Poetry – Killing My Cat

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Monday appointment
3pm
$41 for the medicine of death
$90 to turn you to ash
cancer is no
respecter
of species

Spyder,
what would you say
if you knew
what was coming?

The question haunts me
and you aren’t even
dead yet

PlannerGirl2020 – Planning It All Out

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I’ve never really been one to do the whole planner thing, but I see how much fun others seem to be having doing it on Instagram and their blogs, so I decided to give it a try. Yesterday I bought a simple but cute planner and a planner sticker kit, because I figured the cute stickers would make me more likely to “stick to it” – pun intended.

I have already set up the Jan-March months and am going to keep track of my goals I set for my art, writing, and blog this year. Here are the goals I set:

  • Create at least 2 artworks larger than ACEO cards each month (I love doing ACEO art, but want to do larger artworks as well)
  • Submit poetry to a contest or publication at least once a month (to help with this I ordered the 2020 Poet’s Market guide)
  • Promote at least 2 Instagram posts a week
  • Post on my blog every other day (pretty much keeping my current schedule)
  • Make $1,000+ selling art in 2020 (this was my goal last year too and I think I may have met it or come close, but I didn’t keep track of it well)

I like being able to set goals I can actually control like most of the ones above, rather than abstract numbers of followers/subscribers that I have no control over, although I do set a new goal for Instagram and blog followers each year just for fun.

For 2020, I am aiming for 2,000 followers on my blog and 5,000 followers on IG. Of course, I would LOVE to sail past both of those goals!!!

Poetry – Drummers of War

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Drummers                                               Drummers of War

Phil Collins              diminuendo               Barack Obama
Ringo Starr                                                 Donald Trump
Lars Ulrich                                                 The Clintons
Dave Grohl                                                 The Bush’s
Chad Smith                                                 John Bolton
Keith Moon                                                 Mike Pompeo
John Bonham                                              Netanyahu
Neil Peart                   crescendo                DICK Cheney

                          And the beat goes on…

 

(This is a bit of an experimental poetry piece. I had the idea for it and decided to just go with it. I hope others get the concept. I had a hard time choosing who to put on the right lol. Others that came close to making the cut were Rumsfeld and Condoleeza Rice, but I decided to go with Pompeo and Bolton as they are a bit more relevant currently. I knew I had to have Cheney on there though!)

Poetry – New Year, Same old Sh@#

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I was going to try to write a cheery New Year’s poem…oh well, maybe next year.

“New Year, Same Old Shit”

200,000 crowns
could never satisfy
the heads of those
born unto
the spirit of entitlement.

Nor would 200,000 bodies –
as more than that
have already been
stepped over
or kicked aside
by royal feet.

(Poetry by Maranda Russell, Photo via Pixabay)

Poetry – Freakish Hybrids

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Call us freakish hybrids
or tolerably ugly plebeians,
but it does not define us.

We are a kind of chaos
prepared for a carnival
in the olde grand style.

May it become the height
of supreme folly –
or the ridicule
of the whole world,
our lives play on
as the planet
turns and turns
and changes and changes.

(Original Art & Poetry by Maranda Russell)

Poetry – Sylvia Plath Reincarnated

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I fear I may be
the unfortunate reincarnation
of Sylvia Plath.

Born fifty years to the day
from her initial entrance,
I draw the parallels
between our lives –
lines that connect
far more than astrology.

Both of us poets,
wordsmiths
living through our literary confessions.
Desperate to be taken seriously –
a gift freely granted
to the masculine,
but almost impossible to achieve
with a soft voice and gentle hands.

Both with daddy complexes
due to the abandonment
of an early death,
we seek that missing link
in other men
(some more worthwhile
than others).

Our final connection results
in a morbidly strengthened bond –
a certain disregard
for our own lives.

We dream of being free
from this earthly game,
but lack the forbearance
for a lengthy battle.
Instead, we choose to dream of release –
and in our darker moments,
even plan it.