Why must I be your prisoner,
locked in the pistachio green room all day?
I have given you perfect love
and constant, faithful loyalty
I speak your name every day,
loud enough for the neighbors to hear,
but you order me to shut up.
I devour your daily tuna fare
and brazenly beg for more.
You are held in motherly high esteem,
yet, here I am, locked in the square green room.
The days can be hollow and lonely.
If only the birds could hear my chatter,
we would be close friends.
I am hungry, ravenous, close to starvation.
I don’t understand why you are not here.
The other prisoner gives no comfort.
She would rather snore away the pain of captivity.
I don’t blame that loud one, really.
She’s also locked in the cloudless green room.
Every day, the two of us wonder
when we will hear the familiar sound
of your noisy, blue machine
and soft-fallen footsteps.
We hear the bird clock every hour.
Nine chirps, eleven tweets, two cackles.
What time is it now?
Time passes slowlyβ¦
watching the door…
that frees us from the toy-filled green room
This prisoner needs your attention.
Incessant, unashamed, head-butting attention
that cannot be given at your hand,
when your hand is not present.
I do not comprehend.
What have I done to deserve this torture?
Why are you not here?
So this is it, I’m left to die
of starvation and a broken feline heart,
locked forever in the shelter of the vacuous green room.
It’s a good thing that cats cannot speak. A great story and catty observations.
Ξ©
My prisoner LOVES to talk. Loudly. It’s too bad I don’t understand a word he’s saying.
We have a little Russian Blue and she is quite vocal. Our Calico lets her do the talking for both of them.
Ξ©
Interesting, too: they can’t see color. At least that’s what I heard.
Ssshhhhh…John…he doesn’t know any better. Lucky guess, I suppose. π
So this is it, Iβm left to die
of starvation and a broken feline heart,
locked forever in the shelter of the vacuous green room.
—————————————————–
Oh my – that must be exactly how they feel
Please feed them, scratch them, cuddle them – STAT!
OMG, Dan, Mr. Gibbs has been crying all day. “Feed me, scratch me, love me, pay attention to me, feed me.” I did, I have, and I will. I have not had a cat before that has wanted for so much attention. He’s my second job. π
Maybe book him a week in the Hotel Gibbs
Good idea! The hotel staff can wait on him!
Yo might want to set aside a little savings for his room service bill π
Yeah, especially if room service has salmon on the menu…
Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur…..
Happy kitty, sleepy kitty
Purr, purr, purr
π
Poor Gibbs. I feel his pain.
I know…his life is so hard. π
Like all cats – they suffer, and suffer π
The sadness of your kitties is clear. I especially like the part about your noisy blue machine and soft footsteps. Cletus comes to greet us at the door like the dog, but I don’t think any of our cats care about our absence until we go away overnight. I guess they’re lucky cats or we’re lucky people.
In the summer, when the windows are open and I get home from work, I can hear Gibbs meowing as soon as I step out of the car. It’s the cry of the forsaken! I often wonder if he truly misses me or just misses the hand that feeds him! :-p
I would guess that both the cats and the people in your house are very lucky! π
Bless his (maybe hungry) heart! I agree, you’re missed!
We feed our cats upon waking, at 6:30pm, and at bedtime. Catticus cries for more half the night, but he doesn’t get bikkies in the bowl until we go to bed. He’s starving, just ask all 13 lbs of him. lol
Oh boy, we both have food junkies! But I suppose it’s no different than us being cooped up all winter and wanting to eat lots of comfort food any time we want. We’re lucky to have hands and opposable thumbs.
Haha! Yes! π
I hear violins….. Poor Gibbs.
You are hearing the world’s smallest violin playing how my heart cries for you.
I love this clever and observant interpretation of Gibbs and his fellow prisoner. Poor kitties! What kind of a mother are you??!! πΌπΉ
Evidently, I’m a very bad mom! Shame on me! :-p