Imaginative Heroes and Implicit Cats

There have been quite a few poems written on request lately, but the requesting has - mostly - been that of my own. As have the various ideas and the whole background for the production. Quite like the usual routine. Maybe it has become my routine, by now, all me myself & mine-focused stuffedness, reflections on the mind and introspective poesy... Gaaah, shun the self-communing! Finalmente! ...and consequently, I reckoned it was time for some new impulses. So, here's something slightly different, for a change, and with huge thanks to a dear friend (the Imaginary Hero) who inspired me to write a poem about, well, cats. Not really cat-ish, but somewhat related thereto. Indirect measures, of course. I hardly think she will have realized, nor do I recall our discussion as to have been concerning the topic of this animal in any way whatsoever, at least not specifically, but then again - inspiration tends to take on unforseen courses. Especially when beheld by this po(t)et writer. Our co-operation - mine and Hero's, that is - has so far gained me nothing but increased productivity and loads of interesting results, including some surprising elements of a rather incidental manner, and the latest one proves no exception. I hope she will be content and find a use for it, for the sake of her own creative impulses, and I must say I am indeed pleased with these brilliant, new adventures of artistic exploration. Will be continued. Also - I'm still no good at being an emo. By the by-way, so to speak. That's about it. Conclusions come to an end, here's the piece itself:

"Limber strokes" - [draft, might be longer] - be he for his own devilish
By Scaramouche, the po(t)et, writing applied art for applications' sake only. Not...quite. But it's so much fun to have a proper, designated purpose for my writings. Again. Genuinely fascinating origin, too. Thanks a bunch to my ever-present sources of funny whims and hunches. Will credit when used. This is all strange and peculiar, and involves no clarifying material to explain meaning or content, at all, nor does it bear any resemblance to this other, strikingly similar mission of mine. It just exists, on its own, as something of an art's for art's - what, gallery? I dunno - solely. Contemplation, that's a good definition. Molto bene. Hero suggested morphing, as a key word, which I salute and consent to. Merging of human and animal-like behaviour. And souls. Ditto the chararcteristics. Wee bit creepy, incomprehensible and Poe-inspired as well. Lengthy and elaborate, on top of it. Me like dark pieces. Me not like cats that much. Guess you've got your explanation right there. Enjoy!

half the face to meet the fur
of yellow ribbons in the eyes
and starlit lips behind the grid
like wading by the riveside

look to blue then perserverance
surpassed by far the common vermin
an auditory monarch's realm, hold
mighty wisdom for the worthless

in a state of no allegiance
commited to his plight by honour
seeking freedom nonetheless,
to place a paw upon the double

crawling, creeping in-between
his world made up of balks
yet climbed with importunity
a warring, energetic corpus
**
sinister of flesh and blood and teeth
you catch him on the candid rebound
shoving motions down the drain like flux
to cloak him in the dust of his diminished

all has taught him how to pay forfeit
prescriptive orders come intuitively
and like decorated robes of the foregone
he loiters with indoctrinated pride
**
whole the tail to wag unbended
lighter stripes let patterns break
nothing left for him too sullen
repent another time perchance

the moon reflects the glittering
of dupery and rapid movement
a frivolous but lonesome runner
across the lawn, beaneath, and vanished

whether booted, praised or banished
under door panels or trees
he's a ghostly blending creature
in with crowds or wood or night

single acts or regimentals
terror is for him a curse
forever crowned its jackal champion
be he a devil of his own