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Sporadic photos and notes from a Psyche-midwife, cheerleader, anthropologist--aka clinical social worker in therapy practice. Photos are usually mine except for those of historical events/famous people. Music relevant to the daily topic is often included in a web video embedded below the blog. Click on highlighted links in the copy to get to source or supplemental material. For contact information, see my website @ janasvoboda.com or click on the button to the right below. Join in the conversation.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

January 27 Challenge: Fragment Poem

This one is stolen straight from the old poet game I poetrix'd on the web year ago.  Thanks to St. Louie poet/musician Chris King for letting me cut and paste for today's challenge.

charmed, i'm sure
Orhan Veli, the Turkish poet through whom Jana found me (and eventually
Stefene), died with an unfinished poem found wrapped around his toothbrush.
His title was "Love Parade" and it's just that, a parade of all of his
lovers. (Of course, the song we wrote from it is called "Love Poem Found
Wrapped Around the Dead Poet's Toothbrush", couldn't resist.)

Anyway, several lines and almost one whole verse are lost because of
wrinkles and stains from the poem being wrapped around that damn toothbrush.
This is all of the verse from the stanza about the third lover that Defne
Halman and I could translate:

....... go out
....... hang out in the neighborhood
....... in spite of
....... side by side, the walls would be written
....... in the places of fire

So the game is to write a poem about your third lover, however you want to
count them, making use of these pieces of language. The tripple gainer
version would be a five line poem where the lines end with these phrases
(that's how Orhan Veli reads), though I may take the belly flop option and
just use them some way some how in a poem of a different length. Have fun!



Kiesa Kay said...

the lights go out
where a hundred fine linen shirts
out in the neighborhood
dancing slowly in spite of the rain that falls like teardrops from clouds
oh my beloved we stand side by side, and were you not here the walls would be written red streaks
tears and black ash blended
in the places of fire

i am not of a mood for this game but oh please, please, if you are a praying person, put a prayer in the air for my children, for all children, with a special mention of health and healing. Thank you.

speck said...

You never wanted to go out.
I would hang out in the neighborhood,
licking your feet, in spite of
her presence side by side. The walls would be written
darkly: the epitaph of my innocence in the places of fire.