Category Archives: Change

This just in…news flash

In          In           Flu          End        Us

 

Plan       Et           Sur          Vives

 

Just       This

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btw

april 16 2020

café 7

st-prex

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as a haiku-ist, this appealed to me… this is art, innit!

i was inspired by

….Aram Saroyan’s Electric Poems, first published in 1972. Saroyan is known for his minimalist poetry. Often, his poems consist of re-mixed/chopped versions of a single word. In fact, one of his most famous one-word poems engendered some controversy in the U.S. Congress!

 

and so I didn’t to this….

 

Day 16:- Rather than encouraging minimalism, today we challenge you to write a poem of over-the-top compliments. Pick a person, place, or thing you love, and praise it in the most effusive way you can. Go for broke with metaphors, similes, and more. Need a little inspiration? Perhaps you’ll find it in the lyrics of Cole Porter’s “You’re The Top.” (Scroll down at the link for the lyrics and an annotated explanation of them).

http://www.napowrimo.net

Glopowrimo / Napowrimo 2020

 

 

 

School Feeding Pts 1 & 2- un-formatted

SCHOOL FEEDING pt 1

England

 

The bell’s gone. We are wide-mouthed frogs, riveted like cracked open birds waiting for worms.

 

Stand in line. Wait your turn.

 

line

line

line

line

 

A boy’s socks fall down while standing upright.  It’s my itchy thick tights that go south. My mouth waters. We inch forward.

forward

forward

 

Will there be custard? Mysterious pudding lurks beneath. Make no sudden moves.

 

Being served from the hatch where the dinner ladies skulk takes its toll. More than one child this term has lost control of a bladder.

 

You wonder, will there be bread rolls today or squishy buttered Wonderloaf. Bread’s the best bit.

 

I hate gravy i hate gravy i hate gravy i hate gravy i hate gravy. Lumpy

 

Big boys pull my pigtails. They pick their own scabs and eat them. Big boys laughs. What does this mean?

mean

mean

mean

 

Hunger is constant, factually. Something pure in the strange world of the dinner hall. I am very small.

small

small

small

small

 

 

SCHOOL FEEDING pt 2

Australia

 

Change of continents entails change of lunch habits. It’s not even called dinner here.

 

Crack open a window, Let the heat out, matey. It won’t go. Lumpy

 

Hey you, pinkie, say sommat. ( pause for laughter) Are ya Pommie or sommat? Ya gotta be kiddin’.

 

Drones on. The teacher. The flies. The booming swells of air that’re as solid as the sweaty upper lips and arm pits of kids.

 

It’s clear I only remember summer dinners. They were perhaps the hottest. 1976 was the longest.

long

long

long

long

 

I’m shameless in my envy. Clots to the colour of thick meaty gravy.

 

How we stay friends when she gets her name scrawled on a greasy paper-bagged tuck-shop order, I’ll always wonder. She sinks her tiny teeth in. I get none. Hoarder

 

i must not swear. i must not swear i must not swear i must now swear

sook

sook

sook

pom

pom

pom

 

The smells of Balfour’s piespastiessausagerolls wafts in form the corridor. Enters the stifling classroom, bows, lift up out of the crates, breaks my heart, makes me levitate.

 

My package of sandwiches (fritz and sauce), sits limp, squashed, tepid at the bottom of my school bag. I hunt them out with foetid fingers when the bell goes off.

 

Released into the quadrangle, we squabble over frozen Farmer’s Union iced coffee. Vying for a lick, it is eaten granita stylie before my envious eyes and dried up lips.

 

Seagulls circle overhead, gawping, squarking, diving bins. My stomach gnaws.

 

April 9 2020

btw

 

P-s Why won’t WordPress accept my formatting!!!??? aargh!

 

http://www.napowrimo.net

Glopowrimo / Napowrimo 2020

Day 9.- Today’s resource is Kirsten Kaschock’s chapbook, Windowboxing. Kaschock, a dancer as well as a poet, titles her poems using neologisms or portmanteaus, and each one proceeds as a series of essay-like sentences. The poems are interspersed with drawings, and some are even formatted in the shapes of boxes, forcing the reader to turn the book (or their head) and engage with the poems as they move through space.

Our prompt for the day (optional as always) is inspired by Kaschock’s use of space to organize her poems. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a “concrete” poem – a poem in which the lines and words are organized to take a shape that reflects in some way the theme of the poem. This might seem like a very modernist idea, but poets have been writing concrete poems since the 1600s! Your poem can take a simple shape, like a box or ball, or maybe you’ll have fun trying something more elaborate, like this poem in the shape of a Christmas tree.

seed to swallow

Day 3:-and asks you to write a poem using random rhyme words. Here goes….

http://www.napowrimo.net

Glopowrimo / Napowrimo 2020

 

what do we see in the swallows

lifts us upright out of the fallows

where we left a small warm spot

cleft where we’d lain entwined; tiny frayed knots

 

what we see in those birds darts

and dashes right up through our hearts

left to compost down here yet where glimmers

sweet prayers in dirt rest;  blooms out from inners

 

what we see in dark decisive creatures

diminutive against the mighty expanse; features

untangle us from slumbers and husks to glimpses stolen

off the great plate of sky up where freedom is swollen

 

what were we to meet captured douce from this distance

tendered loose on puffy breasts, sharp winged persistence

see, not a thing is left to rest for long

come summer, something this way comes

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April 3, 2020

btw