Community Poetry Project, oh my!

For my project I wanted to basically write all over town, but not in an I-might-get-arrested kind of way so I figured side-walk chalk was the best bet. So on my journey to complete this project, I went and bought a forty pack of coloured-side walk chalk and I drove around town trying to find a place that I thought would have a lot of people to see it, but where I wouldn't be approached and told to stop, or asked what I was doing, blah, blah, blah. The place I ended up at was Kidston, an elementary school right here in Vernon, because what kind of child doesn't need a little Poe in their life? Am I right? Of course I am. There's a bunch of the cement divider things, and that's right where the kids get off the buses in the morning so I though they might see it there. I went for a Sunday so there would be less time for the rain to come in and ruin my poetry quotes.
Here are some exclusive images of my poetry-ing adventures!!

My boyfriend helped out by drawing little pictures to make it look a little more interesting. I also wouldn't recommend buying $1 chalk because it snapped every time I tried to use it. But all in all I think it was pretty successful, as there were a bunch of people that saw my chalk as they ran by, drove by, walked by, and looked across the street from their house at all the pretty poems I'd written out for their enjoyment! And I'm sure more people saw after we'd left as well, Maybe not that many though because it was starting to get a little stormy and so the chalk may have been washed away. As my little couplet in the last photo suggests!

Wow, it's over

I can't believe my last semester at the college is coming to an end. And though I don't think I'll miss the homework or the hair-falling-out-stress, I will miss fun classes like this one!

But I'm extremely excited to move on in my life, and do grown-up things like move out of my parents house and start paying rent, and bills and all that new hair-falling-out-stress. I can't express enough how done I am with having homework, I don't think anyone could dis-agree with me.

Now with my newly available time, I can do things like crochet even more! (maybe an etsy shop in the future??? I'd like to think so) and work on my writing and maybe all sorts of other artsy type things that I love.

But anyways, this seems to be more of a fare-well post instead of a poetry related post, so I guess I should try and work something poetry ish in here somewhere. Here it goes:

Note books, pencils
pens, sticky notes,
folder, papers
text books, flash-cards,
tests, and projects
take them all
throw them over a cliff
breathe
you are free

what is poetry tho?

According to the internet this is what came up first when I googled it. There you have it.
In Lindsey's post she talked about how April is poetry month, so I looked it up, and indeed it is.

I found this website that talks a little more about it if anyone is interested:http://www.poets.org/national-poetry-month/home

Just a reminder that we're almost done the semester!

Look What I Did This Weekend!!

The Purple Poetry Box!!

My boyfriend and I drove around town this weekend until we found this little poetry box!! I think it's a fine achievement and we wrote some lyrics to a song, and I bet you can't guess which of us wrote which line in the notebook! Ta Da!!

Since I didn't share in-class

We did a writing exercise the other day and it was called "throw-away poem" and Kevin commented that my list was very long, and just to clarify I did a bit of spring cleaning the other day, so I don't have all these things anymore.
My list is titled "Guilt Hoarder" because all the things I list are things that were given to me that I don't want anymore, but I feel bad throwing away things that people gave me thinking I'd really like. I think I've always had this problem, also I'm seriously sentimental, and I like the little memories that come along with some of these items. Here it goes:

That scarf I got for Christmas two years ago, I never wear scarves anyway.
A movie ticket for almost every movie I've been to since moving to Vernon.
Old nail polish bottles, almost completely full, but unfortunate colours.
Worn, old shoes, with a mustard stain from camping. Or was it ketchup.
A winter jacket that no longer fits.
A shoe box filled with junk.
A karaoke machine.
The receipt for my drivers test.
A script for a play I was in, in the 7th grade.
My student ID cards from Junior High and High-school.
A kite I made in 8th grade.
Costume jewellery I haven't worn for years.
Token from Chuck E. Cheese.
Writing on my white-board that's been there for two or three years.
The box my polaroid-camera came in.

Just a little more...

With the year coming to an end I find that I can't think of anything except that it's almost over, and so is my two-year Writing and Publishing program. With that in mind, the only poems I want to write have to do with summer.
I wrote this one while it was sunny out and all I wanted to do was jump in the lake!

It's called "A Gradient of Deliciousness"
I see
green,
blue,
aqua,
turquoise,
any shade that you can imagine,
no wonder they call it
"lake of many colours"


My inspiration for this little poem was half the slurpee I was drinking and half Kalamalka lake, because both had the same shades and both were summer related and both are cool. I think it needs a lot of work to be not so obvious about what I'm talking about, and it's too short, etc, etc. But I still kinda like it.

Spring Fever

Lately it's been sunny out and all I can think of is summer, and no school and going to the beach and being free. Just for a little while anyway. I really want warm sunny, blue-sky weather and it's so stuck in my head that I'm going to write a poem about it.
It's called "Everything Blue"

Sky,
lake-water,
camera-case,
his eyes,
my phone
and me.
When my fingertips
touch the
water
touch the
sky
I feel the
blue leech
away.



It's shorter and more to the point than I'd like, but then again it is just a draft. Let me know what anyone thinks!

blert

So the next reading we had to do was a book called blert. I actually kind of liked the poems in this book because they seemed to be part narrative, part poetry and part nonsense, I thought they were more fun to read and my favourite one was on page 44, and I liked that it started with snow so it was something I could picture, but then it moved on to poetry-like non-sense which I kind of like because it sounds beautiful yet I have no idea what I'm supposed to be getting from it.

I don't know, these poems don't make me mad like the other ones have, but at the same time they aren't my favourite ones. They're somewhere in between and I think that they're interesting. I think my favourite thing about this book, is that the first page is covered in text talking about bums, in the shape of a bum. What a magical way to start a book, do you know what I mean? What universally makes people smile more that talking about bums, am I right? I am.

So I'm going to try and replicate the feel I guess that I get from these poems by writing one of my own, if you know what I'm saying. I kind of want to go for the same, concrete, mixed with what the hell, with a little bit of nice vocabulary. My poem won't have a title because as far as I can tell, there doesn't seem to be a title for any of these poems, unless I just didn't see or something. I don't know.

Here is my poem:

feetefeetsiefeetsiefeetsi
feetsefeetsiefeetsiefeetsi
feetiesefeetsiefeetsiefeetsi
footfeettoeefeetsiefeetsiefee
feetsfeetiesfootfeettoeefeetsi
feetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsefeetsi
feetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfefeetsi
eettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeettoefeetsi
etiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeeties
footfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeeet
ettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfe
etiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeetto
efeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfee          ofeetsfeeti
esfootfeettoeotfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeets
feetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeesfoo
etsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeesfootfe
ettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfee
ttoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesf
  oefeetsfeetiesfootfeettoefeetsf                                  tiesfootfeettoefeetsfeetiesf
   footfeettoefeetsfeetihdnd                                                 etiesfootfeetto
     feetiesfootfeettoe


I tried to copy the bum thing on the first page, by writing about feet, and repeated the same word over again, and still using them to create a shape on the page. I don't think I like it at all, because it just is stupid. Let me know what you guys think?

I don't know either

I wrote a poem and it isn't inspired by any of the readings or in-class exercises, I don't know where it came from or why and I just felt like sharing it. Let me know what you think?

"Is it Hard to Dig?"
Do you still remember my name?
Do you hear my dead heart beating?
Do you drink to forget the taste of my lips?
Do you burn our pictures because my face is burned into your eyelids?
Do you try to forget me?
Do you succeed?
Do you feel better now?
Do you have what you wanted so badly?
Do you remember how cold I was?
I'll be cold forever,
now.

I'm not gonna tell you what it's about or what I pictured when I wrote it because I want to see if what I was getting at came across clearly or if you have no idea.

Kevin drives like a maniac on his way to poetry readings.

So the other night we went to a poetry reading, and it was my first time being in the Vertigo Voices building because all last year I had work every night that there was a reading. I wasn't sure what to expect because I usually find reading poetry to be boring unless I find the poem particularly nice and interesting to read. I think it's entirely different when you have someone read their own poems especially when that person isn't shy and has no stage fright. And it also helps that that person is funny and calls out things from their own work and doesn't seem to be embarrassed (or is just good at hiding it). Anyways, I actually really enjoyed going to this reading, and I was inspired by the performer to write more of my own, although fiction instead of poetry (sorry Kevin). I think I actually would have bought one of her books if I'd brought money, and that's saying something because I never buy poetry books, unless they're required in the syllabus. I can't think of many specific things to say because it's been a few days since we went, but I do know that I thought it was fun and not boring and I liked her explanations for why she wrote certain things. And I think the most useful thing to me was what she said about working with her editors and how they worked with her instead of telling her what to write and what to change. I actually want to be a writer, and I've been waiting until I'm finished at the college before I do the final edit of some of my manuscripts before I try and get them published because I wanna see what I can learn to make them better and I was worried that they'd make me change my stories completely. And I know what everyone is going to say "there's no money in writing" and my answer is that I'm not doing it for money I'm doing it because I like my stories and I want to share them and see if other people like them too. And if I make money, then that's great, if I don't then I'll be happy as long as one person likes what I've written. I can't even explain how much this reader inspired me to write more, especially the 1000 words a days for a month idea. I think I'll try something like that but maybe not 1000 a day. I have too much homework right now. But back to the main point, I really enjoyed the reading and I'd like to read more of her work.

Another Random Poem

This poem was inspired by a writing exercise that we did in class. The exercise that we did was kind of based on the "2500 Things About Me Too" crossed with truth or dare questions. So I wrote this one and I like where it's going so far, and I was wondering what you guys think of it!
It's called "Every Memory With You is a Good One" and here it goes:

Do you remember the first time you reached for my hand?
Don't leave me alone when I meet your family.
Have I given you butterflies recently?
Go swimming with me, I won't let your head go under.
Do you wanna dance with me around the kitchen while we let supper burn?
Stare at the stars with me in the bed of your truck.
Do you remember when we went camping and we couldn't find a camp ground so we set up the tent in your back-yard?
Make popcorn with me and have a movie marathon all night even though you'll be out before the first movie is even done.
Can we get lost on a drive again, with a Blink 182 CD playing, and the sunshine melting our slurpees?
Let me paint sunsets with you as my canvas.
Do you want to build a fort in the living room?
Sing to me when you're happy, and insist that I dance with you.
Can we buy more bubble bath?
Let me pick a movie to watch and let me nap on you instead of watching it.
Can we go play mini golf again, even though you always win?
Surprise me with a picnic for my birthday.
Are you excited to go home?
Let's go home.


There wasn't really a set number of lines that I went for, I just went with whatever felt right. I hope you guys like it!

What was it called again?

So I read, or rather, flipped through "Disclosure" and I have to say I agree with the comment in the back of the book that says "I didn't get it... it was just 10 pages of her awards, her bills, and her drivers lisence..  maybe I missed something... but I don't think I did.. Strange" because that's exactly how I felt when reading this stupid book.
 I don't find it interesting reading someone's personal documents, and I think it's a stupid idea to put that kind of information out into the world. I definitely don't see how this could possibly be considered poetry. It's documents. The author didn't even write it. It's all photo-copied. I'm actually mad to have spent money on this when I have no intention of reading it ever again, not that I really did the first time.
 What I usually do after a reading, is write a poem inspired by it. But I'm not going to post photo-copies of my personal documents because that's idiotic. I don't even know what to do here. You know what, I am going to write a poem based off of this reading, and it's going to be just as boring and pointless as the book. It's called "The More You Know" and it goes like this:

DOB: April 14, 1995
Eye colour: Green
Hair colour: Brown
Gender: Female
Identifying Marks: piercings, tattoos, birthmarks
Height: I don't even know how tall I am
Age: 19


I bet that was just as fun-filled as the book! Wow, pointless information that nobody cares about! I'm sorry, but I just can't stand this book being called art and being published and people actually paying money for this. I really can't find anything I like about it. Maybe the cover? But even that's annoying because there's no title or anything and so the only way to tell which side is the front without opening it is the fact that there's a bar code on the back. I think this is my least favourite reading because it's so boring.

Maybe Another??

I feel like writing another poem, and I've been crocheting a lot lately so that's my inspiration since I wanna do that instead of all my homework. Anyways, here it is

It starts with a ball of soft yarn

it starts with a hook

and a pattern

The yarn slides through my fingers

the hook wraps and pulls

and a ball rolls across the floor

It's about creating

it's about relaxation

and yarn

There's so many hooks

there's so many colours

and I can't choose

I kind of have a pattern going, but it's not really to with rhyme as it is to do with structure, but I'm sure that's obvious. Once again, I didn't really get at what I was trying to do, but I still kinda like it. 

Poems, I Promise!

So I read through my posts from last week and I realised that I didn't really write any poetry despite finding so much to do with my name and birthday. I wanted to write something to do with the stuff I posted, but everything I came up with sounded like flarf, and I thought that it was kinda of boring, like I was making a joke that nobody would laugh at. I know that kinda contradicts itself, but it makes sense in my head. I decided to do something about what people might notice about me when they first meet me. I came up with lines mostly to do with appearance, but I still like what I've got so far! So this is my first draft, here it goes!


Green eyes
Brown hair
Skin pale like white skies

Freckled skin
Ears Pierced
Fingers short but thin

Polaroid prints
Music everywhere
Ink on my skin

Books stacked
Posters hung
Bookshelf space is lacked

Notebooks piled
I think I smiled


So this is what I've come up with, I think I like where I'm going, but I still feel like it's missing something or needs words to change, or more, or less. I don't know.

It's All About Me This Week

So I looked up Historical things that happened when I was born and I found this website: http://takemeback.to/14-April-1995#.VONfXPnF-UU
And according to this website, Burl Ives died on my birthday, which is sad, I listen to his music at Christmas. Also, the number 1 song in the US was Madonna's "Take A Bow." Which I've never heard. When I was growing up, I read Goosebumps all the time, and it's weird because one of my favourites "It Came From Beneath The Sink" came out the week of my birthday.


I don't know what it is about these books, but I was obsessed. My birthday is also the anniversary of the Titanic striking the iceberg, which was on April 14th, 1912. Which I actually already knew about. There's also a Wikipedia page for April 14th, but it is so dumb, I don't even know why they need a page that literally says it's the 121th day of the year or something. Really, it does. And that's all. Anyways, enough about me already.

It's Not You, It's Me

After doing my post on "25 Things About Me" I decided to share more about myself, also inspired by Kevin's birthday idea thing. So one of Kevin's ideas was to google my name and write a poem about what shows up. I really liked what came up. According to urban dictionary, this is what I am:

Raeanne

A sexy bitch who is not only an amazing friend, but pretty much the most amazing girl ever! Raeannes are often vertically challenged (short) but make up for what they lack in height in personality and spunk! These girls are some of the greatest ones to get to know, so do it! 
Raeannes typically have very nice bods, and are pretty much just gorgeous.

"Did you see that one new girl walking down the hall that looks absolutely perfect in every way?" 
"Psh, she must be a Raeanne."

Not gonna lie, this made me pretty happy. I was really not expecting to find anything like this, because usually when people google themselves it just comes up with random things about people who have the same name as them. Anyways, the first image to come up for my name is... 

Literally me. 

lol That is just fantastic. This picture is a few years old, but I remember taking it at my friend's house. Anyways, that's all for now!

Out For a Rip, And Stereotypes

So the other day in class everyone was saying how they hate cliches and it made me think of stereotypes too, and then it made me think of this video. I love it by the way, I hope you guys do too!

I always laugh when I read the comments too, because they're so dumb, people really care if you make fun of them using stereotypes. But anyways, I was gonna write a poem using only cliches and call it like 'Awful in Ink' or something stupid, but I think this video is enough for you guys to get the idea.

25 Things About Me, Not You

I started looking at the book 2500 Random Things About Me Too, by Matias Viegener. I actually liked this book because I like finding about the little facts about people. I feel like I know more about them from that than I would if they wrote me an essay about them self. So the title of this post is obviously not the same as the title of the book because I was planning on doing a little poem inspired by this book, but I didn't wanna write 2500 things, so I settled for 25 because it still kind of plays on the same idea. So anyways, here's 25 random things about me.

1. I don't drink apple juice very often because it reminds me of pee.
2. My parents hate popcorn flavouring so I add it to popcorn when I don't want to share.
3. I really like boxes, they make me feel like I have everything together which helps ease my anxiety.
4. I really like reading, but usually only if it's fiction.
5. I can remember song lyrics from fourth grade but I don't remember what I had for supper the day before yesterday.
6. I think music boxes are rad. 
7. I have a massive movies collection (the horror section itself is over 100 DVDs), and I still have a list of ones I don't have that I want to get.
8. When I was little, I collected ty beanie babies, and I still have them all in boxes in the basement.
9. I think corn mazes are super duper.
10. My boyfriend says I have an obsession with Zelda.
11. I just remembered Robbin Williams named his daughter Zelda because he liked the games so much.
12. I'm learning to crochet, and I just finished my first blanket.
13. I also made a little crocheted Baymax from the movie "Big Hero Six."
14. I have eleven piercings. 
15. I have one tattoo.
16. I'm learning to draw really realistic portraits of animals and people. 
17. I'm learning to play guitar and my fingers are sore.
18. I'm very sentimental. 
19. I have the piece of paper my parents used when they were writing out ideas for naming me.
20. Christmas is my favourite holiday because it's the only time of year that everybody in my house is happy all at once for an extended period of time.
21. My Mom has the coolest Christmas village she puts up every year.
22. I like car rides, and road trips. 
23. I climbed trees a lot when I was younger and I tied a skipping rope to a branch and tried to climb the tree by holding on to the rope and putting my feet against the tree trunk and everything was going well until the rope snapped. It's still there because I couldn't get it untied.
24. I have four brothers, and one sister, and they're all older than me.
25. When I was in sixth grade I was really good at double dutch rope jumping and started a trend at my school, and the year after I left they had actual teams that went to tournaments.

So there, I wrote a poem inspired by the book, and I think it's good, I laughed while writing it. I think I had the most fun writing this poem than any of the other ones. I hope you guys like it. 

Finding Inspiration or Not?!

I went to see a movie in theatres the other day called "Project Almanac" and without ruining it for anybody, it's about time travel. I feel like if I say anything else, I'll ruin the plot line, but I did really like it, so I guess see it... or not? Anyways, I was thinking about trying to write some kind of time travel poem or something like maybe one sentence, like one of those six word poems or something. I don't know really, I just wanna try and find something to write about. I'll try at least. See I have this idea where I wanna write a sentence that can be read backwards and forwards and make sense like that, I'm not really sure how to phrase it so it makes sense, which is why it's so hard to write the poem itself because I can't even explain what it is that I want to do. And I'm pretty sure what I've written so far doesn't make much sense either. Here it goes:

Enter a room. Open the door so we can

I'm trying to make it so that it can be read over and over to make more sense than if it was only read once through. I don't think I'm really getting what I'm trying to make. Maybe it's too short? Or I'm just awful at poetry. I just don't have the knack.

Second attempt? Maybe something longer?

Today I picked up the broken glass,
tomorrow I break the glass,
yesterday I sweep up the glass.
Today I use bread to pick up tiny shards too small to see,
tomorrow I cut my foot yesterday.
Yesterday the glass is glued together with tiny pieces missing.
Today is yesterday is tomorrow is never.
When are we?

I don't know if this one is closer to what I'm trying to get at but I do think I like it better than my first one. Maybe because it's longer? Or it has more of the feel I was going for? I don't know, but I think I'm getting closer at least.

Looking for Inspiration

So I'm not very good at writing poetry. I can never find the words that really encompass what I'm trying to say so my poems always end up sort of generic and boring. It's really frustrating to me because I try really hard to make something that has that hook that every single other person seems to have. So I decided to look up 'tips on poetry' or something like that to see if I could learn anything or at least have a little fun.

The first thing to come up was legitimate instructions, and they go like this:

1. Here are 5 ways how to write poetry:

   1. Capture a moment. One trap I can sometimes fall into is that I try to write the big poem or the poem filled with ideas (like love, hate, etc.). ...
   2. Steal a conversation. ...
   3. Describe something or someone. ...
   4. Respond to something. ...
   5. Use someone else's line.

So I don't know what I was expecting but I was hoping for something a little funnier? I guess. I don't really find these tips all that helpful, but then again I didn't really expect to find some kind of formula. I guess it must be something a person either has or doesn't have, so I don't really think there's anything I can do except keep writing until it doesn't look like something out of a factory.

This is Flarf!

I decided to try out flarfing. How I came up with this 'poem' is that I typed the words "Synergy, correct, individual, perhaps, rain, frequent" into Google, and the rest is right here to feast your eyes one and devour.

 Synergistic effects of seasonal rainfall, parasites and demography on fluctuations in springbok body condition ... For ruminants, individual body condition varies cyclically with ..... For comparison, we repeated the model of adult female body .... 1988), perhaps providing a greater range of forage options for ...

$160 (save $35 over individual Synergy Essence prices) ... Coast Spring Water, Hawaiian Rain Water, Pacific Ocean Water or a combination of each. ... relationship with them with vary but there is a common thread joining them all together. ... than others on this earth plane (perhaps cause their spiritual practices or beliefs).called “spring creep,” is often ascribed to climate change.4 Perhapsunsurprisingly, 

spring creep affects individual species differently. It is a boon to some ...... 

environment, and a similar analysis would likely be appropriate before any major 
 sheets or the drying of the Amazon rain forest.96. Like climate ...
We know very well that a middle culture person with difficulty remembers some ... to solve their problems, organise their learning and give them the correct answer. .... many little events have a synergistic effect and cause disrupting consequences? ... Oftenafter raining, near a car street I observed a puddle with a coloured ...line in order to isolate the individual roles of radiation (RA-. DIATION) ... 
MICRO and SYNERGY is to weaken the squall line. 1 Introduction.
Thus, SUMO acts synergistically on several proteins, and individual ..... serve a common purpose and are pesynchronously triggered.
Perhaps deliberation has educative effects or contributes to individual self-development ... problems, groups often do not correct but instead amplify individualerrors; emphasize ..... earnings of firms; changes in the American economy; and annual peek rainfall runoff in eight different .... Beyond the sum of the parts: synergy.
Background: Common property studies at Loma Alta, Ecuador ... Meeting the desires of individuals while sustaining ecological “public ..... Farmers traditionally leave forest surrounding the hat fiber to “attract rain,” TEK related to the fact ... Perhaps there were no local direct experiences indicating the costs to ...


CASE DESCRIPTION When Porter Raulston, the CEO of Rain Dance ... Synergy is when the whole is greater than the sum of the individual parts. ... The case further illustrated the need for conducting proper due diligence and having a ... the plan and why planning seems to often take priority over day-to-day activities.
 The words in English I'd heard just bothered me that they weren't a grammatical sentence, so I wanted to fix tht. ... Come, walk in rain with me, come, sing a song with me, ..... with individual and unique perspectives and skills frequentlyexceeds ... (Applause from audience, perhaps a couple of tomatoes.) ...

What is Flarf?

My post title is "what is flarf?" So I looked it up, and here's an interesting link on info about what it is and how to do it. Check it out if you please!
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/brief-guide-flarf-poetry
according to this website, which is in fact a how-to, it's " A quality of intentional or unintentional “flarfiness.” A kind of corrosive, cute, or cloying, awfulness. Wrong. Un-P.C. Out of control. “Not okay.”"

I think I agree with the "out of control" and "not okay" bit especially when applying them to Annoying Diabetic Bitch. I didn't really find any poems that made me think or feel anything positive. The only thing I really felt was pain that I had to read this, and I couldn't put it down and never pick it back up again. I'm sorry if this is harsh Kevin, but I think it's awful and I wouldn't read it if I had a choice.
I started reading some of the 'poems' from Sharon Mesmer's Annoying Diabetic Bitch, and I found it hard to read them seriously because I don't really see it as art or talent to just take random words and in this case, make something offensive. Okay, so maybe flarf can come out with something that is good and pleasant and more than just offensive strings of words thrown haphazardly into a book. Overall I found it to be a painful read, and I don't think flarf has to be that way. I'm sure I can come up with something less offensive.

Jen Currin, The Ends

Jen Currin's chap book type thing had a few different types of poemings in it and the one that stuck in my mind the stickiest was the poem called: "On Peace Street" and it goes like this:

"It started snowing. I wanted to pour us glasses of wine and go out into the snow, to feel it melt on our faces. The first snow of the year. I told you I didn't think the military should exist and kissed you. You said you couldn't think of anyone but him. The snow was wet; it slipped off windshields and slushed the stairs. A city of bolted kale glowed whitely in the front yard. The black cats from upstairs slipped past our legs. The moon was falling slowly. You looked away and I lifted my glass."

I found this poem attracted my attention because it contrasted happy and sad images in my mind, There's one part where it says "I...kissed you. You said you couldn't think of anyone but him." And that makes me think that they were out having fun in the snow and one person expressed their feelings that the other basically said that they wanted someone else. And then the poem goes on to describe more scenery. I just find it interesting that it can be so disinterested in the emotions that it was describing and continue on in the poem as if nothing had been said other than talk about snow.

So I've written a poem trying to get at the same idea as this poet did,

We watched a movie, and I wanted more popcorn but the cupboard was empty. The movie was a blur of animation and music. All I could think of was the pretty girl you smiled at earlier. You smile at me and drink some pop. You tell me stories of your chidhood and I smile when the time is right. I can't escape the pit. But I forget and we become quiet and the movie becomes loud and the night outside is dark and the room is aglow from the tv and all I can think of is popcorn.

It's just a draft so far.

My Life By Lyn Hejinian

"All that is nearly incommunicable to my friends. Velocity and throat verisimilitude. Were we seeing a pattern or merely an appearance of small white sailboats on the bay, floating at such a distance from the hill that they appeared to be making no progress. And for once to a country that did not speak another language." 

An excerpt from My Life by Lyn Hejinian. 

I find that this type of structure for a poem is hard to read, as it was really easy for me to lose my place. Not just because of how long the lines were, or the fact that it was block quote style but because there was no connection for me between each sentence. However, I did like how clearly I could picture most of the things she was saying as there was a lot of imagery in the sentences, but that was taken away from every time a new image was forced into my head with each new sentence. I feel like I got whip-lash from reading this poem because I was being pulled in so many directions. I still feel like there's something that does make it narrative, I just can't tell what it is. It seemed to me like reading a shopping list, because all the items are separate from each other but there is one common thing that links them all together even if it is not obvious at the beginning what that might be. 

Here's a poem I've written that tries to encompass some of the feelings I got from reading My Life.  It's a rough draft.

In my living room there is a white pot with grass sticking up from all angles. It's been filled with dirt, as if to encourage the little plant to continue to live. I had a bagel for breakfast, it reminds me of camping and drunk hammocks. And of course Christmas time, with a damaged box and a gift for us both. My hands feel like ice, and are white like the snow. I have a surprise for you, gourmet jelly beans. Yes they're a real thing. Yes I know you like them, that's why they're for you. Your Mom is so electronically challenged that we can't go skating until she learns how to use a tv. So I wait to skate. No matter what I do, I'm always cold. When I was little, my Mom took me sledding, and when we went down the biggest hill she screamed and we never went sledding together again. We have pictures. I don't understand how it can be so grey outside and still blind me so much that my brain aches. It's like a cruel joke. I just want raspberries and frozen yoghurt. 

When I was writing my poem, I  tried to go for the same random list of thoughts that Lyn did, but I wanted mine to have more of a narrative feel so it's easier to see how they're connected. I'm not sure if I achieved what I was going for, but then again, it's just a draft. 

I made a blog, look at me go!

I'm gonna post poems and other such things here to express my inner soul fire thingy or something of that kind. I hope you guys enjoy my ramblings and don't cry as if they're onions.