Recently I discovered Elfchen poems, which are 5-line poems that follow this pattern:
Line 1 – 1 word
Line 2 – 2 words
Line 3 – 3 words
Line 4 – 4 words
Line 5 – 1 word (different than the first line word)
It is also common to take the last word of someone else’s Elfchen poem to start off your own new one.
Here are several of my first tries with this poetic genre:
when you live
in an unstable world,
weakness creeps in
settles on the edge,
lie firmly under
your tongue in cheek,
Today was a rather stressful day since I had an appointment with my lawyer for my SSDI hearing next week, so I didn’t have time to plan a full post, but I did want to participate again in the Twittering Tales picture prompt by Kat Myrman. As I explained last week, this writing challenge is to simply write a short story, or poem, or whatever you want as long as it is under 280 characters (the length of a tweet).
Here is this week’s picture prompt and my entry for this week below (photo from Pixabay):
My mother considered naming me Candy, but worried that if I turned out to be fat, it would be more ammunition for the bullies to use against me.
I didn’t turn out to be fat, but I did turn out to love candy – except for those little Valentine’s hearts.
I came across these “Twittering Tales” writing prompts yesterday and thought it looked like a lot of fun. The challenge is to take a photo prompt and write a short story, poem, or whatever comes to mind, but you have to keep it under 280 characters, just like a tweet on Twitter. I decided to go ahead and write a twittering tale for last week’s prompt as well as this week’s prompt.
Here is the one I came up with for last week’s prompt (photo from Pixabay):
Hearts and stars. Hearts and stars. Simple shapes that any preschool child could identify, but symbolic of so much more.
The heart…love, obsession, passion, heartwarming, heartbreaking, blood pumping. The star…cosmic, mysticism, alchemy, popularity, holidays, holy days.
And here is the second prompt (photo also from Pixabay). This one took a bit of a dark turn, but it was what came to mind for some reason:
It starts with one word:
Helium. A harmless word? Parties. Balloons floating around the room. Rough, gruff voices becoming chipmunk squeaks.
Or do you picture tragedy? Helium tanks hooked up to hoses. Bodies lying still with bags over their heads. Voluntary euthanasia. The end.
Let me know if you guys enjoyed these. Maybe I’ll do more!
I collect too many things. I collect tons of toys/action figures/dolls/squishies/stuffed animals/minifigures (Barbie, My Little Pony, Sesame Street, Looney Tunes, Lego, Nickelodeon, Disney, Schleich, Funko Pops, Reborns, Cabbage Patch Dolls, Coraline, etc.) I have an entire room for all my toys and collectibles. I collect books, especially children’s books and books about subjects I am obsessed with, ranging from Michael Jackson, Nirvana, and Dance Moms, to art/artists, writing/writers, poetry, comics/manga, and antique books. The books also have a room of their own, which they share with my husband’s smaller but still sizable book collection (mostly history, true crime, and science fiction grace his shelves).
I have a huge collection of art supplies and stickers (which also get shoved into my extra “toy room”). I have a large collection of cds, especially from my favorite artists (MJ again, Nirvana, Foo Fighters, Enya, Simon & Garfunkel, The Beatles, 60’s 70’s & 90’s hits, Disney soundtracks, etc.)
I have an entire dresser drawer full of bookmarks, a wide selection of cute or nerdy notebooks/journals/stationery and a cabinet full of magickal/pagan themed objects I use for my little ritual altar. I also have a large collection of sentimental items I have saved ranging from photos to cards to letters to objects from loved ones who have passed on.
I am emotionally connected to many of the things I collect and the idea of parting with them is traumatic. I figure this need to collect things is part of the autistic side of me, but sometimes I become overwhelmed by the size of my own collections!
This little poem was inspired by a middle grade book series called “Malice” by Chris Wooding. I liked the world that was created, and decided to capture just a bit of it in poetry (my favorite line is the “mushroom lamps” one):
By: Maranda Russell
Take the evening train
into the cavernous abyss.
Light up the darkness
with your mushroom lamps
and a fist full
of round trip tickets.