the Cat in the Hat
stands on his tail on my head
spinning his collection de chapeau
haute couture hats of many colors
juggles his among mine
and bouncy bouncy Tigger
fun fun fun
balances a plate
magically precarious
on a bent fork tine.
he cools my face
flapping fans from
dear old aunt Mace
who knew how to blow
hot and bold
or in from the cold
and out with the old.
the smoke he clears
spews forth from my ears
in lieu of frustrated tears
or as telltale exhaust
from over-cranked gears.
I have run full circle
full tilt, frenzied
down hill and up dale
past heaven and hell
beyond the pale
slurped from the mop bucket
of the devil’s woman char
constructed a chair lift
of regrets and resignation
on abyss’ frozen-flamed edge
pullied myself
through grim, in determination.
now I spin the hamster wheel
off the rails
of the status quo
crash the party
of who’s who and what’s what
and kick up my heels
dancing to a drum
off the beaten path.
I hear the voices in my head
testify
to my resurrection
I give them credence
and a ruby slippered
salute
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.
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Thank you!
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My pleasure. 🤗🤣🤔😂😳😅😎🎈🌈🌷🙏
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Back to life, full of energy and yet makes one concerned. Best of luck.
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Thank you
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I LOVE this. Both beautiful and quirky
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Thank you:-) I had a lot of fun with this one
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I bet you did
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😉
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This poem is very tempestuous 👏👍 high speed, screeching tires and smoking rubber and all that 👌
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Thank you!
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Innovative in its cliche grappling way. But cats, needs more cats!
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Thank you Jonathan. Trust me I have many encounters with cats cats in hats hurting cats feral cats Etc there will be cats
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I love the wit in this. Wonderful piece!
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Thank you Sarah
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