It’s been a mentally draining week so here’s a cyberpunk poem about cats.
The Cat Army
1
In alleys where cat eyes gleam chrome-bright,
She prowls beneath fractured city lights.
A ghost with fur, a shadow on the run;
Trailing whispers of code and data spun,
Born from static and digital night.
2
The skyline bleeds with synthetic sighs,
Billboards blink with a trillion lies.
AI prayers hum from vending machines,
Selling love and memory scenes,
While angels glitch through hacked blue skies.
3
A cyborg limps through the flickering haze,
Rusted joints, lost in data malaise.
Yet still he dreams in ones and zeros,
Of cats as rebels, post-human heroes,
Leading the fight in neon-bathed days.
4
White roses grow in concrete decay,
Blooming in places where hearts stray.
Spliced with code, they shimmer and glow,
Whispering truths only street rats know;
A symbol of hope in disarray.
5
The river runs with electric regret,
Tangled in wires the past won’t forget.
It hums beneath the sleepless city,
Carrying secrets, dark and gritty;
Washing sins without getting wet.
6
The Cat Army climbs through firewall flame,
Each with a chip and no given name.
They leap through towers, soft and sly,
Claws unsheathed beneath steel sky,
Waging war with no need for fame.
7
Beneath the moon, sleek paws align,
On rooftops sharp as a power line.
They gather, watchers in silver bloom,
Each pair of eyes a silent boom;
A revolution in purr and design.
8
Cyborgs kneel when they pass near,
Haunted by instincts lost to fear.
But the cats remember every face,
Every lover, every place;
Fur-coded memories perfectly clear.
9
AI prophets warn of a feline dawn,
Where mechs and men will both be gone.
In their place: creatures swift and free,
Writing futures humans can’t foresee,
With claws dipped in soft anarchy.
10
Yet still they move through city light,
Guardians of dreams, born for the night.
In every corner, on every screen,
A whisper: They came, unseen,
The Cat Army purring toward what’s right.
Mystic Anomanly 