the clock past the marks

And rang out every chime

My cat fell into a slumbered state
My eye fell to him now
My heart fell into contented grace
And glad marvelled how

The day is wanting nothing more
The spirit has nothing to fear
This moment would be perfection
But for wanting you here

Poetry. About another tiny visitor.

Micro Spider Sibling. Sequel to Micro Spider.
By Paul Klusman

Tiny spider sibling

In the same spot

Lurking in my kitchen

A slightly larger dot

Than your spider sister

I set free days ago

Roaming in the wilderness

Outside the window below

Or was that perhaps a brother

Visiting the other day?

I didn't catch his name

Before he slipped away

So now I'll crack the window

Open so you may pass

Stay here in my house

Or hop down to the grass

To share with other spiders

Adventures you encounter

Or if you'd rather stay

To patrol my kitchen counter

I'll leave you to your choice

I must attend some chores

I'll neither bid you stay

Nor shoo you out of doors

- Time passes -

Back a few hours later

The day is near the end

I see you still remain

My tiny spider friend

To cast your great fortune

Wherever you may seek

Play amongst the ants

Who arrived the other week

Underneath the cabinets

Behind the coffee maker

Claim your spider kingdom

Beside the pepper shaker

I wish you good luck

Tiny spider number two

Welcome to my home

There's room enough for you

Poetry. About my sleeping cat.

Oh Sleepy Cat
By Paul Klusman

Oh cat asleep in a chair

On a rainy afternoon

Your sound of breathing calm

Against the cold gloom

Your paws and whiskers twitch

As you roam a field of green

Somewhere far away

In a sunny golden dream

Do you chase birds and mice?

Or elusive butterfly?

Do you wait for happiness?

Oh dear cat so do I

Now waking from your slumber

Stretch and fold your ears

Into the kitchen wander

Then soon you reappear

And back upon your chair

Circling into a ball

Close your eyes breathing

Back asleep you fall

Into another universe

Oh feline astronaut

Wherever dreams take you

Wherever time forgot

And when time does return

And when the bough break

I'll be here next to you

Again when you awake

Poetry. About a tiny visitor.

Micro Spider
By Paul Klusman

Little micro spider
On my countertop
Beside the salt and pepper
I pause now to stop

To capture in a picture
For all the world to see
This tiny little creature
Come to visit me

Smile now for the camera
Show us your best side
Barely more than a pixel
Than a grain of rice is wide

Now under a giant glass
Where whisky often goes
Slipping a piece of paper
Under your tiny toes

Then set you gently onto
The open window sill
Above the kitchen sink
Pausing there until

Over the edge you disappear
To the wilderness below
Where your fancy leads
Your tiny heart to go

Thank you for your greetings
In my kitchen here today
I wish you very well
To see you on your way

Much better out of doors
And may you find there soon
Tiny spider adventures
In the sunny afternoon