Wednesday Magpie. #40

She had asked for pearls,
so when the blue velvet lined box came out,
her breath hitched in excitement.
Had he really remembered?

"You said jewelry, and you're always hinting for a life more exotic."
She stares at the pendant,
exotic indeed.

Ah well. Such is life.
And she can always restring the pearls.

-Kelly Richardson

Almost forgot my magpie!

Heads thrown back and crowing,

the lovers in the back room tremble,
almost before they knew it.
Nothing quite harmonious, just
eight limbed and awkward at first.

-Kelly Richardson

(Almost all my poetry is a work in progress. I'll work on things that I 'completed' years ago. This has only been up a few minutes, and I've changed it 3 times. Don't be surprised by this: for me, the only thing constant about writing is changing my mind.)

Magpie Wednesday.

No earthquakes,

no fires,

no monstrous winds or rampant virus.

What never could happen

became what did-

without a single headline.

Who needs superpowers,

when paper and ink can break stone tablets?

-Kelly Richardson

It occured to me,

that you were something worth turning around for.

But now I see

that I, like she,

jumped blind.

A pretty face and a name written on a boat?

I had hoped to amount to more.

-Kelly Richardson

How was this inspired by a mirror? Well, whenever I see mirrors used in photography, I think of one thing: the ballad that jump started my own poetry when I first heard it quoted in Anne of Green Gables.

In the stormy east-wind straining,

The pale-yellow woods were waning,

The broad stream in his banks complaining,

Heavily the low sky raining

Over tower'd Camelot;

Down she came and found a boat

Beneath a willow left afloat,

And round about the prow she wrote

The Lady of Shalott.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

On a more personal note....

I'm not sure why I'm feeling so down when I had a fun night. I went to Halloween Horror Nights (again!) with my good friend Amelia... things didn't go quite as expected, but she and I always end up having ourselves a blast.

I think it was the music.

One of the HHN houses is paranormal activity themed... you walk through this old family home and creepy ghosties pop up all around you, statues twist and scream while you walk through the story of the haunted family. It wasn't as obviously scary as some of the stuff they have there (no killer clowns) but they play this really slow, heartbreaking cello music that made me want to cry and left me with a knot in my stomach.

So when I was walking out and I got some news I would have rather remained blissfully unaware of, the two kind of merged together and now I'm in a funk. =/

Magpie Thurs...wait. No, today is Wednesday. :/

I went all day thinking it was Thursday. I tried to send my class to Phys Ed. and library instead of choir. If I don't start to be a little more careful, I'm going to get a reputation as that space case teacher who is always covered in cat hair.

Either way, Magpie Tales has the new prompt up today, so I tried out a timed verse. 2 minutes, and this is what I came up with with only seconds to spare:

It was a door better left open,

and you got the sunnier side of things.

I'm still glancing from shaded eyes;

watching you as you're looking forward.

Too late now, but at least I learned to open the windows.

-Kelly Richardson

This reminded me of another verse I had done awhile ago, with the same regretful theme, but I took it down because I wasn't sure if it was worth the space. But I'll put it up here with this one because I think they rather go together.

Take comfort in the idea

that you'll have forgotten

four three minute songs

and a good night's sleep later...

while I still shudder at the thought.

(Regret's the crueler bitch in the long run.)

-Kelly Richardson

Birth.

You begin as a thought-

a look, between two,

but you'd rather not consider that.

You entered the world

innocent, they say,

but your first taste was blood.

From christening to wedding bells,

you grew up thinking time's too slow,

but learned that it speeds up when falling.

Momentum slows.

End of show.

You go out the way you came in.

-Kelly Richardson

(prompt from http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/)

Silent Like a Bride

(photo prompt from http://magpietales.blogspot.com/2010/06/mag18.html)


"I'm fine" She says
With a cracking careless grin,
"We all make mistakes sometime."
And on tiptoes she kisses his cheek-
(While behind his back,
Her honest hands build a tower to his betrayal.)
-Kelly Richardson

Ode to Kilgore Trout and the Creator of his Universe.

He's realistic in his thinking,
reviewing his life and knowing
that today has come,
and when he's done,
tomorrow looks the same.

He declares!
"So it goes."
The man knows his fate.

(A diety?
Perhaps not.
But certainly a king, at least.)

-Kelly Richardson

After a certain scene in Susan Kay's "Phantom".

"Why?" you asked,
as your fingers paused in their brave quest for mine
and I could do nothing but mutter:
I was as unsure as I had ever been.
Still,
My meaning and my resolve became clear
as the years widened the space between our hands.

-Kelly Richardson

Older Poetry

1.)

"What are those supposed to be?"

Asks a laugh-

Pointing a criticle chortle

At the smudged drawings

That peek from beneath embarassed hands.

"They're only scribbles... "

Replies a blush-

(But really he had done his best.)

2.)

Said the eagle to the fish

As he sped to splatter on a dinner-plate rock:

"Close your mouth, skydiver-

if you swallow a cloud, you'll never come down."

"Rituals, smituals!" Rejoined the fish,

"I am hooked on hope like you will never believe;

even a fish can learn to soar."

(The above are the personal works of Kelly Richardson)