Tag: Carrie Magness Radna

Wendy (no. 72 of Women’s names sensual series)

She woke up, alarmed,
in a stranger’s bed;

charmed by her dream of a parallel life:
where she was married with 3 kids—
they were clever & they could fly!

She flew outta there fast,
before he woke up.

Just another Peter Pan
who’d charmed her
at da’ club—

Why was she always duped
by this type of man? Or DUUUDE!?
Where were the actual men,
who would give a damn
about other people besides themselves?

She wondered:
How long can she be doing this,
to fuck & run,
like Liz Phair’s young heroine?

She’s not that young anymore.
Time to cash in her ticket
to Never Never Land.

Is the dream of her own kids
and a good man still viable,
or was it make believe?

©2020 Carrie Magness Radna All rights reserved.

Carrie Magness Radna is an audiovisual cataloger at New York Public Library, a choral singer and a poet who loves traveling. Her poems have previously appeared in The Oracular Tree, Mediterranean Poetry, Muddy River Poetry Review, Poetry Super Highway, Shot Glass Journal, Vita Brevis, Home Planet News, Cajun Mutt Press, Walt’s Corner, Polarity eMagazine, The Poetic Bond (VIII & IX), Alien Buddha Press, Jerry Jazz Musician, and First Literary Review-East. Her first poetry collection, Hurricanes never apologize (Luchador Press) was published in December 2019. Born in Norman, Oklahoma, she now lives with her husband in Manhattan.

Lust in Contagion

His heart was carved
out of modern cowboys.

She smiled her pirate grin
under the mask,
hoping both of them
wouldn’t disappear—

but their bodies did
under blue cotton bedsheets
rivaling horizontal clouds.

(They were not causal visitors;
no worries. They lived together
for many years)

but in these times of
#AloneTogether,
boring couple routines
should be suspended—

The living room
shouldn’t become another law firm;
where does the poetry go?

She grabs his smart tie
after the last virtual meeting of the day:
“There’s more work to do…in here…

Outside clothes are shed,
gloves are peeled off;
a sexy, communal hot shower
before the big event—

“And when we get
behind closed doors”
we’ll let our hair hang down*

*–From Behind closed doors (1973), written by Kenny O’Dell

©2020 Carrie Magness Radna All rights reserved.

Born in Norman, Oklahoma, Carrie Magness Radna is an audiovisual cataloger at the New York Public Library, a singer, a lyricist-songwriter, and a poet who loves to travel. Her poems have previously appeared in the Oracular Tree, Tuck Magazine, Muddy River Poetry Review, First Literary Review-East, Mediterranean Poetry, Shot Glass Journal and The Poetic Bond VIII, and will be published in Nomad’s Choir, Polarity E-Magazine and Cosmographia’s “The spirit, it travels: an anthology of transcendent poetry” (July 2019). She won 12^th prize of the 2018 Writer’s Digest Poetry Awards for “Lily (no. 48 of Women’s names sensual series),” and 3^rd prize for “The tunnel” (category: Words on the Wall: All-Genre Prompt) at the 69^th annual Philadelphia Writers’ Conference (2017). Her first chapbook, Conversations with dead composers at Carnegie Hall (Flutter Press) was published in January 2019, and Remembering you as I go walking (Boxwood Star Press) was published on August 23, 2019. Her latest poetry collection, Hurricanes never apologize, was published by Luchador Press in December 2019. She lives with her husband Rudolf in Manhattan.  

Fuzzy, romantic feelings (in cars)

I don’t have a womb-like car anymore.
Back then, I saw the world from cinema-like windows
as the storms fell fast. Music played on the radio

an ‘80s dream soundtrack, giving off
fuzzy, romantic feelings. My eyes stayed open,
my heart pained as if I were 16 again.

The street full of rain is still there,
but most of the cars have disappeared.
The rain now extinguishes younger fires.

I traveled long & settled down thousands of miles away,
exchanging my old car for money & freedom.
The movie & music changed overnight.

I now walk in the elements;
a hired driver sometimes picks me up,
but the fuzzy, romantic feelings from the radio

still haunt me. I go back to Square 1,
remembering the girl with her own car,
longing for freedom.

©2020 Carrie Magness Radna All rights reserved.

Born in Norman, Oklahoma, Carrie Magness Radna is an audiovisual cataloger at the New York Public Library, a singer, a lyricist-songwriter, and a poet who loves to travel. Her poems have previously appeared in the Oracular Tree, Tuck Magazine, Muddy River Poetry Review, First Literary Review-East, Mediterranean Poetry, Shot Glass Journal and The Poetic Bond VIII, and will be published in Nomad’s Choir, Polarity E-Magazine and Cosmographia’s “The spirit, it travels: an anthology of transcendent poetry” (July 2019). She won 12^th prize of the 2018 Writer’s Digest Poetry Awards for “Lily (no. 48 of Women’s names sensual series),” and 3^rd prize for “The tunnel” (category: Words on the Wall: All-Genre Prompt) at the 69^th annual Philadelphia Writers’ Conference (2017). Her first chapbook, Conversations with dead composers at Carnegie Hall (Flutter Press) was published in January 2019, and Remembering you as I go walking (Boxwood Star Press) was published on August 23, 2019. Her latest poetry collection, Hurricanes never apologize, was published by Luchador Press in December 2019. She lives with her husband Rudolf in Manhattan.