Come check out OctPoWriMo 2016 at Poets on the Page.
There is this THING that happens sometimes with writers. It happens to me and maybe it has happened to you. Especially as we go into the October Challenge, we need to prepare for those days when we just can't squeeze another word out... or it feels like we just can't squeeze another word out.
Your solution? Found poetry!
There are two ways to write Found Poetry.
Both are valid and I have, at times, used one or another as
an exercise in creativity. Now, it is YOUR turn!
Tip #14 – If you think you’ve got absolutely nothing to say,
pick up today’s newspaper (or the copy on the ketchup bottle or a page of your
text book) and shuffle the words any which way. Speak them aloud and
reconfigure them. Just like that, you’ve got… a new poem. If you think you MAY
have something to say, pick a line or two of any poem at all, perhaps with a
word or phrase you like. Go for a walk while reciting the words. Either return
home or sit on a bench at wherever your destination was and write. Just like
that, you’ve got… a new poem.
I like to use found poetry
techniques and I find, over and over again, I am at least entertained and happy
at my molding and shaping of words, even if it isn’t a poem I ever go back to
for revision or publication, it has gotten me through a patch when I thought I
couldn’t write at all.
Found poetry reminds me “Si, se puede.” Yes, I can. And you
can, too.
First, I am going to have an evening snack in place of
dinner. Some Special K. I am going to use the box to scribe a found poem as I
type.
The Pantry (I added five extra words NOT on the cereal
box)
tips and advice sprint
deliciously on the go
munch fresh berries
forget cracker cravings
face moments of feeling
temptations rise up
choices stutter before we
face full moments
remember, indulge textures
sprinkling afternoon’s clouds
Through the pantry door
Right before I sat munching and writing, I gathered Two lines
from Robert Frost’s Poem, After Apple Picking. The two lines are in bold below.
And there’s a barrel
that I didn’t fill (and) Upon my way
to sleep before it fell.
I chose these two lines because I liked how they
sounded separately and together. I changed the perspective from first person and
wrote a completely fictitious poem. There are some inspirations for my
observations of life today, but other than that, I can’t tell you anything.
This little girl in the navy blue sweater lives in my imagination and across
school playgrounds of the 1960’s. Do you recognize yourself in her?
Upon her way to sleep before it fell
Her neck bent, her forehead hovers
Above the concrete hopscotch board boasts
Its numbers, a living dare
Children sing of dells and farmers
She waits, hunched
Breath chopped and stitched
With worry and memory and
Distaste of that boy, the one who called
Sheep in hairy, unobtrusive, costumes.
Bell rings, its sound rolls through her.
She remembers then
There’s a barrel that he didn’t fill
She straightens her navy blue sweater
And lifts her head
===
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