Found Poem: The Last Great Adventure

My friend composed this found poem from the cover copy of books on a shelf in the corner of her living room. I love it. Hurray for the writers of epic sci-fi/fantasy back-cover blurbs. Now someone should write the novel that this is the back matter for…(ahem…for which this is the back matter).

The Last Great Adventure

No frills
no nonsense,
Just a divided world–
wealthy citizens,
urban poor–
And
six turbulent months.

Put the pieces back together,
Cordelia,
King of endless caverns,
eagly crags.
Night after restless night–
anguish and triumph,
magic and iron–
the art of war
shattered
by violence.

This is the story of
a people defeated,
the burden of hope
shimmering
during the last peaceful days
of the planet.

Led by the future,
she left behind
one hundred souls.

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F is for Found Poetry

I’ve posted some found poetry on this blog before (see here or here). I think I referred to it as “accidental poetry,” but it amounts to the same thing. Found poetry is a pretty self-explanatory term: it is language that you find in a non-poetic context and then reframe (sometimes intact, sometimes with the addition of line breaks or other grammatical changes) as poetry.

For a few months now the booksellers at the store where I work have been keeping track of found poems discovered in the inventory sorts that we run. We made them into a tumblr (that’s a generous “we” — I had no real part in the making or maintenance of said tumblr, I just like to feel included) called Bookseller’s Found Poetry. They might be slightly more amusing to our addled, book-buried brains, but here are a couple of my favorites:

Emotional life of your
language (the cultural):
feeling pain and being, in
secret: life of words.

– – – –

Outside your window, a
heart + soul.

 

– – – –

Spinoza now
is eating people

– – – –

Gender Born, Gender Made,
emotions revealed.
Telling lies – clues to deceit.

Pink Brain, Blue Brain:
You are Here.
You are Here.
Going on being.
Going to pieces without
psychotherapy.  Without
thoughts.  Without a thinker.

 

– – – –
And last but not least…
– – – –
I got this
Steve Jobs
man within my head.
– – – –
So many Steve Jobs books! Is that only funny to me? Maybe. But there are other poetic gems in there, so you should go explore for yourself!