Wednesday 7th September, 2005
Rod in Concert
Holland, December 2005!
San Sebastian Strings
albums now available on CD! Order
now!
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A Thought for Today
Cats have it all - admiration and an
endless sleep and company when they want it.
This
One Does It For Me!
Ken,
A Cat Named Sloopy
My all time favorite, could you post it?
Thanks,
Beverly Witt
I'm really glad your letter was brief, Beverly, because there isn't a
lot more I can say about this poem that hasn't been said here already -
a number of times.
Thanks for writing and
you'll find your request below.
TULIPS, ANYONE?
Hi Ken,
Concerts
in Holland
I was wondering as you have the database of all ASPTL readers if you
could extract all UK ones (especially those living in the south) and
mail them to see whether anyone would be interested in organising a trip
to see this concert ie. coach/air travel and accommodation.
It would be
so much better to go as a group especially as there may be a lot of
single people who would not want to travel alone.
Doris
Southampton
England
I won't bore you with the
reasons why, Doris, but it isn't possible to isolate UK e-mail addresses
with any degree of accuracy.
Your idea of group travel is a good one, though, and I know some
of our American
readers have already started making arrangements along similar lines. I'd suggest those from the UK who plan to attend the shows post a message
on the Rod McKuen Message Board (http://mckuenboard.com/)
and I'm pretty sure some like minded souls will soon respond.
Of course, this isn't limited to American and UK readers. I'd suggest
anyone looking for traveling companions do likewise and I'd
particularly like to see a South African group making the trip.
It promises to be a
memorable occasion.
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on the Stanyan House logo to buy Rod McKuen books, CD's and lots more
Click on the heart logo to
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Catch Rod McKuen live!
Click on the links below for details of
concerts and appearances.
ROD McKUEN
CONCERTS
ROD
McKUEN APPEARANCES
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Susan Blakely o
Corbin Bernsen o
Taylor Caldwell o
Charles Camilleri o
Michael De Bakey o
Brian Dennehy o
Elizabeth I, Queen of England o
Angie Everhardt o
Michael Feinstein o
Gloria Gaynor o
Buddy Holly o
Julie Kavner o
Elia Kazan o
Peter Lawford o
J. P. Morgan, Jr. o
Grandma Moses o
Ivy Baker Priest o
Anthony Quayle o
Sonny Rollins o
Richard Roundtree o
Devon Sawa o
Dame Edith Sitwell |
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I
never met a cat I didn’t like.
A cat too is an extension of God.
A cat is confidence with a tail.
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A CAT NAMED SLOOPY |
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1.
For a while
the only earth that Sloopy knew
was in her sandbox.
Two rooms on Fifty-fifth Street
were her domain.
Every night she’d sit in the window
among the avocado plants
waiting for me to come home
( my arms full of canned liver and love. )
We’d talk into the night then
contented
but missing something.
She the earth she never knew
me the hills I ran
while
growing bent.
Sloopy should have been a cowboy’s cat
with prairies to run
not linoleum
and real-live catnip mice
No one to depend on but herself.
I never told her
but in my mind
I was a midnight cowboy even then.
Riding my imaginary horse
down Forty-second Street,
going off with strangers
to live an hour-long cowboy’s life,
but always coming home to Sloopy,
who loved me best.
2.
A dozen summers
we lived against the world.
An island on an island.
She’d comfort me with purring
I’d fatten her with smiles.
We grew rich on trust
needing not the beach or butterflies.
I had a friend named Ben
who painted buildings like Roualt men.
He went away.
My laughter tired Lillian
after a time
she found a man who only smiled.
Only Sloopy stayed and stayed.
Winter.
Nineteen fifty-nine.
Old men walk their dogs.
Some are walked so often
that their feet leave
little pink tracks
in the soft gray snow.
Women fur on fur
elegant and easy
only slightly pure
hailing cabs to take them
round the block and back.
Who is not a love seeker
when December comes ?
Even children pray to Santa Claus.
I had my own love safe at home
and yet I stayed out all one night
the next day too.
3.
They must have thought me crazy
screaming
Sloopy
Sloopy
as the snow came falling
down around me.
I was a madman
to have stayed away
one minute more
than the appointed hour.
I’d like to think a golden cowboy
snatched her from the window sill,
and safely saddlebagged
she rode to Arizona.
She’s stalking lizards
in the cactus now perhaps
bitter but
free.
I’m bitter too
and not a free man anymore.
Once was a time,
in New York’s jungle in a tree,
before I went into the world
in search of other kinds of love
nobody owned me but a cat named Sloopy.
Looking back
perhaps she’s been
the only human thing
that ever gave back love to me.
- from " Listen to the Warm", 1967 |
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