Bronchitis (Again!) and Short Bits of Blackout Poetry

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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

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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.

Poetry: Sleeping Poetic Genius

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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: Church Abuse

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Church Abuse
By: Maranda Russell

The lace unravels.
The smaller holes
become bigger tears
as the candle wax
hardens on the soft,
satin cloth.

Prayers,
and pleas
and petitions
abound,
but the altar
lies irrevocably
ruined.