Process Poem.  ???

The challenge this week was to write a process poem.   I had no idea what I would do.  But the instructor also sent out a link to 92 experimental poem starters (his exact words were- " First, Your prompt: Write a poem that takes a material process, rather than an object, as its object. Or try out one of these 92 experimental prompts: http://www.writing.upenn.edu/bernstein/experiments.html. ")

On the list, I found a website called The Lazurus Corporation, and deep in their website was The  Text Mixing Desk ( http://archive.lazaruscorporation.co.uk/cutup/textinput.php ).  It allows you to submit a piece of text, which it will cut up into strips, reorder, cut into new strips, reorder, etc.   You can reorder up to five times, and you can vary the lengths of strips from one to seven words long.  I was fascinated by this tool!  (It also can transgenderize  a text, switching male to female, female to male , or all, and it can scrub out obscenities).   I spent hours playing with this tool, cutting and pasting passages from Mrs Dalloway in the Text Mixing Desk.  Lots of fun.  Take a minute to try it out.

Then, I remembered that I take an injection every two weeks for arthritis, so I copied the instructions on how to inject Humira into the Text Mixing Desk, and I ran it 15-20 times through the process, trying different lengths of phrases, cutting and pasting multiple times.  Look at me- I'm creating Dada poetry! ( http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/poetic-technique-chance-operations )   Below are two of my favorite results of running instructions for injecting Humira through the Text Mixing Desk at the Lazarus Project.


Version one:

Area.

place grey

hold pen raised quick tips for using plum-colored until area of skin with an well.

pick an hear injection site to

 make a raised humira

pick

wash angle.

press

press at a 90° pen firmly end of pen onto gray cap off

pull off

place

pinch and dry your hands site.

wipe clean will plum colored “click” at the a load alcohol the yellow firmly in place or wait 10 seconds. skin together at against button.

you cap indicator stops skin.

push moving swab.

pull

pull injection start.

 -------------------------------------------

Version two:

  

Swab.

pull

pull gray moving or wait 10 cap clean with an alcohol pen onto raised area of an site to make a raised will angle.

press

press pen injection site.

wipe off

place

pinch plum-colored button.

you skin at a 90°

hold pen firmly in place “click” at the start. area.

place grey end of skin together at injection quick tips for using stops yellow indicator seconds.

 cap hear a load until the firmly against skin.

push off

pull plum colored humira

pick

wash and dry your hands well.

Pick

The original:

Quick tips for using Humira

Pick

Wash and dry your hands well.

Pick an injection site.

Wipe clean with an alcohol swab.

Pull

Pull Gray Cap off

Pull Plum colored Cap off

Place

Pinch skin together at injection site to make a raised area.

Place grey end of pen onto raised area of skin at a 90° angle.

Press

Press pen firmly against skin.

Push Plum-colored button.

You will hear a load “click” at the start.

Hold pen firmly in place until the yellow indicator stops moving or wait 10 seconds. 

------------------------

All the best to you who read, and thanks for dropping by.

 

Still Life- Lime

"Write a poem in which you observe and describe a single object. This object is of your choosing; it can be pedestrian, everyday, meaningful, significant, poetic, prosaic, awful, cheerful, normal, almost invisible, imaginary, or whatever. Certainly it can be an art object or a love trophy or a piece of trash. But it is important to me that you look closely at one thing until it changes into something else. I am thinking of this as a practice in looking, staring, observing."  From Scott Challener

Still Life- Lime                       

Green.  Of course.

It must be green.

Not one, or two, but several greens-

moss and kelly and olive and lime.

It rests, still, on the kitchen table;

waxy shine reflects the ceiling light,

but over its horizon, what will I find

on the dark side of the lime?

From where I sit, I see

surface mottled, small bumps

and dents

and rivulets.

Tectonic plates almost appear;

an equatorial hint runs stem to stern.

And I, Galactic – scale astronaut,

will soon rise up,

orbit the lime, this little citrus world,

take its measure, and return again,   

with new words for lime and green and still.

John Andrews   7/10/14

Pocket Buddha

"Write a poem in which you observe and describe a single object. This object is of your choosing; it can be pedestrian, everyday, meaningful, significant, poetic, prosaic, awful, cheerful, normal, almost invisible, imaginary, or whatever. Certainly it can be an art object or a love trophy or a piece of trash. But it is important to me that you look closely at one thing until it changes into something else. I am thinking of this as a practice in looking, staring, observing."  From Scott Challener

Pocket Buddha

He sits on coils of a snake demon,

its seven heads fanning out above him,

seeming threat, but representing protection.

He rests an open hand on  crisscrossed legs;

the other seems to grip a knee,

though these details  are nicked and muddled

and his corners are rounded,

from jostlings in bookbags and suitcases,

backs-of-drawers and under-beds,

buffeted by day-to-day epiphanies.

His eyes stare into the far distance,

but the dust gathers in the nooks

where his back meets snake.

You are a copy,

a knock off,

a mass-produced palm-sized Buddha,

emulating finer icons of enlightenment.

I carry you with me now and then,

tucked away with calendars and spiral notebooks.

I forget you’re there.

When I remember you,

take you out, cradle you in my open hand

(seeming protection, representing threat),

no bigger than a rabbit’s foot,

you offer no wisdom, no shelter nor sympathy,

only nicked and muddled memories

of a trip to the other side of the world.