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The Best Worst Blog Post of All Time

This is, undoubtedly, the best worst blog post of all time. (Why? Who even says that about their blog?) I do. Because I’ve spent over 14 months drafting it. No one in their right bloomin’ mind would spend so much time on something so small and insignificant in the grand scheme of life. It’s like obsessing over a 14-month-old band-aid. Just rip the damn thing off already. (And seriously…you’re disgusting for leaving it on that long. Ew, Jess. Just…ew. #shameshameshame) So here we are. Where to begin. Tiny Head-Voice squeaking: “Start at the beginning and go to the end!” (NO.…

Pop Up Poetry – Valentine’s Weekend 2016

Saturday, February 13th Brooks Winery, 12:00 p.m. – 4:00 p.m. Poetry is “on the house” this Saturday, courtesy of the amazing Brooks Winery! Come to their gorgeous tasting room for some exquisite wine flights, a phenomenal view, and excellent conversation. Ask me to type up a poem on my vintage typewriter for you, or as a gift to someone! Give a subject; get a poem. It’s that easy. And what pairs better than wine and poetry? Donations accepted, and don’t forget to tip your server! See you there! Sunday, February 14th Broadway Coffeehouse, 9:00 a.m. – 12:00 p.m. As a teaser…

The Christmas Story

THE CHRISTMAS STORY

by Jessica Murdoch, Rhetorical Redhead ©2015 All Rights Reserved

As written and performed by Jessica Murdoch for the Christmas Eve Services at Salem Alliance Church on December 24th, 2015

(Spoken Word & Art Collaboration introduction begins at the 23:32 time stamp in the LiveStream Video)

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INTRO

‘Twas not the silent night of old

tradition leads us to believe;

perhaps the greatest story told

is the ‘Unspoken Christmas Eve.’

Both fully-God and fully-man,

fulfilling holy prophecy,

the Rock on which the Church would stand

bore humble birth and ancestry.

Come sit, come hear the Tale of Times

retold in careful word and script;

there’s much to read between the lines

revealed anew each year, for it’s

beyond the text, beyond the page,

these people, places, feeling, thought,

define a Faith that’s without age

because of Love, because of God.

‘Tis the Season: Spend More Time, Spend Less Money

‘Twas the eve before Christmas and all through downtown, not a single soul resting—no time to slow down! With twinkle lights hung (precarious in the rain) in hopes that next year this won’t happen again. The wish lists were gripped, e’en taken to beds, while visions of bright price tags danced in their heads. Our customs, traditions—how stressors do climb! This season merely asks: “Spend less money; more time.” – Written by J.M. Murdoch (c)2015 – [This imperfect poem is a nod to “The Night Before Christmas,” first published anonymously on December 23rd, 1823 in the Troy Sentinel newspaper in upstate New…

“Is Anyone Thirsty?”

On Wednesday, October 28th, John Stumbo, the Alliance Board of Directors, and Salem Alliance Church hosted the The Alliance’s fourth Livestream Praise and Prayer event based on “Is Anyone Thirsty?” Isaiah 55:1 (NLT). Area churches were welcomed to attend in Salem, Oregon, while the entire Alliance family around the world was invited to participate online. The livestream video can be viewed here. (Poem performed at the 11:30 time-stamp.)

The following original spoken word poem was written and performed by Jessica Murdoch for the aforementioned event.

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Murdoch performing her spoken word at Salem Alliance on October 28th. Photo credit: CMAlliance.org.

“Is Anyone Thirsty?”

Written and Performed by Jessica Murdoch, Rhetorical Redhead
©2015 Rhetorical Redhead All Rights Reserved

The Rogue Ovary Chronicles: A Tale of Two Cysts

Note: This blog post includes a lot of biological/sexual/medical descriptions that may be considered graphic for some readers…this is a post about my lady-anatomy, after all. I do not spare any details; read with caution if you’re prone to discomfort when reading such content.

Monday, August 3rd, 2015 – 8:30 pm

Irony has a funny way of jumping in to my life to yell, “Surprise!” while my pants are still down.

Steve and I just had a lovely round of marital relations and were looking forward to a nice relaxing evening, probably involving a movie and going to bed early. (Don’t squirm–intercourse is kind of a thing that happens in marriage, people. And I include this snippet because it single-handedly initiated the following story.)

I stood upright to go to the bathroom and was greeted by severe cramping in my lower abdomen. Curious, as I have never, ever experienced cramping before (lucky me, I know…sympathies to my not-so-lucky fellow females out there). True, I was due to start my cycle any day now, but this was something quite different than the usual pangs of discomfort.

Cramping was soon accompanied by extreme bloating in my upper abdomen, and the pain only continued to increase as an hour passed by. I lay in bed with a heat pad on my stomach in hopes the cramping would pass. But I found myself sitting on the throne of my misery, cramping at a full roar with my abdomen refusing any form of calm as nausea and fatigue and light-headedness took over.

I couldn’t even call out to Steve, barely getting out, “Babe…something’s wrong…”

He called an advice nurse through our insurance company, who asked me a laundry list of questions and concluded with, “You need to be seen at the ER. Immediately.”

Great.

Steve was a superhero—dashing around the house to pack a small bag of necessities for the hospital as I attempted to confidently leave the bathroom behind without concern of needing it again soon.

This was bad. Let me be clear—I have a high pain tolerance. Like, stupidly high. I know when my body is just dealing with something minor, which is most of the time. But this was unlike anything I’d ever felt, and everything in my body and brain screamed wrong wrong wrong. The pain was so bad I seriously considered telling Steve to drive me to Salem Hospital (which is a desperate move…everyone knows how bad the local hospital is when it comes to ER care…or any care for that matter). The proximity was that tempting. Steve reasoned me out of my insanity, though, reminding me that I would be seen and likely diagnosed at Silverton Hospital in the same amount of time it would take Salem Hospital to simply call me into triage.

Good point. To Silverton…

A Rhetorical Update

An update for you, my dear reader: I know it’s easy to see that #PopUpPoetry takes up a LOT of my time (it does…my IG gallery reflects that blatantly, as does my gap in WordPress posts). But that’s not to say I don’t continue to work on other things. It has actually been very hard to resist posting my more personal pieces as of late–because, firstly, people plagiarize FAR too much on the internet for my liking and I can’t afford to be plagiarized because, secondly, I am saving my work to submit for publication. It’s a slow and arduous…

Hacking (Up a Lung)

HDay 8 – “H” as in Hacking (Up a Lung)

Sounds lovely, doesn’t it? But illness happens to all of us. (Writers aren’t invincible, contrary to popular belief.) The daily grind of poetic progress comes to a daily grinding halt. Be it due to the seasonal cold going around, or the full-blown flu, or food poisoning (I certainly hope not), we can’t be healthy 100% of the time. And when that happens, well…let’s just say it can really be a damper on your creativity, causing some unnecessary frustration.

As I write this, I’m perched atop a bar stool in a local coffeeshop. It’s a sunny spring day and the afternoon couldn’t be more promising. But my head is foggy from days of being suffocated by mucous, my extremities are exhausted from fatigue, I keep sneezing every three minutes, I’m mouth-breathing, my eyes are watering constantly…to any bystander I must look like I’m having a really bad day. But really, I’m just sick. And this is the first day I’ve been well enough to venture out of my house in the last week and attempt some writing. (Apologies if this blog post amounts to nothing but random yammering in the end. I’m unpredictable today! Weee! And this only proves that illness muffs up your writing routine, and you just gotta roll with the punches sometimes. — That was my wonky and weak thesis statement, professor, if you’re reading this…)

The Greats of Poetry

GDay 7 – “G” as in “the Greats of Poetry”

Today’s post is a tribute to the Greats of Poetry. I’d like to take a moment to thank the brilliant men and women who came before us, paving the rough road so that we can have an easier go at it…learning from their failures and successes…studying and understanding the whys as to what made them so “great” in the first place…before attempting to carve our own path of originality on the road less traveled in hopes to create something worthy of standing stacked amongst their vertical names in bookstores for generations to come.

Pop Up Poetry 04.18.2015

Better late than never! I wanted to give you guys another peek into my event this last weekend during our glorious 70-degree sunny weather. 🙂 I set out to perform Pop Up Poetry at two locations on Saturday: first at Broadway Coffeehouse in the late morning/early afternoon, then to Archive Coffee & Bar in the evening. My first time performing a Daily Double, I am merely thrilled that I managed to survive! It was incredibly fun, as always, and I got to meet some wonderful people who were so kind to share their stories with me. Thanks to each of you for giving me a priceless gift time and time again! Hope to see you again soon!

Some Pop Up poems below in order of creation…Hope you enjoy!

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