Golden Girl

Cleo, stunning and engaging

Ravaged by cancer in 6 weeks

A fast growing tumor behind her nasal passages

Pressing into her ear nose and finally eyes

Cleo's will was strong but cancer is powerful

Possessive to a fault

She owned me not the other way around

She would not allow any other female except her mother in my domicile

Cleo was mistress of my home

What will we do without her?

Beautiful till the end

Her golden silky fur became unkempt

Weight falling like autumn leaves

Me left with no choice

Hope gone and my heart bereft

Wanting to hold on to her purrs and love

Her head pushing against my body

Her rough tongue licking my hand, as I'd pet her

Unable to purr and eat, the tumor grew fast blocking the way

Vets claimed 50 - 50 chance, said they could remove, after one already tried,

Not sure if they wanted to help save her or wanted the younger vets to learn

Sorry I listened, should have followed my instincts

And given her a few more peaceful days instead of trauma in surgery

Hours of anesthesia on an already wrecked soul starving and striving to survive

I regret not continuing my program of subcutaneous water

Combined with finger feeding baby food

Instead they installed a feeding tube which made her gag more than before

Doctors tried to convince me her tiny shrinking body would handle radiation fine

I'm glad I didn't listen and only wish I

Didn't commit her tiny shrinking body to surgical trauma

Can’t forgive myself for making her suffering worse

Letting them experiment,

Lessons learned too late

Can't hold back fate

Letting go of Cleo was the hardest thing I've ever done.

There will never be another Cleo

Knowing she's out of misery is no consolation

Miss her love, her energy, her beauty, her excitation

Flame point Siamese with deep blue eyes; recall her exotic look and personality.

Cat fanciers called her exotic

Would not classify her as Siamese although

She was pure through and through

Life cut short, 9 years of soul

Brushing her fur made her purr loudly

Helped reduce the amount of hair spread around

Lay awake missing her body pressed against mine

Miss staring into her eyes, her throwing herself on her back

Stretching her small slim body and limbs against mine

Urging and telling me how to stroke her

Purrs so loud made me wonder how she did it

Gone, forever lives in my heart, try to cope and remember

Visualize Cleo,

Lying here with her mother, Starr and bossy Davie

Starr screaming for her daughter

Inseparable in life

All of us bereft, confused

Missing her warmth

Cleo is gone.

Mercy, mercy, please...



I've written before about Cleo on my blog, specifically at the link below addressing her being a flame point Siamese and being called Exotic when she is pure Siamese:

http://joyleftowsblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/announcing-new-blog-give-away.html

Other poems that included mention of Cleo are here:

http://joyleftowsblog.blogspot.com/2013/08/daybreak.html

http://joyleftowsblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/im-sorry-so-sorry-its-taken-me-this.html

http://joyleftowsblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/where-did-day-go.html

http://joyleftowsblog.blogspot.com/2016/07/ranting-on-about-lifes-bitch-and-then.html 

Cleo would have been 9 years old December 27th. I was forced to put her down as the tumor pressed on the back of her throat and no food or water could pass. It was growing fast and had already grown into her ear and infected it. Then it spread behind her left eye. 

First The Humane Society had seen her and thought it was an ear infection. Then when I brought her back they thought it was a cold. When I reported that the back of her throat was completely closed, they sedated her and tried to reach the tumor thinking it was a polyp and they reported it was too deep and they could not reach it. 

I should have listened to my gut when my urge was to take her home and let her rest giving her fluids subcutaneously, and baby food and nutriment on my finger. Instead on the advice of doctors who suggested she see specialists at the Animal Medical Center, I took her there for a consult. They said they thought they could get the polyp and that there was a good chance it was not cancer and that they would insert a feeding tube. I thought the feeding tube would be in the stomach but it was placed in her throat which only aggravated her gagging reflex. After a couple of hours of anesthesia and experimental work, they saw they could do nothing and from only looking doctors were able to report it was a very fast growing cancer. When she came home she was much worse for all the trauma. I would have had to put down anyway but she would have had a few days in peace with her mother, pictured below next to her. 

The tumor grew very fast and was invading every organ in every part of her head. 

God Bless Cleo! May she rest in peace and may the next birth be blessed. 

Post Election Blues ~ Love and Election, Night & Day

My love for him lives in little unreachable spots

Along with reality

My son’s eyes shine like his

Too late forced to let go of a lifeline

Of yes and no

Black and white

Cause and effect

The flow goes where it will

Time spears existential

I only saw his eyes

Mesmerized me

His life authorized me

Couldn’t see the sky

Didn’t realize

Nor analyze

The color of my hair

Eyes constant

They see what they think they see

What they want to see

How they want time to proceed

It’s the whole package

Entire gestalt – height, weight, hairstyle - length

Eyes know eyes or we think when we stare in someone’s eyes

Swear we know what we see

We know what we sow

We almost know where it goes

We know or think we know

Boudreau to Bordeaux wine map

Sanctity - Humanity

Only way to understand

Move ahead – my own private heaven

Hard to feel good in our political world

Affects me whether I pretend to care or not

Unable to move ahead

Live in fear need to survive the

Stuck here for 4 more years

Did you hear about the Buddhist Monks who pretended to have a sanctuary for lions & instead bred them for parts to make medicines?

My own private hell ...

How can we live in peace?

How can we force those in charge to care for our planet

Humanity is scary when people in power don’t value Earth’s health

Though we require it for survival

Anxious terrified

I tell you

TESLA HAS THE ANSWER

This is a love poem turned political

Because I can’t shut it out of my mind

On the brink of disaster, predict war, famine

Flooding ~ Now understand why the end of days is coming

Man destroyed by greed

Wars provide great economic growth

Biggest trick in the book is to make war

Standing Rock Nation’s access to water threatened

God, please help us in our suffering

Until combined we are strong

Winter has been coming for a long time

Now you know it’s finally here

We must work survive together

Think love ~ breathe love ~

Somehow ~ we must survive

I'M A REALLY BAD GIRL

They ridicule my nails – they’re so unkempt, with lined skin and chapped. Make fun of my faded “pink” hair when I fail to recolor it quickly enough. My son tried to teach me some skills and went and bought me a Papyrus card with an enclosed gift certificate for a manicure to try and show me what others expect in the way of grooming. I used the gift card to get a manicure and massage, both of which I thoroughly enjoyed.

Examine and judge me like an object there only for their enjoyment and disdain while they gossip about my hair and my nails. Really is this what counts? How I make myself up nice and proper and meet the societal mores? My nails, my hair, shaving for the beach – I hate all three.

I’m too busy and too cheap to take the time to enjoy the little things. Time takes its toll, year after year, cleaning and cleaning, rarely using gloves I clean without gloves to feel what I’m cleaning, to feel smoothness or roughness, to feel dents and bruises.

I think I’m confused by it all – why it means so much. OK, I admit it’s true it’s not that much money, but for me – I, who more or less consistently refuse to shave my legs and rarely shave my underarms, and who uses scissors to trim my underarms, do you really suppose this is what will take importance on my growing to-do list? I use opaque tights and the hair doesn’t show. I rarely wear sleeveless so what difference does it make if I only trim the hair? It really does burn and hurt my skin for two days afterward. It’s like heels – I can barely walk without heels so how am I going to walk with them? 

Oh, I hear the arguments now, “Your self-esteem must be affected by not doing these things.” Or, “You have to be nice to yourself and treat yourself sometimes.” And incredibly sometimes, I do carry through and buy these treats for myself. Perhaps in my entire life, I’ve had less than a dozen manicures. Well for sure, I can guarantee you I’ve had less than two-dozen manicures. But I do - do occasionally I do - do for sure.

Making Changes

I want to be Alice in Wonderland

And own her possibilities

Wonder whether or not to take the pill

See if this will give me a drop

On a nicer line-

Something with a better design

The sound of rain beating down

Upon gray pavement

Thunder claps

People pull on caps and hoodies,

Tent papers and plastic bags over heads

Still can’t escape the explosion of

Wet splashing, sound clashing

Hazy curtain of rain

Soaks my clothes through to my skin

Lost my train of thought

To the winds, the chimes

Of time descend

A gathering vine to the vibe

I’m a “wanna be”

I’m a “wanna be”

I wanna be graffiti covering walls boldly like Shira and

some old time guy – Crash one –

who painted graffiti on trains

I wanna be classical art like Van-Gogh, Degas and Matisse

Modern like Roy Lichtenstein, Pollach

I wanna be art covered in dead mosquitos

Visions of what we can and should be

Envelop my dreams

I wanna be actress, singer, grand some sports enthusiast

I wanna be poet, writer, Indian girl

Damn 3 percent Indian girl

Don’t you think I know it’s hard to be so many things

All at once, we have to climb high

Be many things all at once

I wanna be means I try every day

To be another me

Media throws so many me’s in my face

Every day I’m like, “Who am I gonna be today

You wanna be me

Try to walk a mile in my shoes

Yes it’s cliché to say but so true

I wanna be Halle Berry, Jenifer Lopez, Marilyn Monroe,

Debbie Reynolds, Beyonce, and Jayne Mansfield

All rolled into one convenient slice of pie

I want to be a Royal Purple Audi 500, Special Pass Auto

I wanna be best of the best, is who I Want To Be

It’s hard to be anyone when mostly everyone

Barely knows who they are today, or tomorrow

Our hearts immune to roars of despair

Controlled by media, the score, blind deaf despair

Back in the day popularly called wanna be’s

Now everyone’s a “wanna be”

Hard to know true, everyone imagines we can be

Who we want to be – nurtured by American dreams,

A society amiss with misfits who all wanna be too

Some few have the means to be more than they are –

I don’t fit in with the Jones, try to fit in

Wherever I can, yeah it’s hard to be a loner

Barely fit in anywhere, if you please

Plus I don’t have the means to fit it in with the Jones

How free would we have to be

To be who we you wanna be today

The controllers say

Free your mind,

I ask can my mind decide my identity?

Try to be, can I be who I want to be today or any day

Happy New Year to you all and to all a good night

Ooooohhhh did ya hear we’re all free

So free that all we need do is free our minds

Be friends with crazy Bob Dylan,

Joni Mitchel and Natalie Merchant

Hobnob with high society

Just a wanna be

Wanna be someone different today?