JOHN BARLOW ON THE FERAL CATS OF DOWNSVIEW

the 'star' is the bird in gem's eye

called them gem because of the eyes

small inside the head eyed cats

rackurrrrrsss~ gem

3/5ths smaller cats than usual, except Gem

like a sleek special Panther

it's like a holy night in Guatemala

when the gemcat is there

like a storm stewer that goes in reverse

like a dream of a religion

a strange catlike idea

http://barlowhockey.wordpress.com/marlies-join-leafs-in-shootout-success/ 

With the cat tail of a hurricane saturating the 401 (and my chief context being awaiting arrival of a wonderful friend via that highway, I find myself with the time to wonder about my friendship with these fine feral cats of Downsview once again, as I am entirely entirely in a mode of waiting, gliding, and focusing all luck, intuitive and teleginetic, focus, I think of the brilliance of the cat colonies, the commitment to coming through in all moments is complete, always in beam, always exemplar. Others may, I never tire of seeing their prints in winter, days after storms, watching their relationships with each other, contemplating their territories and their histories, and trying to explain it to my mother, how instead of travel and theatre, museums and galleries, concerts, trips to Europe, or even more practical quests, if I have the time, I like to visit feral cats in the light industrial wasteland, and try to befriend them with gifts and all the sorts of friendly utterances that downtown most cats will recognize as cat conscious voice, and to this day, never, not one feral has cared back. Not even gem.

So it is still largely humans I look to for consciousness and meaning.

But think of it: the World Symphony Orchestra playing Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony magically entering into a finish! Joy, amazement and at intermission, in the lobby with our kale curry salmon wraps, sun dried tangerines, and gin & tonics, I’d be explaining again about not so much how the feral cats are fascinating in their greater totality and meaning, but are fascinating in the absolute immediate of daily life!

Ordinariness is one of the hidden wonders of existence. Every few days or week and a half, I’ll be walking along and computing away and realize, yes, it is a completely ordinary day, there really is nothing about this set of hours, there isn’t preoccupation, this is what my life was/is like presently, “shipping yards” and “truck docks” and “hopping fences” rare and blessed moments unspoken for in time. I feel like these moments of ordinariness are my greatest accomplishments. And even though it stresses the always en garde alert ferals, they somehow  give lessons to it, hyperexpressive eyes blazing away, unremittantly present to the real day. And suddenly they begin to sing, welcome welcome, happy birthday, happy birthday, welcome welcome, happy birthday, welcome welcome, happy birthday, in their never before heard voices, the epileggo to Schubert’s long broaching immanence.

http://oversion.wordpress.com/2009/08/