Ode to Our Beloved Pets
Issue 7
Ode to My Kitten, Blackberry
by Roméo Desmarais III
Named by my nephew
(cute little Sol), you
boldly bounce around my
bachelor flat, and
poke your pink nose into
everything!
I grab you by the scruff,
bellow your "badness" in
baritone bass, and wonder how
I ever became a parent!
Black as a berry,
shiny as the night sky, you
wear your white, diamond patch on
your chest, purring
proudly...
Curled into my lap, I
pet your ears,
turn your tail, and
wish I could
freeze you like this
forever!
And though your friskiness
often steals my sleep,
and though your curiosity has
killed things worth more than your
orphaned and strayed little self,
I shall love you always!
Toronto; November, 2001
Roméo Desmarais III (he/him) is a poet, songwriter, musician and visual artist living in London Ontario, Canada. His publication history includes a response piece to the U.S. Supreme Court overturning of Roe v Wade in July 18, 2022's oddball magazine. Roméo is Queer/2Spirit, Francophone, and Métis/Indigenous. When performing spoken word, he introduces himself by bellowing: I… AM… RoMeO-HoMeO ô£ tHę MåRtïÃñS >{:) –his pseudonym since 1991.
She Beholds Me
– jet Black Lab bearing forehead wrinkles in time. Bewildered am I?
by Melissa Ann Reed
I lift one eyelid to sit for my portrait,
then rest my head on my blind Love’s knee – feel
Love’s reading hands assure me all is well.
Bus rides can be tough. We sit up front across
from her – "Have you read William Stafford’s poems?”
My Love acknowledges, "Yes, I’ve read some.”
"Have you read waking up to a new world brushed
by a dog’s deep love?” "No.” "Would you like to hear it?”
We accept. Near your face a breath, your dog:
It’s day. . . those dark eyes, receiver wells * remind
us to listen – we are responsible for Love’s life.
The poem doesn’t end It’s day. Only the bus stops.
The world, love-brushed, returns whole and new.
I guide my Love through our familiar-made-strange
neighborhood – sense the keen reading hand on
my harness while we wonder why – how could we be
so blessed – so bewitched – so bewildered?
*William Stafford, "Coming Back", in A Scripture of Leaves
Fire’s Crackling Words
sputter into burned-out
wood embers.
Reverie’s juxtapositions speak.
For instance, while the Chambered
Nautilus Madonna holds a candle
simmering the whole
Whirlpool Galaxy,
Tennessee Williams' Tom chortles,
Blow out your candles, Laura,
The world is lit by fire!
Tao Cat upstages:
i do not know
what it is
about you –
you curl up
in the red wool scarf
by dying fire, bury
your nose
in your chest’s
black and white fur.
Ashes glow,
wind stirs,
your purr begins.
You stretch
lengthwise
on the Turkish rug,
your paws kneed
intricate patterns,
opening,
opening
all your chakras,
each infused
with love’s fire
that births
galaxies.
Rumi's voice emerges:
What hurts you blesses you.
The darkness within another,
unable to see the light, becomes
another guiding
candle.
by Melissa Ann Reed
M. Ann Reed offers the Bio-Poetic Study of Literature supporting the Deep Ecology Movement for global and local academic students, some of whom publish. Awarded a doctorate in Theater Arts/Performance Studies, she continues Jungian Psychology studies. Medical, literary, and psychology journals cite her essays. Various literary arts journals are home to her poems: Antithesis, Azure, Burningword, Eastern Iowa Review, Parabola, Poeming Pigeon, Proverse, Psychological Perspectives. FLP published her chapbook, making oxygen. UPA initially published her co-authored non-fiction book, Strange Kindness.