Cook Me With Tenderness
By: Maranda Russell
Clever,
and not yet
without tricks,
I seem to
only disappoint
you further.
But I beg of you,
don’t roast me –
just smash me to bits
and cook me
with tenderness.
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Poetry
Short Poetry – Poured Out
Poured Out
By: Maranda Russell
Why do I feel like
my poetry sucks?
I try to write,
only to find myself
empty,
poured out like milk
and starting to
curdle.
Bronchitis (Again!) and Short Bits of Blackout Poetry
I’ve come down with another nasty case of bronchitis, so I’m taking it easy, hoping the antibiotics kick in soon, and putting together bits of loosely created blackout poetry (using some magazines and comics I’ve read lately). Here are a few of these creative little bits:
1)
Not a single one
became a hugely successful
project,
save the seals, coins,
and animal bones.
2)
The result
of a terrible illegality
controls
a large new stairway
down
to the mounds of holy dirt.
3)
To arms!
To the ramparts!
To let me nap in peace.
4)
The pin
is mightier
than the sword –
if gouged
into thine eye.
These bits of poetry are short, random, and sometimes a bit nonsensical, but I enjoy playing with language, and even the most ambiguous ones have a sort of language musicality to me.
Poetry – Anxiety Lament
Anxiety Lament
By: Maranda Russell
Clenched teeth
and clenched fists
accompany defiant eyes.
I have high expectations
but I avoid them all.
Sick in the stomach,
sick in the head,
sick of this life.
I would cry,
but I never
penciled it in today.
TV Blackout Poetry: American Horror Story
Last night while I was watching the 4th season of American Horror Story (Freak Show), I had the idea to write a poem using a similar technique to the “blackout poetry” idea, but instead of using print, I would take a few random phrases or words from the tv show I was watching and put them together to make a poem. It was pretty fun and I do like what I came up with:
American Horror Story
By: Maranda Russell
Laundry detergent commercials
offer their brand of oddity
to the outside world.
Should you hear
sirens call,
remember,
nice don’t pay the bills!
So what do you guys think of my idea? Do you like the resulting poem? It is odd, but I like it.
Poetry: Sleeping Angels
Sleeping Angels
By: Maranda Russell
Sleeping angels
are drawn in peaceful beauty –
their ephemeral wings
tucked in tight,
their eyes closed
in gentle repose,
and their chubby palms
cupped beneath rosy cheeks –
but ask yourself
as you turn away,
what happens to their charges
while they slumber on the job?
Fun 6 Word Story Writing Prompts
I must admit that I stole these 6 word story writing prompts from one of my favorite WordPress bloggers, Therapy Bits. I’m not sure where she gets these prompts, or if she makes them up herself, but I thought they looked like a lot of fun, so I started borrowing a few of them just to see what I could come up with. Personally, I tend to think of these 6 word stories as a minimalist form of poetry, even tighter and more concise than haiku.
So here are a few of the prompts and what I came up with:
“Curves”
Her curves couldn’t outweigh her personality.
“Belief”
To hold a belief is self-delusion.
“Doll”
One doll, with third degree burns.
“Mundane”
Mundane, but still better than Monday.
“Maddening”
A cat is a maddening creature.
“Offer”
Make an offer, I can refuse.
“Plausible”
Perhaps plausible, but is it infallible?
“Rebel”
Rebel against your own poor expectations.
I hope you guys enjoyed this. Let me know if you did and maybe I’ll do more in the future. If you want to share any 6 word stories you come up with, feel free to do so in the comments!
Poetry: Sleeping Poetic Genius
Sleeping Poetic Genius
By: Maranda Russell
I wrote a poem
in my sleep last night.
The words, colors, and images
now blur in my mind.
I try to pin them down,
only to have them
wiggle away
like a puppy
desperate to escape
a confining embrace.
The poem was grand,
of this I am sure.
A masterpiece of language,
now shriveled and dried up
like an unlucky worm
laying dead
after a rainstorm.
Poetry: Waffle House at 3am
Waffle House at 3am
By: Maranda Russell
Waffle House
at 3 am
is not the place
to make a scene.
It doesn’t matter
if your heart
is broken,
if your brother
just ran off
with your boyfriend,
or if you want
to punch
that smarmy cook
right
in the left
testicle.
Stringy hashbrowns
cover a multitude
of sins,
vanilla coke
softly bubbles
over salty wounds,
and once in a while,
raisin toast
can be sweeter
than revenge.
