poetry

GUITAR (a poem)

for whatever reason
my brain’s got a
thing for music.

the music’s a salve,
a sweet drug that
turns me lucid.

i made a promise
to myself, i
intend to keep:

one day i’m gonna buy
that old guitar,
even if it’s cheap.

you called out to me
from a booth in
an antiques shop,

and you stayed with me
for hours, until
i had to stop,

because time had flown
by, and you took
me to the stars:

but i will come back,
never let you go,
my old guitar.


DAY 7 OF THE SEPTEMBER POETRY SERIES.

Okay, I promised you guys I would take a break from the dramatic poems of the past week and do something a little more light-hearted. Therefore, we’ve got this little guy, “Guitar,” which is pretty basic.

To give you guys some background, I’ll implore you to imagine yourself in an antiques shop surrounded by at least a hundred little booths of random knickknacks and relics of the past. Antiques shops are so much fun to explore, because you never know what you’ll find, and one weekend in the beginning of August I found myself in front of an old guitar. While I play the ukulele, it’s not the same thing as the guitar, but my trepidation didn’t stop me. I knew I had to play this guitar, and the intense emotion that connected me to the instrument was almost ridiculous.

For whatever reason, I’ve always loved music. Some people are wired for it, and others don’t really care, but I’m definitely on the first boat. Maybe it’s the imagination in me, the almost constant desire to transport myself elsewhere, but music is a perfect outlet for escape.

So, I did make a little promise to myself on that August night: With the money from my first paycheck as a CFI (a certified flight instructor), I’d go back to that booth and buy that guitar.

Ridiculous, perhaps, but it’s a promise I intend to keep.

IMG_8602
This picture is awful, but here is the guitar I will buy in a few months.

THANK YOU!

Thank you, my wonderful readers, for sticking with me during this first week of the September Poetry Series. You’ve chosen to read this, which makes you a very important part of my life. Thank you for that, and I’m blessed by your presence!

More poetry tomorrow.

-Katie Kay.

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