the rapscallion's lair

a.k.a. rabbit hole

1 note

false idols (sanctuary)
beliefs and baubles rain down from a sky filled with numbers
and i have no cloak to offer
the skin i wear is my reality broken hands and banged up knees
my gift is the soil scraped from nails
rich with worm and cross-hatched root held down by your wing driven sky
nothing is wrong in the forest of calm
and i climb into the cave of bear embrace the bones you’ve buried there
each icon wrapped in fields of feather
loose layers of tender revealed by touch reflect the season of my eyes
as spring awaits the hunger of your cry
.
~Kelly Letky
.
(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

false idols (sanctuary)

beliefs and baubles rain down
from a sky filled with numbers

and i have no cloak to offer

the skin i wear is my reality
broken hands and banged up knees

my gift is the soil scraped from nails

rich with worm and cross-hatched root
held down by your wing driven sky

nothing is wrong in the forest of calm

and i climb into the cave of bear
embrace the bones you’ve buried there

each icon wrapped in fields of feather

loose layers of tender revealed by touch
reflect the season of my eyes

as spring awaits the hunger of your cry

.

~Kelly Letky

.

(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

Filed under PAD napowrimo14 poetry nationalpoetrymonth

1 note

unequal bittersweet (outside the lines)
you told me once that green was the color of life and then you left my heart floating in its own red tide
i asked for help and you laughed in ripples of reduction neon notes of avarice slipping through your yellowed teeth
but you held my hand the day the world turned violet and didn’t let go until my moss-eyed stare rose to hold your reflection
i knew right then there was no getting free of the boundaries we’d blurred between us
you were my cornflower and i was your olive and everything else was left in the box
two empty spaces perpetually waiting for someone to turn the lost page
.
~Kelly Letky
.
(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

unequal bittersweet
(outside the lines)

you told me once that green was the color of life
and then you left my heart floating in its own red tide

i asked for help and you laughed in ripples of reduction
neon notes of avarice slipping through your yellowed teeth

but you held my hand the day the world turned violet
and didn’t let go until my moss-eyed stare
rose to hold your reflection

i knew right then there was no getting free
of the boundaries we’d blurred between us

you were my cornflower and i was your olive
and everything else was left in the box

two empty spaces perpetually waiting
for someone to turn the lost page

.

~Kelly Letky

.

(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

Filed under napowrimo14 PAD nationalpoetrymonth poetry

2 notes

red sky at morning
my brother taught the old mariner’s warning to a chubby-cheeked freckled faced girl
i’ve learned since then that storms come in waves and rose-colored daylight has no way of knowing how dark the season of night was
fifty years went by before i gave up on midnight and sat watching the sun creep through the trees of my creak-boned obvious dreams
but pink isn’t red and the sun never rises through a crimson ocean of clouds
light and deliverance can always be obscured by a hand a blanket a curtain or the cold blue mask of sorrow’s lost moon
the truth of each star is doused only by dawn and the slow erasure of a secret last dance from a card filled with yesterday’s dresses . ~Kelly Letky .
(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

red sky at morning

my brother taught the old mariner’s warning
to a chubby-cheeked freckled faced girl

i’ve learned since then that storms come in waves
and rose-colored daylight has no way of knowing
how dark the season of night was

fifty years went by before i gave up on midnight
and sat watching the sun creep through the trees
of my creak-boned obvious dreams

but pink isn’t red and the sun never rises
through a crimson ocean of clouds

light and deliverance can always be obscured
by a hand a blanket a curtain
or the cold blue mask of sorrow’s lost moon

the truth of each star is doused only by dawn
and the slow erasure of a secret last dance
from a card filled with yesterday’s dresses
.
~Kelly Letky
.

(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

Filed under PAD poetry napowrimo14 nationalpoetrymonth

4 notes

walking into walls
i’m not the best singer in the world (my cats are happy to let me know this)
there are days all i want is to curl into a ball (feline style) and wait for tomorrow
or magic or a miracle or even one tiny moment of escape
but this isn’t fiction and you aren’t a hero
(things really aren’t that bad and i’m made of iron)
and then i start to wander (wonder) through characters and words and parceled-out syllables of time
parsimonious gifts that feed me for days
(i always have a bruise on my forehead)
my legs keep moving even in my sleep
i have no destination and i’ve erased all my maps
(paper disintegrates)
i keep trying to cross the threshold of after
but i’m forced to make do with this shiny clean lace-curtained window
(the sky is invisible)
. ~Kelly Letky .
(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

walking into walls

i’m not the best singer in the world
(my cats are happy to let me know this)

there are days all i want
is to curl into a ball (feline style)
and wait for tomorrow

or magic or a miracle or even
one tiny moment of escape

but this isn’t fiction
and you aren’t a hero

(things really aren’t that bad and i’m made of iron)

and then i start to wander (wonder)
through characters and words
and parceled-out syllables of time

parsimonious gifts that feed me
for days

(i always have a bruise on my forehead)

my legs keep moving
even in my sleep

i have no destination
and i’ve erased all my maps

(paper disintegrates)

i keep trying to cross the threshold of after

but i’m forced to make do
with this shiny clean
lace-curtained window

(the sky is invisible)

.
~Kelly Letky
.

(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

Filed under poetry PAD napowrimo14 nationalpoetrymonth

3 notes

snowdrops
in a garden of barely there two white flowers stand side by side
heads bent in a soliloquy of prayer
the ground is barren in all directions
but for these brave soldiers sent ahead to scout for possibility
in the rooted dance of no escape
outstretched arms always almost touching
two white flowers stand side by side in a garden of barely there
.
~Kelly Letky
.
(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

snowdrops

in a garden of barely there
two white flowers stand side by side

heads bent in a soliloquy of prayer

the ground is barren
in all directions

but for these brave soldiers
sent ahead to scout
for possibility

in the rooted dance
of no escape

outstretched arms always almost touching

two white flowers stand side by side
in a garden of barely there

.

~Kelly Letky

.

(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

Filed under PAD poetry napowrimo14 nationalpoetrymonth

7 notes

if i were robin’s egg blue
you would be my after nest and every song would contain the name of forgiveness
the sky would be my blanket and my window stars would glitter on my skin clouds would whisper white lies
hope would never crack open sing for supper fall from grace
and each breeze would brush my skin with the promise of wings
~Kelly Letky

(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

if i were robin’s egg blue

you would be my after nest
and every song would contain the name
of forgiveness

the sky would be my blanket
and my window
stars would glitter on my skin
clouds would whisper white lies

hope would never
crack open
sing for supper
fall from grace

and each breeze
would brush my skin
with the promise
of wings

~Kelly Letky

(via that’s mrs. mediocrity to you)

Filed under poetry PAD napowrimo14 birds spring