Andie Bottrell
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Gamble

1/14/2015

1 Comment

 
Tonight's writing group prompt was to write an Abstract Poem. Abstract poems are like abstract paintings in that there is no literal narrative- it's all about using sound to convey emotion and story. You might also use the visual format of the words to help paint your poetic picture. For those who love language for its musicality, it's a wonderful way to play with your words. For those who struggle with this type of form, you might try going to your dictionary and picking a handful of words you like for their sound and then say them over and over again until they start to lose their literal meaning and your brain starts to just play with their sound and the feelings they evoke. You can also just make up your own words! 
Picture
"Serotonin" by Andie Bottrell
Here's mine:

I gamble
In furtive fertilizer
Futile abandon
Flummoxed in the 
The middle ground
Stuck like sticks
Tied
Kept down
Dinner sits on heavy hips
And lips adorned with
Sugar canes don’t 
Seem to get kissed
As much as 
Mourned
My knees get bound
With rope in town
And silly girls 
Leap
To escape me now
I get
I get hit
I get lower
In myself
Lowed down, mowed down
Downtown is ripe with 
Grief 
Disguised in 
Heels
And bright colors
Perfect teeth
Just masks for 
Frowns
How now, how now
Little ghosts of my
Dreams 

Seem happier
To see me than in 

Real life
My jibby-jabs
Do fail to greet me
I feel great 

Sometimes
Oh yes, in heaps
Levitate above the
Fettered meeps 

Who creep
Like manikins with mobile hands
I seep into delight 
Like
The catticans 
In klissims 
Of star-sheep
And the manic laugh does 
Seem to me 
A highered 
Down
Than weeps of 
Clowns
Masquerading as fun but 
Horrifying 
Out of context
I bow down, I bow down
When my frailties 
Lie
To my friends- and Mom
Spies 
In me the 

Delicate lining
Spits and spots of tares and holes
Shoot out my armor 
Loose strings, and 
Don’t pull
Or I’ll lose stuffing
Lose life, lose little sleep
Lose those 
Fun 
Star-shaped
Sheep
"Get up until the feathers falter,"

My father yells
On wings of grave diggers
Their shoulders enough to 
Alter
The course of dirted ground
How now
This very thing
I gamble

1 Comment
Tiffany Tasting Food link
11/23/2020 05:36:26 pm

Thanks for writinng this

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    About

    Hey! I'm Andie Bottrell, a multidisciplinary creative living in Springfield, MO. I share stories (autobiographical and fictional), poems, and other creative or personal musings here. 

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