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Title of Poem: Cat Daze
Poet: Laura Stamps
Rating: 4 laurels out of 5 laurels.
The poem "Cat Daze" is a poem about two kittens whose heads are trapped separately in two boxes.of tissue.
The poem is a free verse with only one stanza with 36 lines.
The poem begins with:
"The clouds today
are swift chalk strokes
skipping across the faux
marble of a cerulean sky,"
I check the dictionary to see what "cerulean" means. Cerulean means ":azure blue": It is a good thing I checked the dictionary because I erroneously thought "cerulean" refers to ocean or blue whales.
I also have to check the word "faux" in the dictionary . I thought "faux" means "blunder" as in "faux pas". I was partially right. The word "faux" means "false". The phrase "faux marble" means "false marble".
Laura likes to use metaphors in her poem of one stanza consisting of more than 30 lines.
She compares the clouds to chalk strokes in the first two lines of the poem.
She compares the kitten to a pilgrim at the end of the poem..
"I remove the box, and he rolls
on the floor, a pilgrim
happy to be free, as relieved
as any of us when we emerge
from our wanderings
in the sunless valley
to embrace the glorious
leaf-shine of the light."
For people who likes kittens, this poem will be interesting.
The poem is nominated "Best Poem of the Year 2004" for the Muses Review Awards 2004.
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by Laura Stamps
Source: Cat Daze, p.5
The clouds today
are swift chalk strokes
skipping across the faux
marble of a cerulean sky,
and I am typing, when the cat
that's always in trouble
wobbles at me, wearing
a square tissue box
over her head, weaving
in a world that is suddenly
as murky as the ebony
gloss of a crow.
I twist the box from her neck,
and she gallops across
the hall, her ears
swimming with the slick
voice of mischief.
Later, interrupted again,
I turn toward an odd
thumping behind my chair,
where my youngest cat
slumps in the corner,
the tissue box planted
on his head, while he bangs
against the wall, a prisoner
in a cardboard cage
as opaque as the petals
of a a black pansy.
I remove the box, and he rolls
on the floor, a pilgrim
happy to be free, as relieved
as any of us when we emerge
from our wanderings
in the sunless valley
to embrace the glorious
leaf-shine of the light.
Title of poem: Magnolia Moon
Poet: Magnolia Moon
Rating: 5 laurels out of 5 laurels
This poem has two cats as its background.. One cat is inside the house looking at a cat outside of the house at night of full moon. .
I wondered why the poem is entitled "Magnolia Moon".
Magnolia Moon is a moon that looks so white like magnolia flowers.
On a deeper analysis, the poem is about the female character who meditates that she is a spirit rather than the body.
The poem metaphorically says: The body will fold (die) and the spirit will fly ( set free) and twirl like a thistle in the wind with arms like the white wings of moth.
"So I close my eyes and focus
on the fact that I am not
my body, that one day
this body shall roll over
and fold its mossy wings-
but I am divine, and my spirit
will always fly, making today
another day for rejoicing,
for twirling like a thistle
in the wind, my arms a swirl
of moth wings white as summer
magnolias, my heart marbled
with star-song, turning
beneath the jeweled purse
of a southern moon."
The poet compares a notebook to a traveller:
"and a purple notebook becomes
an accidental traveler
when it slips from my fingers
to skid across the sofa,
landing in the green sea
of the carpet, where it floats
for a moment, its alphabets
and wisdom content to rest"
This poem is nominated the "Best Poem of the Year 2004" for the Muses Review Awards for Poetry.
by Laura Stamps
Source: Cat Daze, (2004) p.20
My youngest cat is a moon
child, governed not by a single
phase - a full moon or first
quarter - but by every twitch
and tumble of the lunar body.
An hour before dawn,
and a purple notebook becomes
an accidental traveler
when it slips from my fingers
to skid across the sofa,
landing in the green sea
of the carpet, where it floats
for a moment, its alphabets
and wisdom content to rest
next to a curious cat agitated
all morning by a glimpse
of something furry and feral
outside the window: another
cat slinking through the tall
grasses under the white paw
of a September moon.
So I close my eyes and focus
on the fact that I am not
my body, that one day
this body shall roll over
and fold its mossy wings-
but I am divine, and my spirit
will always fly, making today
another day for rejoicing,
for twirling like a thistle
in the wind, my arms a swirl
of moth wings white as summer
magnolias, my heart marbled
with star-song, turning
beneath the jeweled purse
of a southern moon.
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Copyright 2004-2005 by Laura Stamps.All right reserved.
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