Daddy, you eat all the sugar
and leave me bleeding,
a blistered foot with no shoe,
you do,
and I will have to kill
and sculpture you
into a blue marble statue,
bastard, you.
You were the universe, the moon my mistress,
if I had but known your crazed intent
to render me a manless, lifeless
lump of death,
I should have begged
for one last breath.
His body lies cold and blue upon the floor,
her sugar daddy is no more.
The sugar all gone, her craving unsated,
now she wishes that she had waited
and made the bastard beg.
Kim M. Russell, 2017
Images found on Pinterest
My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Twitter Me a Gothic Poem
This Sunday, Magaly says she wants to mix things up a bit and craft poetry that might inspire cackles or cringes. For today’s prompt, she has invited us to write a new 3-stanza poem, where each stanza contains 140 characters or fewer and follows these guidelines:
1st stanza will be a tweet from one of a list of thirteen writers (I chose Sylvia Plath);
2nd stanza will be a reply to the first tweet, by a different writer from the list (I chose Lord Byron);
3rd stanza will be our reply/input/commentary to the exchange between the two writers. The stanza-tweets should be written in the chosen writers’ styles and the completed poem should read as one piece.
Interesting poem. Humourous yet grizzly.
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Thanks for reading, Jacqui! I’m afraid I’ve been playing catch-up this morning as I only got back from a two-day trip yesterday evening. I didn’t have time or opportunity to post anything but did write ideas down while in transit. So this morning has been filled with posting hurriedly scribbled poems before I collect my girls from the cattery.
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Quirky and dark. It suits the poets well.
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Thanks Rommy!
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Kim, I love this. Plath and Byron bleed and rage through the lines (all right, so Byron does most of the bleeding). And your closing stanza is perfect.
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Thank you, Magaly! Byron was very much a lady magnet and if he had lived, I think he could have been a sugar daddy of sorts.
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Ooh! The opening lines gave me chills.. Daddy is one of her darkest poems. Byron is quite the foil for her malevolence.
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Daddy is the closest to a Gothic poem I could think of by Sylvia Plath, so that was my starting point. It was only when I had the first stanza that I decided that only Byron could be the sugar daddy.
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Love this… Plath and Byron draw blood. The sharp tongue of her remorse (or not) made me smile
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Lessons for life indeed
Happy Sunday Kim
Much love…
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Thank you, Gillena. Best wishes for a great week ahead!
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My goodness this is absolutely phenomenal, Kim 😀 and we chose the same poets! Bravo!!❤️
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Thank you, Sanaa! I saw that we chose the dame poets – great minds think alike…. 💖
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❤️
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Ha ha, so different from Sanaa’s imaginings of these two – and just as potent!
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Thank you, Rosemary!
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Wonderful! I found this so difficult. I think you rocked it.
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Thank you, De!
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Phenomenal! 🌹🌹🌹😎
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