Victory is mine!
Claws and fur are top of the pecking order
All the childless cat ladies rejoice
As we protect our couches from so many threats...
Just not our cats
Photo of Maisie atop her favourite chair
P.S. Technically, if my children have grown up am I still a childless cat lady? I suspect not. But who cares? Well, aside from those who get their kicks out of controlling others.
Have a great...until I post again.
Kia kaha
A.J. Ponder
Other poems with cats:
I have no patience for poetry
The lines are grey
And writhe in meaningless sludge
I have not the stomach for poetry
How many people died today
Heartsick for birdsong?
I have not the will for poetry
Pretty words on a pretty page
Made from the bleached bones of children
And yet here the ink flows
Indelible
A.J. Ponder
Just finished this one. It's been here for a while, sitting with its sadness and horror. And yes, I was riffing off this protest verse from Marwan Makhoul:
'in order for me to write poetry that isn’t
political, I must listen to the birds
and in order to hear the birds
the warplanes must be silent’
– Marwan Makhoul, Palestinian Poet
More links:
Poems for Palestine: https://publishersforpalestine.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/02/poems_for_palestine_online.pdf
Other Palestinian poetry:https://tracyabell.com/2023/11/11/palestinian-poetry/
Marwan Makhoul: Poetry, Prose, and Identity Politics: https://www.palestine-studies.org/en/node/232229
"Suck it up, be quiet, you're hurting the cause
How very dare you, it's time to hit pause
Don't stand up and don't fight back
Not even with paper
It's unseemly, it's rude and it's just not done
Clutch your pearls quick, everyone
And no talk of systemic abuse by the boys
'Cos, they'll throw out their toys,
With their bollocks claim
"It's the rough and tumble of politics"
So suck it up, Buttercup
They have a country to pillage
And turn about is only fair play
For bullies policing the meek
It's not for gravy trays shielded by money—
Money that doesn't want a better world
If it has to pay 2c in taxes
A.J. Ponder
Hiya,
I'm hoping that a little righteous anger will lift your heart today, and maybe also have you looking beneath claims of bullying to see if there's a culture of bullying—one that picks on the bullied if they dare step out of line.
P.S. Supporting me on ko-fi helps keep me writing poetry and books. Click on the picture and discover my wee ko-fi page. There may even be a few cute pictures of my two lovely cats, as well as some great books to buy.
Find my stories and support my writing on ko-fi I'd love to know which poems you'd like to see in my upcoming
poetry book—2024
The Wallux was whining in the sky,
Whining with all his might
He said he was the chosen one
And, I quote, an "entitled" little blight
Which was not so odd because
He was a self-indulgent little shite
"Oh voters, won't you vote for us,
Our eyes are very blue."
"And we will hurt the people
Who aren't you," the Seapeter quickly cried
"And we have gifts," The Wallux added,
Just wait to see what is inside.
Mother voter eyed them warily
But her kin were keen
Come on, they said, let's go and walk
After all, our Mum is mean
And so the voters strayed
with promises of green.
The Sea was smiling sulkily
Smiling with all his might
While the Peter led the Wallux around
By the balls of blight
"Come and deal," the Wallux crowed
While the Peter shrugged and said, "Well, I think I might."
And soon the Wallux and the Seapeter
Had become a thing. So now all three heads
Were as wet as wet could be,
And racist as heck to boot
Their smiles as slick and smarmy
As an old jackbooted coot
"Do you suppose," the Wallux said,
His greed so plain to see
"If we should fire the workers
There'd be more money for me,"
"Oh yes," the Seapeter heads cried
"Then you can give the rest to me."
With fork and knife and serving spoon
They tucked into the feast
"I weep for me," the Wallux said:
"Please, deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he dumped
Public sector jobs of every size
"It's such a shame," the Wallux said,
"That we can't fire some more."
"True that," Seapeter agreed
"I'd love to settle every score."
The Wallux rubbed his hands
"Maybe next time,
"I think the voters are getting sore."
And with that, the Wallux heaved his paunchy gut
And took his own pay rise,
(with sighs as to its size)
And so I'm asking you, dear voter
Shall we let this monster have it's run?
Or shall we tell the entitled blights
Their days destroying NZ are done.
Hi, thanks for reading.
If you enjoy my poetry, you can help me publish more poems like this one by supporting me on Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/ajponder
Feel free to drop me a line to say hello, or tell me which poems you'd like to see in my upcoming poetry book.
A.J.No, it's not Tuesday, and hopefully this is going to be the quickest poem I've ever written—and all because I HATE absolutely LOATHE corporates and big money lobbying (bribing & or threatening) politicians to act against the best interests of us—the people the politicians are supposed to be serving.
Well, the ciggy people bought our pollies
And now we have the smokes
Death and taxes is the joke
But the doctors aren't laughing.
And oil bought the roads but we can't know
How or why
Just that the roads must happen while our ferries die
While tourists and families are stranded.
And the landlords stormed the parliament and
Gave themselves a rise
While starving children of their lunches
And eating Bellamy pies
Yes, they deny children while troughing it on the public dime.
And so those pollies are so happy
They've raided NZ lives for their greed
And the lobbyists are happy
They've paid pennies to make billions for big company greed
While our public servants are fired including those protecting our primary industries from tragedy.
So this post is to inform you
That this very Monday eve at 5pm 8 April
Is the deadline to say enough
We don't want bribery to succeed.
Yup this is a last-minute PSA: Monday 5pm is the deadline for responses to the lobbyists gutting of the proposed lobbying code of conduct that we so desperately needed to keep bribery and the revolving door in line.
I have nothing but words to shine into the darkness
There are no dollars to buy your opinion
No marketing team to tell you what to think
Only words, and even those are murdered,
Hidden under the rubble of truth
All while oil lights the water
And munitions light the sky
And the smoke, the smoke
Is choking, burning, like phosphorous
Right down to the bone
Can you see beneath the noise?
If you look very carefully, you'll see
The gold-plated shackles
Placed on our democracy
Stretch to
An instant of clarity before
Twisted
Lies
Are
Spruiked
Wound over our eyes
And through our hearts
Choking our souls and silencing
Our screams with the nightmare cloth
Of kleptocratic dreams
A shroud of complacency
Woven from green dye and oil
While money buys the signal
And buries the noise
Can you see the silence?
The voices fallen quiet
Can you see the silence beneath the screen?
A.J. Ponder
Well, I'm not sure if enjoyed is the right word, but I hope the poem has sparked something for you. It's one of my #protest poetry pieces.
If you enjoyed it, you may also enjoy some of my other protest pieces linked below, or if you'd rather have some fairy tale poetry my Portal to Fairytale poetry is here, or one of my personal favourites, Time Wyrm.
