Friday, October 17, 2014

Crafting Blooming Howls: That Old Cat Magic

This is a little bit of poetry I've been crafting on and off for... uh... some years now. I'm not happy with it still.  I haven't quite figured out how to get it from where it is to where it needs to be. I either need to take some away, reword some, or add some...

I have a melody that runs through my head when I read it... a slow, sexy, smoky-bar-jazz melody, with a dark, rich N'awlins Creole voice singing the words. So maybe "poem" isn't the right moniker, but many poems become songs, don't they?

Tell me if y'all can hear the jazz, honeychile...

There’s somethin’ just a little strange
Waftin’ through the air
Dark outside, moon’s up for fair
Lil’ shadow prowlin’ round
Rise to moon, ‘til sun’s gone down

It’s that old cat magic
Black as night, green as grass
It’s that old cat magic
Soft and hard, slinky like jazz
Sharp and sweet, blood runs hot
Tell me once, tell me again
Whisperin’ soft to the wind
It’s that old cat magic
Come driftin’ by again

It was the old days
Everythin’ was sunny and gold
Eyes glowed free and claws stepped light
Not a mouse or a rat to be seen in sight
Goddess laughed, bright eyes smiled
Eyes that shone, green as the Nile

Temple bells soundin’ far and wide
Little black masks and tails confide
Sooty paws held aloft, blue eyes sparklin’ in the shade
Secrets of the Gods, ours to keep
We’re guardians and warriors, don’t you know?
Best be off now, for we protect our own!

Lady Bright, in lands to the north
Begged a boon, from a couple of cats, of course!
Pull my wheels and I’ll feed you well
Won’t you fight beside me
Against Fenrir and his hell?

Across the sea, Highlands growin’ green
There lived a beast both fair and mean
Huntin’ round and round great circles of stone
Teeth and claws like giant thorns
Great wild eyes gatherin’ the storms

Witch’s broom, of cinnamon brush
Brings a purr within the hush
Candles and cards, Circle cast in fire
Smell the static, fur set to flight
Stars reflect like a thousand lights

Memory holds, in blood and bone
Hardwired in to whiskers twitchin’
Mouse will hide, birds all a-quiet
Boneyard silenced, when velvet paws alight
Teeth are bared, laughin’ and whole
Eyes ablaze in green and gold
Shine like jewels, glowin’ hard and cold
With ne’er a blink, seein’ right into your soul

Better keep your eyes on your steps, Jack
Cause you never quite know where that lil cat is at
Eyes’ll flash, claws and teeth a-gleam
and then you’ll see
That little black cat is me.

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Crafting Blooming Howls...

It's that time of year again - time for pumpkins plump on the vine (and in our supermarkets), for cider simmering in our cauldrons, for the trees to shed their suits of green and don their gold and crimson gowns (boy, do they know how to party or what?)... and time for Witches in Fiction, a la' Magaly Guerrero. You may remember the first time in April, when your Artful White Fox celebrated in style, dancing on the bones with Magaly and many other friends of the blogosphere. Last October, I celebrated Halloween with her during All Hallow's Grim, telling a story of vampires who make a pact with Death.

Magaly has challenged us to "...discuss, share and delight in those Halloween projects we have always wanted to enjoy, but have never before got around to developing." Her only  real requirement is for the entry to have a witch or magic in it. So here's to October, to warm spiced cider and gloriously gowned greenery, and the wild autumn wind chilling the world in preparation for winter's cold sleep and the blanket of snow the persimmon seeds promise us. 

Won't you join us for a crafty celebration this October?