Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson


April 4, 2008 - Found Poetry

This is National Poetry Writing Month, where poets are challenged to write a poem every day. I'll be taking that challenge, though I'm not likely to share my poems online. In honor of NaPoWriMo, though, here are some items I found that could be considered found poems.

First up, a crumpled piece of paper with three words and a sentence, probably part of a vocabulary exercise. Simple, but impressionistic, much like a haiku.

          miserable       black     coal
          miserable is black and dark like a lump
          of coal

Coal haiku

The next piece is really hard to read, since it was very damaged when I found it, and it had been written in pencil. Consider it a poetry fragment by an ancient poet. This is particularly appropriate, given the subject matter.

               me          ion
          Ocean Rome is in
          Rome and it heels
            you / migratory
          when you have leprosy

Poetry fragment

Next is a piece could be considered a combination prose poem (because of the lack of attention to line breaks) and concrete poem (because of the use of typographical characteristics to add a visual component to free verse). While I think it's actually the aborted beginning of a story, the quirky diction converts it into the poetic, reminding me of some of John Lennon's absurdist free verse. I call this one "The Ride That Was."

               Chi chi chi
            Bang Bang Chi

            Sl Sl Sl Sl   ideeee

     Olive was frightened to deaf.
     Her long brown wavy hair
     scrambled all over her pale
     and glisting eyes. She hollerd
     she sreamed "let me of.
     NOW!  NOW!  NOW
     the ride was about to
     go up to the highest mountain.
     She tryed to clim off but
     she was straped in tight.
     So she porked all the way
     down the mountain   whe she
     got off, she was dizzy
     and    and she hollerd
     That was

The Ride That Was

The last two are by the same author, and they were folded up inside each other. They both had numbers in the bottom corner of the page, as if they came from a numbered notebook. The one on top was numbered 69. It looks like it's actually a series of jokes about dinosaurs, presumably written by a dinosaur fan who is not afraid to create his own dinosaur names. Read it as a catalogue poem, which lists parts of speech in parallel structure. I call this one "How Does a Dinosaur?"

     how does the sign say at the entrance to a
     dinosaur cave   home sweet stone.

     "What" did the Dinosaur say as he logged
     home the groceries   oh my aching Brachio saurus

     how do you tell a dinosaur to hurry
     Shackalege osaurus

     how dose dinosaurs

How Does a Dinosaur

Finally, by the same author, poem 65, a free verse didactic couplet, which I call "The Other Right Meat".

     I go to the pork and I know im right.
     you need to come Donna

The Other Right Meat

Moral:
When you don't know what word to write next, try "pork."

Copyright 2008 by Alyce Wilson


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