Monday June 1st, 2015

The exercise:

Apparently it is June now. Hmm.

Write something that has to do with: knives.

Spent the morning with Max, mostly running errands in town. Had to hand in my payroll paperwork at Town Hall, drop off a criminal record check at the police station (because when I'm called into work at the Community Centre I'll be working around/with kids), returned a book to the library, booked Max a haircut for later this week, and bought some groceries. There was a snack and coffee time in there somewhere as well.

After dinner I got started on the next strawberry harvest. Partially because it's going to take a long time to get through them all, but mostly because the forecast seems to be suggesting that tomorrow morning will consist of rain, rain, and more rain.

Also: rain.

So I wanted to get as much done in the not rain as possible.

Wish us luck tomorrow. And warmth.

Mine:

The knives have been sharpened,
They're ready for use.
She's staring out the window,
Tired of the abuse.
She has suffered enough,
There will be no more;
She is feeling so focused
She doesn't hear the door.
He comes up behind her,
His expression hard,
And joins her silent vigil
On the backyard.
They watch their veggie garden
Until it appears,
Then she hurries outside,
Grabs the rabbit by the ears.
Enough carrots have gone missing,
She says with a sigh.
Now play time is over -
The rabbit must die.

3 Comments:

Greg said...

So the criminal record check is to make sure you've got the right kind of criminal records, right? There's comic potential there if you got any of the items mixed up (dropping your payroll details off at the barber's, handing Max in to the police station and trying to buy a criminal record check at the grocery store :) ). Good luck with the harvest! We've got severe weather warnings for winds at the moment, so it could be worse.
I really like the poem, with its neat twist that she (and he!) are both waiting for something else to punish with the knives, and the rhythm flows nicely all the way through (that said, I think "stern vigil" might work better than "silent vigil" as the line seems a syllable too long as it stands). I do feel a little sorry for the rabbit though :)

Knives
As I was going to St. Ives
I met a man with seven wives,
He said "I think it's much more fun,
That getting stuck with only one!"

Every wife had seven knives,
Every knife claimed seven lives,
Every life had seven drives,
That brought it to its end.

As I got closer to St. Ives
I met a man with seven eyes.
Every eye was made of glass,
And he wouldn't let me pass.

Every wife I'd seen before
Pinned him down upon the floor
And seven knives were raised in hate...
And I passed by, a little late.

ivybennet said...

So June = knives? Haha, that's how it sounded. Great poem! I thought it was going in a completely different direction until the every end. I must say, as much as I like rabbits (bunnies, really), I think I prefer this ending than the one I was anticipating.

Greg: Wow! I think you might have outdone yourself with this poem. The repetition of sevens and the sing-song rhyme are absolutely spectacular.

Knives:

Gleaming silver blinking in the sunlight. Reflecting trees, grass, the lake in the corner. A red and white checked picnic blanket. Picnics. Yum. Reflecting a couple siting, eating off of paper circles with silver sticks. Eating mashed taters, leaves, coolcumbers. Man in shirt and pants. Lady in yellow dress. Pretty yellow, sun yellow. Spots of red. Blood red. Man touched lady. Lady smiles. Man want lady.
I want lady.
Gleaming silver dirty now. Screams louder than planes overhead. Gleaming silver not gleaming no more. Lots of blood everywhere. Blood.
Yum.

Marc said...

Greg - yes, something like that :P

Hah, I imagine any sort of mixing up with those errands would have been big trouble!

That's a magical poem you've got there. I agree with Ivy, and would also add that the final two stanzas really bring it to a perfect ending.

Ivy - glad the misdirection worked; though I'm quite capable of going dark with my writing I tend to prefer not to. Here on the blog, at least.

I see that you have no such qualms though! Hah, that is one creepy tale, though you manage to hide just *how* creepy until near the very end there. Very well done!