I found this

[qimissung]

Here's a found poem I wrote. The text I quote is from a postcard that a friend sent to me. I added a few words.


tomorrow
the weather
is supposed to be nicer
it's rained lots
but still it's nice to be here
the rocks, the beach, the place
where we began
I bought a lyre harp
I touch it's strings lightly
we're hoping for stars later

qimissung
December 20, 2013

[Lykren]

I very much enjoyed the alliteration of 'lightly' and 'later'. On a more pedantic note, that should be 'its strings', not 'it's strings'.

The last line is also fantastic as a whole.

[Hawkman]

I think it works quite well. Which words did you add, I wonder?

Live and be well - H

[Jack of Hearts]

This stuff is cool. Nice found poem.




J

[osho]

I enjoyed your poem. This is simple yet profound in meaning. I do not want poems to be verbose. Let it startle us and transport us to a different reality and this poem has done that and I read it repeatedly.

[qimissung]

Thanks, guys. I didn't add that much actually. I really just changed the perspective and the mood so that it went from a recounting of a family weekend to one more personal and intimate. That beautiful last line is my friend's also.

[AuntShecky]

The most famous postcard in the world reads: "The weather is here. Wish you were beautiful." Jimmy Buffett quotes it in one of his songs, but I'm not certain the line originated with him.

[Buh4Bee]

Great relaxed expression!

[Jerrybaldy]

You should post poetry more often. We wish you were here.

[qimissung]

Thanks, Jerry. You all are beautiful.

[ShadowFire]

Long time no talk. I like this very much. I like how in the last line you bring in the word "we" but never truly specify the other person (or thing) besides yourself. It adds another dimension that allows interpretation from the reader. Thank you for sharing.

[qimissung]

Thank you, Shadowfire! It's good to see you around. Yes, I do like to allude.I like things to have a sense of mystery.

[Haunted]

It's so nice that you shared this, and just a pleasure in itself that you are posting something. The whole thing is very sweet, and the part about harp brought to mind an iPhone app. When you pull the strings, music plays and stars start falling from the strings. No waiting!

[angliholic]

Very true to life ink
and very natural as well as beautiful

[munkinhead]

I love the found ones.
They leave secret messages
that only you can read.
Prefer them to the bound ones,
the ones that can't be freed.
Can't use the squarely sound ones
the round ones fill my needs.

[qimissung]

Hi Haunted! Long time no talk. Thanks to you and angliholic and to you, Munkinhead for weighing in.

[qimissung]

So here's another one. I thought I might, might do these occasionally this year. It seemed like a good idea when I had it.The intent is to do them based on books I'm reading or have read fairly recently, within the last year anyway. No need to hold me to it, though. But this one is based on an obit of Clive Backster I read in the New York Times Magazine, page 14, December 29, 2013 issue. What did I write? Lines 1, 3, 4,5 of stanza 1; the second stanza; and the first three lines of the last stanza.

Dracena Fragrens

Is feeling first?
Is it a truth serum?
Or a lie detector?
If you place your hands on me
Here and here
Can you detect the truth of my being?

Sunlight falls
On my dracaena fragrens
Whose leaves in the light from the pane
Begin to curl and blacken

Such harmful stimuli
No one can reproduce.
The fundamental attachment between
All living things
Is a post-hoc qualifier

The sun moves to one side
Allowing the healing shadow
To creep forth;
My faith doesn’t waver;
Such high resistance
To new ideas
Does not concern me.

Qimissung
December 2013

[qimissung]

A maytree white with blossom
Four great grey standing stones
on a green headland over the sea
the empty-eyed grinning white skull of a horse
lightning strikes the towering beech tree
a man with the head of a stag
and the utter despair
of the quest coming to an end
before it even began
and a keening cacophony of evil and dark

You will be frightened, but never fear it

The fallen arm of the tree bursts into flame
every inch blazing with licking yellow fire
the flame-edged way stretches into
the distance like some noble road of the sun
bow down
watch the flames leap
curve inward
go out

found poem
Source-The Dark is Rising by Susan Cooper

[miyako73]

Quimi, if the source of a found poem is a published novel, is it plagiarism? I want to try it, but I'm a little bit paranoid.

[qimissung]

No,it isn't plagiarism, miyako-but you certainly need to cite your source!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Found_poetry

[Lykren]

FYI, Qimi, I am enjoying these. Please continue.

[qimissung]

Thanks, Lykren. Coming from a wordsmith such as yourself makes me feel good.

[Jerrybaldy]

Feels and sounds epic, qim. And dark. So sign me up :)

[qimissung]

There are woods, Jerry, and they are lovely, dark and deep. It will be fun. Thanks for reading.

[qimissung]

From A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki

Sado, maso, same thing

I went to the silent frozen place
in my mind that was clean and cold
and very far away
I realized I didn’t want to end up being
One of those girls who the police
Find on the floor days later
I stood up and caught sight
Of the naked girl in the mirrored room,
Endlessly reflecting, her body
Raw-looking, gawky, awkward
I hugged myself and the girl did too
I started to cry and we couldn’t stop

What does separation look like?
A wall? A wave? A body of water?
A ripple of light or a shimmer
Of subatomic particles, parting?
Fingers push against the rag surface
Of the dream, recognize the
Tenacity of filament and know
That it’s paper, about to tear
But the fibrous memory still lingers,
Holding itself upright and altogether
Like a dream, it remembers its sap

Found Poem
Qimissung
February 2014

[qimissung]

Found Poem from Where’d You Go, Bernadette
By Maria Semple

The sky so low it feels as though
God has lowered a parachute over me
Every feeling I ever knew was up in that sky
Twinkling joyous sunlight
Airy, giggling cloud wisps
Blinding columns of sun
Orbs of gold, pink, flesh,
A Disneyland luminosity

Gigantic puffy clouds,
Welcoming, forgiving,
Repeating infinitely across the horizon
As if between mirrors
And slices of rain,
Pounding wet misery
In the distance now,
But soon on us
And in another part of the sky
A black stain, rainless
I don’t move, I don’t breathe
I just stare and believe

Qimissung
March 24, 2014

This is mostly as I found it in the book. I just added another line from a different passage, and one that is original.