Maudie Bryant

@maudiemichelle.com

811 Followers 916 Following

Poet. Artist. Educator. Mother. Positive Existentialist. Based in Shreveport, Louisiana. EIC of @audilocus.bsky.social http://www.maudiemichelle.com/

A Google Maps street-view image of the Dollar Tree storefront in Blanchard, Louisiana. The image is heavily distorted with a digital glitch filter, creating vibrating, translucent layers of the building and cars in neon cyan, red, and yellow.
A screenshot of the "AR Ammons Finalists" announcement list. The second entry, "Maudie Bryant" and her poem "Anxiety is a House," is highlighted in yellow. A large, surprised "face with open mouth" emoji is layered over the right side of the list, partially covering other titles to emphasize the shock and excitement of the news.
A digital illustration featuring Marshmallow from the animated series Bob’s Burgers dressed as a cowboy, standing next to a large chalkboard. The chalkboard contains the following text in a white, serif font: "I wish for you what you wish for trans people. I wish for you what you wish for immigrants. I wish for you what you wish for the unhoused. I wish for you what you wish for drug addicts. I wish for you what you wish for the mentally ill. I wish for you what you wish for the most vulnerable of our society."
At Hobby Lobby, Choosing an Urn We wandered the aisles, shelves stuffed with containers that promised to hold something beautiful, though none of them knew how heavy ashes could be. My sister pointed to a row, and I ran my fingers over one, a keepsake box smooth as the table where he once played cards, smoke curling around his laugh, but the latch hung, broken. There was no section marked Loss, no aisle labeled Father, so we stood between “Home Decor” and “Seasonal,” unsure if any of this could hold him— or us. I think he would’ve laughed, called it a fool’s errand, but I saw his hands in the wood grain, his smell in the pine. We found a plain, unfinished box— too simple to be perfect, but perfect just the same.
Outdoors in the sunlight, a woman in a floral print blouse beams with pride while holding a dark wood and gold plaque awarded to her as "Poet of the Year" at the 2025 Speak Poetry Fest. Fall-colored leaves and a chain-link fence are visible in the background.
A screenshot from the Spotify mobile app showing a "Your top songs" list, featuring five tracks with their corresponding artists and album art. The ranked list is: Is Anybody Out... by Allie X. On My Way by Grand Yellow. Malachite by Lydia Ainsworth. Living as a Ghost by GEMS. Fireflies - 2023 R... by Still Corners. The bottom of the screen has a button that reads "Share this story." The image is captured on an Android phone, showing the time 10:12 and connectivity icons (5G+, WiFi, battery at 91%).
A full-length view of a painting-in-progress on a long, narrow canvas with a bright mint-green background. A figure wearing a tailored brown jacket, white shirt, and a deep green bow tie stands centered. The head is replaced entirely by an open birdcage. Butterflies are depicted escaping the cage, with two butterflies flying freely above it. The figure’s face is missing, suggesting a focus on constraint and liberation.
Dark, textured background with a single, intact goldfish cracker next to a pile of crushed cracker crumbs. The large white text above reads: "We're past that." Smaller text below credits the poem: "The Last Pick Up" by Maudie Bryant, Published in Mulberry Literary, Issue XI.
Page 12 of Flora Fiction Literary Magazine Volume 6 featuring the poem "Hydrangea" by Maudie Bryant. The poem's title is in an ornate, decorative font over a light blue and green watercolor background, with a decorative border of blue hydrangeas and green leaves at the bottom of the page. The full text of the poem is: I couldn’t remember the flower’s name— it curled away like yours did. The creases around your eyes, once folded in a map of living, fade. Blue, like the bloom, drains into something pale: periwinkle, maybe— a hush of color. Each bulbous cluster offers a secret: bouquets nested in each fruiting sprout, as if the plant keeps giving, even in forgetting. The scent—barely there— sleeps beneath my skin. Petals and leaves, soft as your ghost behind a door, soft as the breeze that cups my cheek— your hand again— shaking the branches until glitter spills from the sky. The poem is followed by a short bio stating: Maudie Bryant is a Pushcart-nominated poet and multidisciplinary artist whose work explores memory, identity, and the quiet disquiet that lingers beneath the surface. She lives in Shreveport, Louisiana, with her husband and two young sons.
The cover of "The Shallot: Journal of mental health, art, and literature." The artwork is an abstract portrait featuring layered brushstrokes of vivid red, deep purple, and bright gold/yellow. A softly defined face is centered in the purple and yellow layers, surrounded by a texture of red, bubbling paint below. The text "The Shallot" and "Vol. 4 No. 2" is visible on the cover.
A close-up photograph of an open book, showcasing a poem titled "On a Morning When Everything Feels Heavy" by Maudie Bryant. The page rests on another copy of the book, Shift: A Journal of Literary Oddities. Poem Text: On a Morning When Everything Feels Heavy by Maudie Bryant The coffee scalds my tongue, bitter as the ache that woke me. I think of my father's hands, how they used to cup my face, how they smelled like cigarettes and sawdust. The world doesn't care if I stay in bed today, but my inbox fills like a sink left running— so I pull on jeans stiff with yesterday's sweat, grab the keys, and pretend the engine's roar isn't just another version of my own.
A black and white visual poem is centered on a line-drawn image of a globe on fire, which is mounted on a small pedestal. The globe has a cross-hatched pattern to suggest lines of longitude and latitude. The poem's text is scattered around the central image in a mix of typewritten and handwritten-style fonts, some words are curved or angled: "southern porch" is at the top center. "the sliding door feels like apple skin" is below that, with "waxy warm, peeling chimes" positioned further down and to the right. "vibrate" is on the left. "hummingbirds," is on the right, above "tasting tasting". "red-capped vessels," is to the right of the burning globe. The phrase "don't mix bleach and ammonia" forms an arc around the bottom half of the globe, with "don't mix" on the left and "and ammonia" on the right. "fertile with sugared water." is at the very bottom. The overall texture of the background suggests crumpled or wrinkled paper.
A black background with white text of a poem titled "Millennium Girl." The poem reads: “A pop song, bath oil beads, butterfly hair-clips, candied dreams— Hope was a dELiAs* catalog, blow-up furniture, wide-legged jeans. Reality, a monthly bleed, essential needs, worn-out tunes, split seams, rent-to-own, hand-me-downs. Molded by what I couldn’t consume.”
A graphic with a maroon background titled “best of the net 2026 nominations by orangepeel.” Three categories are listed: Art: Eloise Arnott, “Why Won’t My Screen Turn On?”; Gabi Diaz, “Always Always Girl.” Nonfiction: Chelsea McMillan, “Online: A List of Failed Tween Ventures.” Poetry: Maudie Bryant, “Millennium Girl”; David Colodney, “The Harder They Come Original Motion Picture Soundtrack”; Katie Grierson, “THE WORLD WANTS US TO SEE EACH OTHER ONE MORE TIME!!!” The names and titles appear in colored boxes on the maroon background.
A hand holds open a book displaying the poem "Schrödinger's Call" by Maudie Bryant, published in Naugatuck River Review. The poem describes receiving a voicemail about a father’s passing, blending the moment of ordinary work tasks with the shattering weight of loss. A white label across the page reads: “New publication in Naugatuck River Review.” Poem Text: Schrödinger’s Call The first, I let ring. Just one more thing, I thought, just one more click before the world cracked open. I was still smoothing out the creases of a new day, the office barely awake— the computer’s hum a soft rhythm, my fingers clicking in time to a task I was sure would be done before the second round of rings. But the second came fast, I let the voicemail unfold in the silence, the words coming slow, like they had to work up the courage. “Call back,” it said, and I knew without knowing that something had shifted— something I’d never recover. I dialed the number with the same fingers that had just typed another email, clicked another box. Then, the words. “Your father passed.” I sat still as if the world had paused with me, as if the space between those words had been stretched so thin that I could feel my father both here and not here at the same time. The task, still waiting, the screen before me suddenly distant, a room I once knew— but didn’t belong in anymore.
A bold protest flyer with a red fist icon and blue checkerboard design. The headline reads: "LUNCH CRASHER – Disrupt the Big Beautiful Lie" in large, impactful text. Subheadings urge people to “Bring Water. Bring Signs. Bring Friends. Bring Dissent.” The event is scheduled for Wednesday, July 30, 2025, from 10:00AM to 1:30PM, with a note that “Mike’s ‘Lunch’ starts at 11:30AM. Let’s be there first!” Protesters are instructed to meet at the Malone Stadium parking lot to walk down to Bayou Pointe. A lower section features a photo collage: Mike Johnson looking uneasy, flanked by edited images of Jeffrey Epstein and Donald Trump. A caption over the images reads: “WHAT ARE THEY HIDING? WHY DID MIKE JOHNSON KEEP THE FILES SEALED?” The event is sponsored by “Mike Johnson’s Constituents Demanding Public Town Halls.”
Screenshot of the Boudin page from The McNeese Review website, featuring the poem "In the Temple Shadows" by Maudie Bryant, published on April 30, 2025. The site header shows links to Home, Boudin, and Current Issue, with the tagline "Poetry - Fiction - Essays."
An abstract painting composed of mosaic-like shapes in vibrant hues of red, purple, teal, and yellow. Organic forms and rounded rectangles flow across the canvas, outlined in warm golden tones, with blue rings creating a dynamic, rippling effect through the center.
A colorful acrylic painting on canvas depicting a figure with blue hair and a tailored suit in shades of magenta and teal. Their face is obscured by a lush arrangement of large teal and magenta flowers with golden centers, blending seamlessly into their features. The background is a textured field of teal and blue geometric patterns, creating a sense of movement and depth. The painting has intricate linework and a surreal, dreamlike quality.
Lunch & Lit Critical Mass 13 Literary Readings Thursday, April 10th, 2025 Caddo Common Park 869 Texas Ave Shreveport, LA Food Trucks On Site
The design features two images: on the left, a close-up of hands in yellow rubber gloves washing a plate in a kitchen sink with soapy water; on the right, an underwater scene with light filtering through, illuminating small rocks and sediment. The title "Residual" is displayed in large, elegant serif font at the bottom, with "Apricity Magazine, 2025" written in smaller text below. The background has a textured, earthy tone.