Two Significant Moments

Here is one of my chance poems. I hope you enjoy it. I use chance methods to create my poems, drawings and paintings. I’d love to hear from you if you do the same!

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Two Significant Moments

by JayS

 

I have one of his and now the tattoos of hers are brighter than mine and sparkle as the new sun once did. I avoided getting it on my palm as there were his marks there

She is so Often Mentioned

She is so Often Mentioned

 

This year,

observe everything,

she does

 

and her life as it is and her stature,

is a portrait of her eye and a lively one;

ideas of high birth and of ‘chatter.’

 

Intercourse reveals ringlets about her very centre

The neatly displayed circle as if he were on his head is where we were by him of him,

obscured by vanity,

 

attention for which it craves as if she was as we were large and high but,

of sensation,

with eyes so bright we only say part of our brief interview,

 

I knew to walk in to make up with an extraordinary bare,

figure to the right,

and of these,

 

animal types.

Think,

the little Gothic well,

millions pining in the voice of one

This week’s poem is There was in cranes. I hope you enjoy it!

Fluxus
Fluxus

 

There was in cranes. by Jay Snelling

 

Cellophaned flowers.

To look forward to it was an astonishing feeling of a high degree.

Staging each

one by hand.

Directors of gardens,

their relationship to the towering tempest in over 2000 plastic theatres

created a production by the name of

Margaret.

She sat by Neptune and they created poultry,

and dogs with names of Mars and Fire.

They were interested,

to London they flew for a

line and shine

until ending.


I use chance methods to create my poetry and I’d love to hear from others who do the same!

The Monday Poem – There was in cranes.

The Monday Poem – Your Details of Its Release are Dead

This week’s poem is my Your Details of Its Release are Dead.

 

Your Details of Its Release are Dead

 

The first is his if

necessary so 2000 of them could

build a wall and could realise that fame has always been tainted

even when the first female

appeared on the TV.

A place to

design and a team

was

all I was 20 years ago, younger than I am currently and seeking medical assistance.

Sexually

a very, very large 20th-century cybernetic being, and you?

Over and over, we see doctors!

Mostly bats: You’re mostly cats: You’re

bratty, deluded and the word thespian to a Lord,

or

even a glimpse of his achievement,

didn’t like the

raw with Me

and Mr Abrams’ got it all and you will

too won’t you?

Idiots.

You will you will.

Your born intensity will only become stronger in the end.


I use chance methods to write my poetry and I’d love to hear from others who do the same.

The Monday Poem – To Make a Dadist Poem

This week’s poem is a little different – a poem instructing the reader on how to create a poem.

To Make A Dadist Poem – Poem by Tristan Tzara

Take a newspaper.
Take some scissors.
Choose from this paper an article the length you want to make your poem.
Cut out the article.
Next carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag.
Shake gently.
Next take out each cutting one after the other.
Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.
The poem will resemble you.
And there you are–an infinitely original author of charming sensibility, even though unappreciated by the vulgar herd.


Please do share if you give this technique a go!

The Monday Poem – An Extensive Look at Another Thing from That Department

The Monday Poem

An Extensive Look at Another Thing from That Department

 

I informed HER of a general dream

a new thought was going to be formed

it would forcibly cause herself to “shatter careers”.

But it didn’t

and my actions have continued

it is safe

and immediately HER department had reportedly been heard to whisper an executive secret when

silence.

 

by Jay

 

I hope you enjoyed this week’s Monday poem! Please get in touch if you’d like to see your own work here.

The Monday Poem: Life-Saving Medal by Philippe Soupault

Life-Saving Medal (Médaille de sauvetage)

My nose is long like a knife

And my eyes are red from laughing

At night I collect the milk and the moon

And run without looking round

If the trees are afraid behind me

I don’t care

How beautiful indifference is at midnight

Where are they going these folk

Pride of the cities

Village musicians

The crowd wildly dance

And I’m only this anonymous passer-by,

Or someone else whose name I’ve forgot

6008019


Philippe Soupault was a writer and poet, and one of the founders of Surrealism.