Thanks to Larry Ferlazzo, who guided me to the New York Times poetry interactive that allows you to create “blackout poems” from news articles right at the site, and then allows you to save and share them, too. I love this idea of “found ” poems, and am thinking of how to get my students into the mix later this week, perhaps.
From a reading perspective, it’s interesting how you need to read the article, and then read the individual words, searching for phrases and ideas that might stem from what is available to use. Plus, there is a sequencing of words that you have to abide by, which makes the process even trickier.
And yet, it works nicely. I wrote a few yesterday, including one I called Screen Mistress Algorithm and another called Unscathed. And in the spirit of the times, you can remix the same articles yourself and make your own poems, either riffing off mine or going off in your own direction. Give it a try.
Peace (in the words on the page as poem),
Today’s Wonder poem is about chocolate. I decided to do a prose poem of a stand-off, of sorts, using a bit a humor to tell the story of the last piece of chocolate in the tin.
The Chocolate Sat, No More (a prose poem)
So, here’s the conundrum:
the last piece of chocolate sits
in the tin, and it’s just you and me
and the space within, our eyes
narrowing with confidence that the other
will give in and so we’ll win with words of
love and radiant smiles, and swim inside
this story together, these miles and miles
of open road of the knowing and the understanding
and the sacrifice of the sharing
with the other and yet before we know it,
twitching young fingers will have reached across
and in and scooped the chocolate out, into their
mouth, a smouldering smile and a gentle shrug
of shoulders as if to say, in so many words,
Thank you mom and dad, as the back door screen door
slams shut, leaving us now speechless with the sheer
bravado of youth and the canvass of an empty plate
where the chocolate once sat
but no more.
Peace (in the yum),
I did some lifting of lines on Twitter yesterday morning, as part of my “line lifting” project to remix new poems from the shards of others’ poems. I’ve written about why I do this (to honor writers and to celebrate the remix of ideas) in a previous post, in case you are curious.
Peace (in the inspiration),
Today’s Wonder of the World poem is about “sunrise” and I was tinkering around with the idea of playing with text, and decided to write a Sunrise/Sunset poem with one poem mirroring the other. It’s sort like a virtual foldable poem.
We bathe in the hint of light,
just above the treeline,
knowing that when we close our eyes
to the silence of the fading night,
this moment will disappear almost as quickly as it arrived
as yet another day breaks into the start of
a new poem.
˙ɯǝod ƃuıƃɐ uɐ
ɟo puǝ ǝɥʇ oʇuı sʞɐǝɹq ʇɥƃıu ɹǝɥʇouɐ ʇǝʎ sɐ
pǝʌıɹɹɐ ʇı sɐ ʎןʞɔınb sɐ ʇsoɯןɐ ɹɐǝddɐsıp ןןıʍ ʇuǝɯoɯ sıɥʇ
‘ʎʞs ƃuıpɐɟ ǝɥʇ ɟo ʇǝınb ǝɥʇ oʇ
sǝʎǝ ɹno uǝdo ǝʍ uǝɥʍ ʇɐɥʇ ƃuıʍouʞ
‘ǝpısןןıɥ ǝɥʇ puoʎǝq ʇsnɾ
‘ʇɥƃıן ɟo ʇsɐן ǝɥʇ uı ʞuıɹp ǝʍ
I did a version at Notegraphy but I don’t like how it looks when I converted it into an image file (which is how I often share it here, as an embeddable file).
Peace (along the folds),
Some convergence of “selfie” ideas came to my mind yesterday, with the DS106 Daily Create riffing off creating a “bad selfie” to someone sharing the cute video and CommonSense Media posting an interesting piece about girls and selfies and body image, and then I decided to do my own version of the Ellen selfie, but with webcomics.
This was my submission to the Daily Create, using a filter to warp my head an then photobombing my own selfie with my comic self.
I love this video. It captures the oddity of the selfie with humor.
Selfie from Andy Martin on Vimeo.
And I did my own group selfie:
Peace (in the vid),
I think it was Margaret who was writing an ode the other day, and so when I saw that this mornings Wonder of the World poem was about the polar ice caps, it made sense to think in terms of an “ode” for the ice, which is slowly melting.
Peace (in the poem),
I suspect I am like a lot of readers of The New Yorker magazine. On the day it arrives in the mail (usually a Tuesday or Wednesday), I flip through the pages to read all of the cartoons, either chuckling and sharing with my wife, or scratching my head to figure out just what the heck the joke is. I end up at the last page, where the Caption Contest takes place (my neighbor recently won) in order to see if I could have done better (not likely).
I then move on to articles and forget the cartoons. But Bob Mankoff’s whole professional life is constructed around cartoons, and the editor of cartoons at The New Yorker has a fantastic new book out that explores his life as a cartoonist and brings us into the inner workings of how cartoons get chosen by the magazine. The book — How About Never? Is Never Good For You? — is jam-packed with cartoons and comics, as Mankoff shows off his own work (which I now recognize by the dot style of drawing) and a host of other artists whose work I read every week.
Mankoff even promises to show a reader how to win the Caption Contest, and then admits that that promise was a ruse to get you reading his book. His style of writing is like his style of cartooning — witty, sly and engaging, in a voice that let’s us know that while he takes his job seriously, he’s not above poking fun at anything and everything, including himself. And after all that, he does in fact give some insider views on the Caption Contest. So, there.
As I was reading the book, though, it occurred to me many times just how difficult it would be to make a living making cartoons. So many get rejected. So few get published. And yet, you have to make a handful every week, knowing that you will be lucky if one gets chosen. Mankoff tries to solve some of this years ago when he co-founded the Cartoon Bank, which is now part of the New Yorker family. The Cartoon Bank is a data-base of comics that can be purchased for use, allowing some income stream for artists. Mankoff has that kind of sensibility to support artists.
Peace (in the cartoon),
Today’s Wonder of the World poem is about Victoria Falls, and as I read about it, I wondered if anyone was ever foolhardy enough to try to ride over it. So, that became my light-hearted poem, inviting you into my raft. I decided to use Prezi for the platform because I was interesting in using Prezi’s weakness (that feeling of vertigo) as the poem’s strength (falling over the falls). I don’t think the poem itself is one my stronger pieces of writing but I like the “experience” of the poem as it came out. I went with a simple dark black background and white text to keep it simple.
Peace (in the story to tell),
I wrote up a review of Troy Hicks and Jeremy Hyler’s new book at MiddleWeb: Create Compose Connect (Reading, Writing, and Learning with Digital Tools). I find the book useful in a lot of ways, particularly as it shows ways to enhance learning with technology with some specific projects.
Peace (in the review),
Today’s topic for the Wonders of the World poetry is the Amazon Rain Forest. I tried to write a prose poem, of sorts, and wrote it with the intent of “performing” it as a podcast. I wrote with flow, I hope.
Never an Explorer (Amazon Rain Forest )
I could never explore
the forest: Too many bugs.
Too many birds to keep me up at night;
Too many words
that would escape my imagination.
Too much heat I’d have to fight off.
I’d no doubt become delirious,
in this often mysterious
crawling just beneath the surface,
so that even if I left you this poem,
tacked to the giant tree in the center of the wood,
in a place barely understood —
not on any map that we’ve ever known —
nothing would be left of my words over time
but the invisible ink of an explorer
gone way out of his depth —
struggling for rhythm, grappling with rhyme —
No, I’d be the one who never made it back home,
the writer who give his life
for the wildness of the world,
and that isn’t going to happen this time.
Peace (in the exploration),