Category Archives: poetry

Here is where you’ll categorize poetry posts during your field study. A minimum goal is one poem per week, 4 total, posted by Monday PM midnight. One of your four poems must be posted in a “Poetry Observed” video format (www.poetryobserved.com/). The goal is to perform your poetry in situ—within the context of your passionate immersion.

Time to Learn and Play

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Trampling of feet, tiny toddler size three shoes
Delightfully energetic the child chorus approaches and grows
Quickly! Such excitement cannot be suppressed!
Giggles, screeches, and yays as the ambush of hugs makes headway to a close
Putting every stern adult to the test
Children’s first words deciphered, “What will we do today!?”
Recognizing the enthusiasm, in reply I begin to say,
“I’ll get the paper.” and “Settle down…” to a few.
I now search my mind for projects familiar, and possibly new.
Questions continue to spill over one another as the children compete to be heard.
Standing here, a little puzzled, I catch a child’s eyes
A calming wave of quiet rushes in to my surprise
Quickly now, I grasp this chance, their attention grasped by song
It’s 45 degrees outside, while the room here is no warmer
At last we find our seats to learn some things from eachother

COUNTERCULTURE

Unoriginal Genius: Anarchy For The U.K.

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UNORIGINAL GENIUS: ANARCHY FOR THE U.K.

Anarchy for the U.K.

Is this the MPLA?

or is this the UDA?

or is this the IRA?

I thought it was the U.K.

How many ways to get what you want

In the city

your future dream is a shopping scheme

I wanna be an anarchist

because i wanna be anarchy

It’s coming sometime

but i know how to get it

i use the best

i use the rest

It’s the only way to be

I wanna be anarchy

Its the only way to be

Is this the U.K.?

or just another country?

Another council tenancy?

I am an anti-christ

I am an anarchist

 

The_letter_B

B – Poem – A Conversation Between Walls.

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A Conversation Between Walls.

She looks lost most the time.

Maybe not lost but confused or bored.

Sometimes the lack of light burns her out.

I’ve seen her move from

the bed to the floor and back again.

She stands in front of me a lot.

Staring.

She’s been gone for a few days,

only stops in when she needs to

change her clothes.

Good thing we have the plants to talk with.

She’s not one for much conversation.

Ah but what about the times

an other has been in here with her.

Do you think she knows we hold her?

I think she knows we hold her.

She knows we hold her.

It was not always her we held.

There were different things hanging here.

Different backs and corners

of furniture pressed against us.

She must know we hold them too.

We keep them separate from the rest.

Does she hide in here or live in here?

Where does she go?

Good thing we have the plants to talk too.

This room would be so quiet.

*Unfortunately the layout of the text did not transfer here. It is much more of a visual poem.