found poem
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The peasants and their wives,
the whole body bent forward
at each moment of
their long twisted legs.
Ornamented with little design,
She was a freak like me,
that amazon woman-teacher.
My eyes ricochet like pin-balls.
Like a blue-black sky after it’s rained
and rained…
Dear visitor,
The wall is about stories
a larger story still under revision
That story is complicated
The life in him runs under the skin, under my hand, running through the splotches, smelling up into my nose
Darl was different from those others
He knew without words.
Addie Bundren is dead.
Furious tide of despair.
New Hope. 3 mi
This is a found poem from page 261 of Laurie Halse Anderson's 'Wintergirls':
I find silence
In a single shadow
I wake up
I'm dreaming
The flickering shadows
Open my eyes
The tall ferns
Crowding against the trunks of the
Cedars
Flooded with green feathery waves.
Everything is to human scale
and you and I are all choreographers of space,
an eerily ambivalent void.
And yes, we worked in various ways,
destroyed various things,
As they stood together in the same boat:
“I won’t force you,” Ishmael said,
they wondered if that were true at all
I felt glade that I stopped once to ask myself
what joy meant
to remind reason
that it was not home
Igbo Evil (pg 18, 61, 77, 122, 148, 150)
A superstitious pain,
Listen as a mother weeps,
Watch for the wicked child,
Wait for another death,
Feel the bitterness.
Shaped of death,
July 7 1944
My dear beloved child,
I take with me your last image.
"Make her be quiet! She's mad! Shut her up!"
Her little boy stroked her hand.
Never does the swinging stop
Always back and forth
Left to right
I’m treading for my life now,
Believe me.
For years
success is a narrow cage
a ribbon between empty spaces and
things unknown
For years
I am lonely with questions
nothing but bitter tears and
wine stained lips remain
"They gonna drive me. They drivin all our people
I'm an outlaw. Hell, ain't it clear?
Ma Don' worry, Don' worry me"
Ma said, "They might k-they might hurt ya. How'm I..?"
I'm stuck in an ordinary world.
You have no idea
how that frustrates me.
I have grown up
watching Harry Potter and his companions
run all over the place
doing cool things up off the yin-yang
Memories
Time to dance. London
Beckoned songs about sins
Not tragedies.
Written by Mona Lisa
Always money and hurricanes.
Build God and thank God for nails
For breakfast.
