I awake to the prickle of whiskers on my cheek,
and a subtle lick of sandpaper, oh so meek.
A moist, stuffy breath takes over my ear,
the purrs of sweet nothings sounding near.
I smile after hearing a drawn out hiss,
followed by an affection kiss.
A velvety coat rubs on my bare skin like silk,
yet matted down with relics of yesterday’s milk.
A stifled meow resonates above,
no more than my cat, showing some love.
I tackled this poem with the understanding that I would attract two types of readers. Those who sneer at the mere sight of felines, and those who find nothing abnormal with my morning ritual. I decided that, no matter my audience, I could still find a way to evoke the "heebie jeebies" from my peers. My decision to conceal the mystery source of "whiskers on my cheek" (1) until the poem's end undoubtedly prolonged the feeling of discomfort from my readers. Still, with eight more lines to fill before I disclosed the unknown lover, I decided to use diction to arouse feelings of awkwardness. First, the gentle and mild diction of "meek" must have evoked a morsel of unease from my peers. I do not know what makes this word uncomfortable, but something about it demands the reader to cringe. In the next line, I included the word "moist" (3). The most cliché source of discomfort in the dictionary? Yes. Affective? Yes. Next, I allude to "sweet nothings," (4) then proceed to rhyme "hiss" (5) with "kiss" (6). I believe that these references combine to suggest intimacy between myself and the secret admirer, which surely evoked a moment of anxiety. Although most of us can call ourselves adults, I have not forgotten that few of us can completely keep our composure in the presence of slightly sexual references. Lastly, I refer to a silky coat that grazes my "bare" skin (7). I also mentioned that this coat appears knotted with leftover 2% milk. I do not know if this mental image created as much discomfort as it did confusion. Either way, I guarantee it helped me conclude the poem's 30 seconds of pain.
Much to my dismay, my cat also spends her nights beside my head. In addition to her loud droning and constant movement, she also sometimes tries to dig her way out of my room if I close the door. So, thinking about my daily experiences with her does bring a sense of discomfort. However, I can relate to the somewhat intimate relationship between you and your cat, as I go through a similar "morning ritual" as you.
ReplyDeleteMairin, I actually felt no discomfort while reading your poem, as I consider myself an avid cat lover. Since cats show affection to only their favorite people, while dogs slobber over anything that moves, I believe that kitty love holds more value than canine kisses. In fact, your poem made me want to cuddle with my two beloved felines right away. However, your obnoxiously spelled title did cause me to feel a bit uncomfortable.
ReplyDeleteMairin--I felt particularly uncomfortable while reading your poem, particularly because of my severe cat allergy. If I merely graze a cat with my hand and accidentally touch that hand to anywhere near my face, my eyes immediately swell shut and become red, inflamed, and itchy. Additionally, my throat will begin to close and my sinuses become clogged to the point of labored respiration. Because all of this happens with a simple brush, I could not imagine what would happen to me if I awoke with a cat on my face. The horrors of swelling body parts and vast amounts of snot and tears that it would create flashed through my mind as I read your poem. You absolutely succeeded in making me feel uncomfortable, and I hope my description of my allergic reaction returns the favor!
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