Brandon Ellrich's Blog, page 10

Dear Brandon…

Advice

I was trying to think of a new article/blog post to write, but I wasn’t sure what might resonate with readers. I have a degree in psychology, which I don’t utilize in my current job (except when psychoanalyzing my coworkers and boss). I believe my poems and short stories connect with readers on an emotional level, but I want to be able to help people in other ways.

I thought of an advice-type column, sort of a “Dear Abby,” but maybe a little different. If I could get readers to write to me with an issue they are dealing with, I would use that as the subject for my blog post. I wouldn’t respond directly to their specific, personal problem, but address the subject in a more general sense, hoping that it would be relatable to a wider range of people.

I’m not claiming to be an expert on everything that individuals might be dealing with, and whatever I write will be my own opinion and not to be taken in place of a trained psychologist or mental health care professional. With that in mind, if you would like the opinion of an outsider, someone who can be more objective than maybe a friend or relative, this might be the venue for you to bounce off an idea or seek some friendly advice. I can’t and won’t promise the best solution, nor will I promise that I will definitely use your issue as the subject of my post, but if it is something that will be appealing to readers, I would love to see how it goes.

Since this is completely different than my usual posts, the other question is: Should I create an entirely separate blog for this series? Would it be appealing to my current readers or should I branch out to look for an entirely new audience? Now, I’ll be asking for your participation (don’t worry, it’s an easy task). I have only created one poll before, but this seems like a good opportunity to present another one. I think they’re fun, and I hope you do too. They will also help to gauge the interests of my readers.

*This is an invitation to adults only; no one under 18, please.

If you have a different suggestion I haven’t mentioned, feel free to leave a comment. Thanks for your participation!

Brandon

The Maurader’s Map

Image credit; Valeriia @ PexelsThe Maurader's Map was acquired by me;
From whom, I cannot say.
I longed for my true love to see,
And this would show me the way.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good,"
And there were her footsteps, revealed.
I could simply talk to her, but I never would,
And my feelings remained concealed.

I casually bumped into her at the coffee shop,
A place she often haunted,
And that's where I should have stopped,
But it's not all that I wanted,

I followed her again to a local store,
And gave her a smile and a wave.
It wasn't enough; I needed more,
I needed to be more brave.

I saw her again at the fruit stand,
Eyeing an apple, red and delicious.
We both reached and I touched her hand;
She seemed to be suspicious.

She avoided me then, wherever she was,
And so I stayed away.
Where she is now, I can't tell because,
I threw the map away.

A magic map can reveal many things,
Where footprints end or start.
It cannot change a person's feelings;
For love, you must reveal your heart.


Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich

This poem was written in response to Sadje’s What do you see # 157- October 24, 2022, so please visit her site to participate and/or read other responses.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this post, please click the like button and leave a comment as well. Follow me if you would like to receive updates whenever new posts are published.

Creature of the Night

[image error]Pexels.com" data-medium-file="https://brandonellrich.files.wordpres..." data-large-file="https://brandonellrich.files.wordpres..." src="https://brandonellrich.files.wordpres..." alt="Creature of the Night" class="wp-image-1509" width="599" height="397" srcset="https://brandonellrich.files.wordpres... 300w, https://brandonellrich.files.wordpres... 150w" sizes="(max-width: 599px) 100vw, 599px" />Photo by Erik Karits on Pexels.comSilent creature of the night,
Dimly featured by pale moonlight,
Quitely cutting through the dark,
Wisely judging its chosen mark,
Balanced gracefully o’er the ground,
Talons splayed, striking down,
Noiseless attack from out the air,
Helpless prey unaware,
As the sunlight lingers near,
The owl and moon have disappeared.

Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this poem, please click the like button and leave a comment as well. Follow me if you would like to receive updates on new posts whenever they are published.

If you liked this poem, you may also like my poem Victim.

Caturday, 10-22-22

It’s almost noon and these two are still in bed!

Well, it’s Caturday, so I guess it’s okay.

“Like and subscribe!”

The Door Under the Stairs

Photo by Brandon EllrichA mysterious door found under the stairs,A door of entrance or exit to where?From the other side, no door can be seen,Yet light shines through; what can this mean?Smaller than a normal person would use,Created for a purpose or just to confuse?A portal of dimensions? I believe no such tall tales,Yet the reason it’s there, my explanations fail.Undiscovered for years, a hidden mystery,And so it remains until I find the key.Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich

Here is Alan’s response to this photo prompt:

Flash of lightning from under the door…
crash of thunder I cannot ignore…
Is he raising the dead
with a shock to the head?
I just heard a loud thump on the floor!

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this poem, please click the like button and leave a comment as well. Follow me if you would like to receive updates whenever new posts are published.

If you liked this one, you may also like Halloween or my short story Scarecrow.

The Strangers

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

This poem is in response to The Skeptic’s Kaddish W3 Prompt #25: Wea’ve Written Weekly and is inspired by the movie The Strangers starring Liv Tyler. It is probably one of the scariest movies I have ever seen, and this ekphrastic poem is in tribute to this terrifying movie. It is said to have been based on true events, which makes it even more horrific.

The StrangersWe vacationed in a quiet place,Away from the city, more open space.An evening after a wedding reception,The night’s peaceful scene was but a deception.Sounds of late-night knocking gave us a scare;We opened the door, but no one was there.“Kids playing pranks”--and we tried to ignore,But there were, this time, loud bangs on the door.We opened again to nobody in sight;This ongoing nuisance turned into a fright.We looked out the window and out on the lawn,Three strangers were standing with white masks on.We locked the doors, dared not let them in;They spoke not a word, no intention.But the strangers broke in; they didn’t care,As they beat us and then they tied us to chairs.Through my sobs, I asked one of them, “Why?”“Because you were home,” was the girl’s reply.After causing such terror and so much dread,They stabbed us and then they left us for dead.“Don’t speak to those you don’t know” you’ve been taught,And you should be wary if they speak or not.We never knew we were ever in danger,Until the appearance of three masked strangers.Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this poem (or if it freaked you out!), please click the like button and leave a comment. Follow me if you would like to receive updates whenever new posts are published.

If you liked this one, you may also like Halloween, Through the Mist and Fog, Sounds, or the short stories Dia de los Muertos or Scarecrow. Check out my book Tell Me No Secret as well!

Scarecrow

Photo by robin mikalsen on Unsplash

I am alive! I have been created for only one purpose: to strike fear. And that I shall do. I am placed upon a towering frame, overlooking a vast field, standing guard over this harvest. The birds should not dare approach my territory. I do not move whilst people are about, for that which has been created can, from him, be life removed.

Darkness hovers above us, descending slowly but resolutely. Stillness is settling in the trees as the birds find their homes. My job in the field is coming to an end, yet I am not finished with my created purpose. 

I disembark from the pole that holds me aloft and go toward the home of my maker. I creep as quietly as possible, creating only the soft rustling of straw, and peer inside a window to see a little boy. He turns over in his bed, looks toward the window and screams in terror when he sees my poorly constructed face. My mission complete, I swiftly return to my post as I see his bedroom illuminated. No doubt his parents have come to assuage his fears.

The next morning, the boy is playing outside. When I turn my head to look at him, I hear the familiar scream before he retreats inside the house. I do not see him again that day. After darkness has draped itself over us, I let myself down once again. I move stealthily toward the house, approach the same window and look inside. A small light is left on beside the bed, and the boy is restless. He turns over and meets my gaze. His eyes widen with a look of dread, but he refrains from making any sound. I then smile maliciously and he screams as he runs from the room and I take my leave.

The next morning, the boy comes outside holding the hand of my creator. I am deathly still as they approach.

“See, Nickie? It’s just a pair of grandpa’s old overalls and one of my worn out flannel shirts, stuffed with straw,” he says as they come closer.

The boy’s skeptical face betrays him.

“Look,” his father says as he pokes at my body. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

They join hands once again as they walk away. I watch as the boy turns back to take one more glimpse. I smile and wave at him and he grabs hold of his father’s leg. I then quickly revert to my lifeless expression once again.

Goodbye, little one, until tonight…

Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this post, please click the like button and leave a comment. Follow me if you would like to receive updates whenever new posts are published.

If you liked this post, you may also like Dia de los Muertos.

Escape

Colors bursting across the sky,Soul is thirsting to rise and fly,Into the air, escaping life,Away from care, worry, strife;Above the earth, toward the sun,Full of mirth, reckless fun.No path to trace from those before,An open space, my open door.My spirit sails on endless seas,A course unveiled to eternity!Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich

This poem was written in response to Sadje’s What do you see #156- October 17, 2022, so please visit her page to participate and/or read other responses.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this poem, please click the like button and leave a comment as well. Follow me if you would like to receive updates whenever new posts are published.

Photo Prompt

Photo by Brandon Ellrich

I participate in several writing prompts, but I don’t normally host them myself. Just out of curiosity, I wanted to try this one.

This is a photo of a door under the stairs that leads to the basement of the house in which I am living. At the bottom of my basement stairs, there is a normal-size door that leads into a garage, but under the stairs is this older, smaller wooden door with an old-fashioned door knob and latch that also leads into the same garage area, so I am baffled as to why it is there, why it is so small, etc. I don’t know what its purpose is/was. Just so many questions.

I’ll publish my own inspired poem on…Friday, let’s say. So, I’d like to see what others can come up with. You can post on your own website and paste the link into the comments, or post the poem/story/explanation in its entirety in the comment section if it’s something short, I suppose.

I’m looking forward to seeing what other people will come up with. Thanks for joining in!

Brandon Ellrich

Holding On

Photo by Tobias Tullius on Unsplash
It’s hard to stay up when they keep knocking you down, It’s difficult to stay positive in a negative world,Your voice can’t be heard when you don’t make a sound, Want to be a grown woman but you’re just a little girl.Things could be better, but you don’t want to try, What doesn’t matter now were things you adored,Tears soak your pillow but you don’t know why, You had love and hope but you don’t anymore.“There is light at the end,” you have heard it said, The dawn follows darkness and so you wait,You convince yourself you’re not better off dead, Get up and get moving before it’s too late.Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich

*Originally published on Medium

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this poem, please click the like button and leave a comment as well. Follow me if you want to receive updates whenever new posts are published.

If this poem resonated with you, you may also want to read In My Head or Spiral of Depression.