(The following slightly risque poem was inspired by a passage from Ulysses by James Joyce, which turned out to be a lot dirtier (and nonsensical) than I thought it would be lol.)
Stop. Knocking.
Silly man!
Want women by the score?
Quit throwing flowers
at their feet
and singing sappy
songs outside
in your feathered cap.
Gifts? Words? Music?
No.
Tip her.
Tap her.
Top her.
Hi everyone! I already showed you my adorable stuffed Scar, but thought I would share a few other favorite gifts from my husband (Steve) this year.
First, we have this Halloween wreath that he actually made for me (for years I have been telling him I wanted a Halloween wreath):
The best thing about this wreath is that all the decorations are removable, so you can redecorate it or swap stuff out whenever you want. He got me a bunch of other decorations (skull lights, creepy flowers, more spiders/cutouts/etc.) to use with it if I so wish.
He also got me this Anubis prayer bead necklace and Anubis & mummy statue set (the mummy actually goes inside the Anubis sarcophagus):
Steve bought me several books, all of which I like, but my favorites are these two:
Both of these books are very thorough reference materials for two of my favorite subjects – world mythology and world literature! I especially like that both of these do not just center on Greek/European/American history, but are more expansive than that.
So there you have a further peek into my Christmas haul 🙂
(I wrote this new little poem the other day and have had a hard time deciding if it should just be shortened to contain the first stanza only, or if it is better with both. I figured I would share it with you guys and see if anyone had an opinion. Should I keep it as is with the two stanzas, or should I cut out the last four lines and have a much shorter, but perhaps punchier poem?)
He offered up money
for his liberty,
but could never quite reach
the asking price.
Though he bid
higher and higher,
the inflation would only
keep rising.
1.
Literary foes –
poetry and drama show
villains in us all
2.
Feminine essence:
pleasing full moon glow upon
newly burst lilies
3.
Immortal halo
once crafted for an angel,
my head now weighed down
Her last three footsteps
raised the devil.
At the sight of her,
hell surrendered –
besieged by the spirits
of plunder and
confiscation.
(Another blackout poem inspired by A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens)
I got a new blackout poetry journal that uses classic literature to inspire new works of poetry. This first one is my attempt at making original poetry from a random page of J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan:
Nightlights
My love,
were not all natural
dreams forgotten?
The skeleton
crawled about the floor,
rattled up the chimney,
and bathed her hand in sleep.
Nightlights pulsed
while strange children
found new mothers
in the faces of the night.
Once all were safe
her fears sat down
by the quickening fire,
warming the nursery.
A Bit of Lewis Carroll Nonsense
By: Maranda Russell
The serious ones
and the bonkers ones
are rare birds
telling tales of
biscuits and chewed pencils
served with curry
and elegance –
a feast
which you can chew on
for ten whole years.
The past couple days I’ve been in the mood to do some adult coloring. Using my Tolkien’s World adult coloring book that I received from a friend, I used my art markers and other art supplies to finish these two pictures of a raven and a vampire bat, which I felt would fit the Halloween season well:
If I remember right, I think the raven picture is from The Hobbit series, and the vampire bat is from Tolkien’s lesser known work, The Silmarillion. I like the way both of them turned out and they are listed for sale on My Ebay store if you are interested in them.
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.
