Yesterday, January 30th, after several months of living nobly and dignifiedly with a cancerous, inoperable tumor in her jaw, my beloved cat, Smudge, died peacefully at the veterinary hospital. She was nearly 16. She was my darling and my sweetheart. She loved me for 10 years, unconditionally and without reserve.
Smudge, I will never, ever forget the love you gave to me. All the little nose kisses, the nights you sat on my lap while I read, and petted you. The nights while I slept and you cuddled in the crook of my arm and napped a little with me. The days that we played and you chased the little toys that I made. Both the admiration and adoration my friends all had for you. I will never forget your greeting me in the morning with cheerful meows when you herded me towards your food dish to get you breakfast. The happy, loud sound of your purr. And you coming to get morning pets in bed from your mama and Daddy. You were such a good girl, Smudge. My heart is broken that you’re gone. A part of me knows that yesterday was the end of your suffering and that you are much happier where you are now, but I just need you to know that your daddy will always have a room in his heart full of love for you and the memories that he has of you. I cry because I love you so much and miss you.
I know that the love that a pet can give is a privilege, and not a right any human can claim. I know how very fortunate I am to have given the chance to know, care for and so deeply love you all these years. But it still doesn’t take away this awful hurt in my heart that I feel. I miss you so much. And if one day after this life, I am somehow blesed to see your face again, my heart will be full.
Daddy loves you, Smudge, and he always will.
Good evening, World. My name is Richard, and I am an Apocalyptic Rabbit. A hypocrite Rabbi. A hypochondriac full of blather. I don’t know what I am. I once was a child, then I was a man. I’m neither now. I’m something else. Put here to — what? Observe. Put here to observe a thing and to say. Put here to witness and to translate. I looked around at all the other blog suppliers (websites? servers? what do you call these online things|places that give you blogs?) and I believe that I have found one that will finally work for me, with regard to aesthetics.
I write poetry and I used to be what’s called a “slam poet”. I still occasionally slam at open slams in the state of Delaware and around thereabouts. I read my poetry aloud more often in an “open mic” environment than in a “slam”. Sometimes I’ll talk here about poetry, and perhaps even put up a poem on here (disclaimer/advisory: unless I am quoting from another person’s poem on here — and I’ll tell you if I do that — any poetry on here will be mine and authored by me, Richard Boucher, just so you know).
Although I’m probably a mite old for this, I play video games for off-hours enjoyment. I’m not obsessed with video games, but, just so you know, as I’ll sometimes talk about this, too; I like to get my Nintendo on from time to time. It’s an escape; it’s a relaxer; it’s a time-waster — call it what you want to call it but please don’t try to take my Nintendo DS from me!
Relationship? Or ships? I might maybe talk about those on here. Depends on how “close to the vest” I’ll want to be. A friend of mine described me as a private person and I’ll just say that with some parts of me that’s true. You caught me in a state of flux, world. I’m trying, though, to somehow make myself an improvement on what I have been so far — which isn’t so much to brag about.
It seems to me that as an apocalyptic rabbit, and as a poet, it’s appropriate to talk tonight (it being my first night on wordpress and all) to talk about the end of the world and how it’s on its way. Or maybe I don’t want to talk about it yet. Is there a word for it when you hear about children holding up adults at gunpoint and you’re so freaked out by the news of this that you are at a loss for words other than to say, here, look? Children today are holding adults up at gunpoint, and they’re also filming themselves on cameraphones beating up other schoolchildren.
I think my point here might be that children are dangerous. Or that only I should have all the video games. Maybe my point is it’s time to stop not charging children who commit adult crimes as adults. Since a school suspension doesn’t seem to be doing the trick. Or perhaps my point is, with this horrid war going on with no end in sight, and with the bases of the icecaps cracking and a global cataclysm on its surefire way, why am I worried about parking tickets? Why should any of us even listen when our subhuman supervisor at work decides to use her power for unwarranted abuse? I’ll continue to write my ridiculous poetry meanwhile, it’s all I know how to do well. I do know that James Tate is one fantastic poet; he is one of my greatest inspirations.
I’m somewhat “new again” to this blogging thing, and I want to do it right. So I’ll understand if you consider this a very “rambling” start to it all. I’ll deserve that. This will improve, also.
Here is a “shoutoutixxorz” in the “vernac” of the hip, young, intarwebs people: if you’re jonesin’ for some insightful verbage on Delaware (and world) politics, stop by the illustrious Dana Garrett’s DelawareWatch blog. He’s very good at what he does, and is a poetry, blogger, and human inspiration.
I just saw a wild movie at a friend’s house the other night. It’s called Aaron Russo’s America: Freedom to Fascism. That’s what the movie was called, not the friend’s house. Did you know there is no federal law requiring you to pay a personal income tax? Before I saw this movie, I, too, thought there was a sort of freakishness to those who talked about these issues, but not anymore. Please see this movie. Before the federal government (or your local government, in an act of cowardice) decides for you that you may no longer have the option of watching it.
I’m out for now. I’ll be back tomorrow. Hope you all have a good night.