An Introduction for Conversations With My Cat
I have always been one to talk to myself. I cannot remember a time when I didn't. Conversations within my head always sound better then the ones I have with actual people. I don't get tongue tied. I speak clearly, no mispronounced sounds or words. I come up with the correct words when needed. I don't get interrupted and always win any argument. All the while sounding witty and intelligent. I do ask questions of myself, and most times answer them. Every so often I'll tell myself to shut up. Since I don't listen to myself, I never do. So talking out loud to “things” such as dogs, cats, computers, trees, cars, etc. became a natural extension.
Years back, I played with writing poetry. I wrote on a computer then as well. Had I used paper, a whole tree would have been needed for just a single poem. I can play and fuss over and over with a single word. Oh the trees I must have saved. Then I stopped and stored them away in a closet to collect dust bunnies.
The driving force behind this revival was a blog posting of mine called He Never Had Ketchup Again. This posting resulted from my dads passing early in 2015. Originally, I thought this was going to stay a posting. Then a crazy idea got ahold of me, to convert this posting into a poem. From there the whole concept of writing poetry again quickly developed. I very much enjoyed creating that posting. Also, dealing with the feelings that resulted from this loss became easier as I wrote it.
I knew more emotional issues would arise from dads passing as well dealing with things settling his estate and Mom's needs. So writing poetry would become one of the outlets for dealing with the ups and downs along with all these stresses. Having all those earlier poems to choose from was comforting, but creating new material, that was the big draw. Because of this, I decided to continue writing poetry. Soon afterward, the poetry quarter of my web site was created. From there these “poetry books” emerged. When the blog posting was converted into a poem, it was placed into another “book” called Never Went Home Again.
This “poetry book” arose from an idea while sitting on my couch with one of my cats, Bastet or B as I call her. It was the day after New Years, and we had just gotten back home from spending the evening with some friends down near Kath’s family farm. Kath had worked that day so she was ready to get into bed shortly after we returned. I lingered downstairs like I sometimes do.
Late at night sometimes I start to get introspective. What I did, what I didn't do. What I said or thought I would or should have that day. Think about the people that had made me mad. Replay the interactions with the ones I love and the joy that brought. Thank God that I was allowed another day to live.
So sitting there with B, I started thinking about the last few days, New Years Eve and New Year's Day. All that I had done. From working, to seeing mom, watching the ball drop and a few football games. I started telling B that I felt good about these last few days and all that had happen. That I had gotten what I wanted done. How I enjoyed myself over the long weekend and that I was as ready as I could be for the coming work week and year.
When I got this idea for these poems, I was not sure how I wanted them to look, how to write them, or the kind of format. What I had decided on was that they would always be short or at least a quick read. Some of these conversations did happen while others are simply made up.
I will easily admit, these poems may not be all that good, no prize winning poems may be coming from this little corner of the world. I will do my very best in writing them, but the priority is simply releasing the pent up stresses, worries and anxieties.
Thank you for your interest. Thank you for letting me indulge myself. Mostly, I thank you for sharing this journey even though I might not have been the best of company. Your companionship has meant the world to me.
Enjoy and meow
Doug Thornhill (dct)