Cameron
Social
Relationship Status
Single
Highschool
Siegel High
Favorite Music
Alter Bridge, Aqualung, Artic Monkeys, Audioslave, The Beatles, Boa [not BoA], Bottom of the Hudson, Broken Social Scene, Marc Broussard, Cool Hand Luke, Miles Davis, Days Away, Dead Heart Bloom, Eisley, Finding Steve Cunningham, Flaming Lips, The Fray, French Kicks, Frou Frou, Gorillaz, Imogen Heap, In Praise of Folly, Jack Johnson, Killswitch Engage, Chuck Leavell, Keb' Mo', Thelonious Monk, Mourning September, New Buffalo, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Porcupine Tree, Postal, The Postal Service, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Rise Against, The Roosevelts, Rubyhorse, Adam Searan, The Seatbelts, Sherwood, Shinedown, Sigur Ros, Slipknot, Submersed, Sufjan Stevens, Art Tatum, Thrice, Matt Wertz, Young Blood Brass Band, Zero 7
Favorite Movies
28 Days, Arsenic and Old Lace, As Good as it Gets, A Beautiful Mind, Big Fish, The Breakfast Club, Butterfly Effect, City Slickers, Coffee and Cigarettes, Count of Monte Cristo, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Fight Club, Hard Day's Night, The Legend of 1900, Lord of the Rings, Lost in Translation, Memento, Million Dollar Baby, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Office Space, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, The Pianist, Pirates Of The Caribbean, Popeye, Pulp Fiction, Rope, Spiderman, The Thin Man, This is Spinal Tap, The Truman Show, What About Bob, When Harry Met Sally
Curiosity
February 15 2006
may have killed the cat; more likely
the cat was just unlucky, or else curious
to see what death was like, having no cause
to go on licking paws, or fathering
litter on litter of kittens, predictably.
Nevertheless, to be curious
is dangerous enough. To distrust
what is always said, what seems,
to ask odd questions, interfere in dreams,
leave home, smell rats, have hunches
do not endear cats to those doggy circles
where well-smelt baskets, suitable wives, good lunches
are the order of things, and where prevails
much wagging of incurious heads and tails.
Face it. Curiosity
will not cause us to die -
only lack of it will.
Never to want to see
the other side of the hill
or that improbable country
where living is an idyll
(although a probable hell)
would kill us all.
Only the curious
have, if they live, a tale
worth telling at all.
Dogs say cats love too much, are irresponsible,
are changeable, marry too many wives,
desert their children, chill all dinner tables
with tales of their nine lives.
Well, they are lucky. Let them be
nine-lived and contradictory,
curious enough to change, prepared to pay
the cat price, which is to die
and die again and again,
each time with no less pain.
A cat minority of one
is all that can be counted on
to tell the truth. And what cats have to tell
on each return from hell
is this: that dying is what the living do,
that dying is what the loving do,
and that dead dogs are those who do not know
that dying is what, to live, each has to do.
the cat was just unlucky, or else curious
to see what death was like, having no cause
to go on licking paws, or fathering
litter on litter of kittens, predictably.
Nevertheless, to be curious
is dangerous enough. To distrust
what is always said, what seems,
to ask odd questions, interfere in dreams,
leave home, smell rats, have hunches
do not endear cats to those doggy circles
where well-smelt baskets, suitable wives, good lunches
are the order of things, and where prevails
much wagging of incurious heads and tails.
Face it. Curiosity
will not cause us to die -
only lack of it will.
Never to want to see
the other side of the hill
or that improbable country
where living is an idyll
(although a probable hell)
would kill us all.
Only the curious
have, if they live, a tale
worth telling at all.
Dogs say cats love too much, are irresponsible,
are changeable, marry too many wives,
desert their children, chill all dinner tables
with tales of their nine lives.
Well, they are lucky. Let them be
nine-lived and contradictory,
curious enough to change, prepared to pay
the cat price, which is to die
and die again and again,
each time with no less pain.
A cat minority of one
is all that can be counted on
to tell the truth. And what cats have to tell
on each return from hell
is this: that dying is what the living do,
that dying is what the loving do,
and that dead dogs are those who do not know
that dying is what, to live, each has to do.
the brian king kenobi
February 15 2006
I LOVE THIS POEM!!!!!!!!!!! it's my favorite EVER. or at least close. i wanna be a cat when i grow up . . .
Michael Border-Line Pronounceable
February 16 2006
That poem is so cool. I liked it when I first read it a while back. I don't much care for cats, though...I'm deathly allergic-not to ruin the mood or anything!