Oscar and the French Photo

OSCAR AND THE FRENCH PHOTO

In the gloom of early morning, the light just
illuminates the striped tiger cat who yowls
at the window at practically nothing, for
nothing moves in the yard or beyond,
but who wants me to know it’s time
to awake and meet the coming day.

Annoyed with my unresponsiveness,
Oscar moves to the framed photograph
above my bed, paws at its base, and pulls it
nearly forty-five degrees toward vertical,
letting it fall back to the wall with a clatter---
all to rouse me from my lazy slumber---not
just once, but repeatedly he tries this ploy.
Without forethought I yell, “knock it off”--- 
right away realizing he cannot decipher
this from the Gettysburg Address; yet,
I feel foolish. Then . . .

with an absorbed and determined look,
Oscar stares into the nighttime picture of
a lit-up Restaurant La Mere Catherine on
the Place du Tertre in Paris, France.
The eaterie’s red anterior casts a shallow
ruby glow into the darkness like a beacon.
Thus I construe  that by this crimson allure,
my feline friend’s attention is pulled into this
mid-1970's Debra Berger photo, and Oscar,
being a cat---I must speculate on this  scene
                for Oscar’s sake.
✤
Oscar sits across the bricked Montmartre rue,
drawn by the smells of food and the chatter of
red-hued patrons who relax at cloth covered
sidewalk tables while sipping glasses of wine;
a middle-aged couple at the far right share a
bottle of champagne chilling in a silver bucket---
he in t-shirt, she staring into the watching eyes
of Oscar over a motorcycle parked at the curb.
So too a man who sits---legs crossed---near the
entrance; he's with a blond woman who smokes
a cigarette below the gold Jardin et Bosquet
            lettering on the facade wall.
His eyes meet the stray cat’s with an endless gaze---
who observes his heedless inattention toward his
        chosen mademoiselle for the night.

Oscar might muse: this scene is different from his
view through the bedroom window; yet he still
                wants to yowl out . . .
“Who is the callow fellow in 70's style flared pants
and tight fitting shirt ala Saturday Night Fever?”
He stands on the far curb holding his bushy head
in his hand as if unsure of why and where he is.
Perhaps his female companion left in a huff over
politics or a disagreement over postmodern poetry?
Oscar yawns at the idea of such human foibles, and
                licks his paws clean.

Two young men and a woman sit just beyond and
to the left of our lost-looking soul---she, talking to
one while the other stares off down the street, arms
            folded indignantly on the table.
If Oscar could think, he might think him a picture
of dejection, that “three’s a crowd” look  he’s seen
among humans---possibly while pretending not to
                watch the television.

My tiger cat must watch all this through the blurry
and transparent images of passing flaneurs, clunky
Citrons and rusty Renaults; for Oscar looks upon
this strange world as a long exposure of trapped time
and place. Perhaps he rattles the photo’s frame
against the wall---to get these forever stilled people
                        going again?

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Drawn to this write Tom because we had a cat called Oscar. Sadly no longer with us, but such a great cat. As I progressed through your lines following your own Oscar, I saw mine. So happy I was to see him again too. You brought him back to life, just as your own Oscar managed to get some life into the people stilled in the photo frame. This is imaginative writing, so creative. I thoroughly enjoyed the read and where you took me. Thank you for that.

Chris

[kentuck14]

Chris,
Oscar was originally my father's cat . . . we inherited him when dad died (at 96). He would knock my dad's phone off the hook, and it took days before he noticed!

Glad you enjoyed the write as it reminded you fondly of your own Oscar.
T

[Eilis]

I’ve tried to write poetry through the eyes of animals before. I think I’ve tried cat, dog, deer and birds. None have been very successful.

What I like about this is that you’re telling the story as though the cat is watching the scene but there’s no illusion of it being through his eyes, only yours. Or rather through imagination which is such a powerful vehicle. But even that has its limits and so much of that ‘experience’ has to be created through previous lived experience.

That’s what I see here, and I like the way the details are those that would be relevant to the cat, but also ones that keep a reader’s interest. The human action. If I make the theme of the poem that a cat can’t relate to knock it off anymore than the Gettysburg Address then there’s an interesting perspective.

I’m putting on my literary theorists hat, so I’ll wind down before I get too deep. I just like this. The idea that everything is filtered through our own experience and we can only attribute so much to other people or beings with any degree of accuracy. I do like your ending. The cat wishing to get everything moving again. Feels like the human heart calling out. Nice poem, Tom.

[kentuck14]

In the early days of our dating, my wife and I would love to sit and watch people and make up stories about their lives. Great fun.

I would agree it is difficult to put ourselves in the place of an animal and think(?) like an animal. So, yes, we must transpose our experiences and imagination upon the animal . . . while remembering the animal remains an animal.
E, thanks for your interesting comments . . . much appreciated.
T

[Eilis]

You’re welcome, Tom. I enjoy the subjects you explore with your writing.

[Cherrie Palmer]

I love the layers, all the action and interaction. How you keep Oscar's view in focus. Then jiggle the image for a small hope of life.
I loved it.

[kentuck14]

Cherrie,
Thanks much for the kind review. Oscar made a great avatar!
Tom

[alanwgraham]

Very subtle writing and a classy description of this snapshot of Parisian life. I suspect that we're not far behind the cat in our understanding of reality. Also we often just catch a snapshot of life and can draw the wrong conclusions. By the way that's a great ending!
All the best.
Alan

[kentuck14]

Alan,
Thanks for the kind words, and yes you could be right!
Tom

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Such a creative way to bring this street scene to life for the reader in a wonderful well observed description of the patrons of this restaurant through cat's eyes. Very colourful, witty and enjoyable.

[kentuck14]

Thanks John . . . most appreciated