Last year, I took a song writing course from Coursera, and it was super cool. A great no-pressure way to learn about song writing.
Now, I have joined a poetry workshop, also through Coursera, called Sharpened Visions: A Poetry Workshop Sharpened Visions: A Poetry Workshop, led by Douglas Kearney, a Poet/performer/ librettist.
Now, I have joined a poetry workshop, also through Coursera, called Sharpened Visions: A Poetry Workshop Sharpened Visions: A Poetry Workshop, led by Douglas Kearney, a Poet/performer/ librettist.
Week 1 Poetry Prompts:
The Found Poem: A Brand New poem in Three Easy Steps
Grab a paragraph of text from a book or on the web and make a found poem by breaking a passage in to lines. A poem is more than line broken prose, but this exercise can help you experiment with rhythm and sound quickly.
Grab a paragraph of text from a book or on the web and make a found poem by breaking a passage in to lines. A poem is more than line broken prose, but this exercise can help you experiment with rhythm and sound quickly.
The Found Poems:
(#1)
To quote Douglas Kearney in this course's introduction....
Poetry
orchestrates its
music,
arguments,
tensions, and
environments via
arrangements of
language into
lines and stanzas.
The line
break is perhaps
the most conspicuous signature
tool in the poet's toolkit.
Do you
break for
sound,
sense,
visual effect, or
shape?
To quote Douglas Kearney in this course's introduction....
Poetry
orchestrates its
music,
arguments,
tensions, and
environments via
arrangements of
language into
lines and stanzas.
The line
break is perhaps
the most conspicuous signature
tool in the poet's toolkit.
Do you
break for
sound,
sense,
visual effect, or
shape?
(#2)
What Aldous Huxley saw...
A bunch of flowers
Shining with their own inner light.
Those folds in my pants-
What a labyrinth of endlessly significant complexity!
...When the Doors of Perception were open...
I was seeing what Adam had seen
on the morning of his own creation-
The miracle, moment
by
moment, of
naked existence.
What Aldous Huxley saw...
A bunch of flowers
Shining with their own inner light.
Those folds in my pants-
What a labyrinth of endlessly significant complexity!
...When the Doors of Perception were open...
I was seeing what Adam had seen
on the morning of his own creation-
The miracle, moment
by
moment, of
naked existence.
(#3)
Forward of Brave New World:
Chronic remorse,
as all moralists are agreed,
is a most undesirable sentiment.
If you have behaved badly,
Repent,
Make what amends you can
and address yourself to the task of
behaving better
next time,
On no account brood over your
wrongdoing.
Rolling in the muck is not the best way of
getting clean.
Forward of Brave New World:
Chronic remorse,
as all moralists are agreed,
is a most undesirable sentiment.
If you have behaved badly,
Repent,
Make what amends you can
and address yourself to the task of
behaving better
next time,
On no account brood over your
wrongdoing.
Rolling in the muck is not the best way of
getting clean.
(#4)
A Pig Parade is a Terrible Idea (based on a book by Michael Ian Black)
What could be
more fun
than gathering a
few hundred pigs together
for a grand parade,
and then watching them
proudly march together
in perfect formation
down the finest boulevard
of your hometown?
A Pig Parade is a Terrible Idea (based on a book by Michael Ian Black)
What could be
more fun
than gathering a
few hundred pigs together
for a grand parade,
and then watching them
proudly march together
in perfect formation
down the finest boulevard
of your hometown?
| (#5) The Skeptical Cartomancer Believe it or not, I am a skeptic. Such a label might be odd for an author of occult books. But I'm a Skeptic in the older sense of the word: I find it hard to believe on hearsay alone. | I need data- either scientific data or personal experience- to believe a claim is true. Moreover, I always keep in mind the alternate ways of interpreting data: My divinations may be self-delusions, My religious experience, hallucinations, My neighbors, figments of my imagination. |
(#6)
How to Talk With the Universe (from Understanding Yourself, by Dale Carlson)
So, first sit
down.
Sit in a chair or sit
on the floor.
Legs crossed, or
on the floor.
Do not lean against the chair back or wall.
Back straight, shoulders down and relaxed.
Lower your eyes to the floor, or close them.
Take
a
few
deep
breaths.
Draw the air
into your belly
And bring it up
through your diaphragm
and into your lungs.
Slow-
ly
Let the
breath out
Slowly,
Back down
through your diaphragm.
Tighten your belly and push all the air out.
Keep
Your
Attention
On
Your
Breath-
In, and
Out, and
In, and
Out...
Thoughts will occur.
Watch them pass through your mind.
Do not follow them.
Note them.
Let them pass.
Bring your attention back to your breath-
In, and
Out, and
In, and
Out...
Watch your thoughts
come and go.
Do not hang onto any of them.
Do not let them pull you Away
from
where
You
are.
The trick here is that there is no trick.
Do
Nothing.
There is nothing to do.
In, and
Out, and
In, and
Out...
When the mind quiets, eventually,
The you of you
will not interfere with your connection to
the Universe
And you feel
Peaceful- in this stillness.
Your troubles and the troubles of the world
Fade
Away.
After practicing meditation for a while, you will feel connections to
everything and
everyone.
If you are lucky you may hear the breath of
the Universe and feel a high
you have never known, before.
Remember,
your thoughts will always be thunk.
Don't think about them.
(You're thinking about them, now-
Aren't you?-
Because I told you not to!)
Watch them,
Let them pass. Don't follow them.
Don't lapse into scripts or daydreams.
Eventually, thoughts and scenarios, nervous lists of things done and to do, questions about what on earth you're doing just sitting there-
All
Slow
Down.
Leave spaces.
It is in those spaces between thoughts, when
All that talk,
The chattering of the Self, it's memories and knowledge and problems,
All that has been taught-
It is in those gaps that the Universe
Speaks to us.
When the "I" of us
Stops,
We touch the
Everything.
How to Talk With the Universe (from Understanding Yourself, by Dale Carlson)
So, first sit
down.
Sit in a chair or sit
on the floor.
Legs crossed, or
on the floor.
Do not lean against the chair back or wall.
Back straight, shoulders down and relaxed.
Lower your eyes to the floor, or close them.
Take
a
few
deep
breaths.
Draw the air
into your belly
And bring it up
through your diaphragm
and into your lungs.
Slow-
ly
Let the
breath out
Slowly,
Back down
through your diaphragm.
Tighten your belly and push all the air out.
Keep
Your
Attention
On
Your
Breath-
In, and
Out, and
In, and
Out...
Thoughts will occur.
Watch them pass through your mind.
Do not follow them.
Note them.
Let them pass.
Bring your attention back to your breath-
In, and
Out, and
In, and
Out...
Watch your thoughts
come and go.
Do not hang onto any of them.
Do not let them pull you Away
from
where
You
are.
The trick here is that there is no trick.
Do
Nothing.
There is nothing to do.
In, and
Out, and
In, and
Out...
When the mind quiets, eventually,
The you of you
will not interfere with your connection to
the Universe
And you feel
Peaceful- in this stillness.
Your troubles and the troubles of the world
Fade
Away.
After practicing meditation for a while, you will feel connections to
everything and
everyone.
If you are lucky you may hear the breath of
the Universe and feel a high
you have never known, before.
Remember,
your thoughts will always be thunk.
Don't think about them.
(You're thinking about them, now-
Aren't you?-
Because I told you not to!)
Watch them,
Let them pass. Don't follow them.
Don't lapse into scripts or daydreams.
Eventually, thoughts and scenarios, nervous lists of things done and to do, questions about what on earth you're doing just sitting there-
All
Slow
Down.
Leave spaces.
It is in those spaces between thoughts, when
All that talk,
The chattering of the Self, it's memories and knowledge and problems,
All that has been taught-
It is in those gaps that the Universe
Speaks to us.
When the "I" of us
Stops,
We touch the
Everything.
Breaking Good: Chop a Block of Famous Poetry
Below is a piece of lineated poetry that has been stripped of line breaks—I’ve also gotten rid of capitalization except where grammatically necessary. Copy the bolded text below into a new document or write it out by hand, adding line breaks where you think they should go.
tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time; and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. out, out, brief candle! life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing
Below is a piece of lineated poetry that has been stripped of line breaks—I’ve also gotten rid of capitalization except where grammatically necessary. Copy the bolded text below into a new document or write it out by hand, adding line breaks where you think they should go.
tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time; and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. out, out, brief candle! life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing
 |  |
Without any further adieu...
Tomorrow, and
tomorrow, and
tomorrow, creeps in
this petty
pace from day to
day, to the last
syllable of
recorded
time;
And all our
yesterdays have
lighted fools the way to dusty
death.
Out,
out,
brief
candle!
Life's but a walking
shadow, a poor
player that struts and
frets his
hour upon the
stage and
then is
heard
no
more:
It is a tale
told by an
idiot,
full of sound and
fury,
signifying
nothing.
Tomorrow, and
tomorrow, and
tomorrow, creeps in
this petty
pace from day to
day, to the last
syllable of
recorded
time;
And all our
yesterdays have
lighted fools the way to dusty
death.
Out,
out,
brief
candle!
Life's but a walking
shadow, a poor
player that struts and
frets his
hour upon the
stage and
then is
heard
no
more:
It is a tale
told by an
idiot,
full of sound and
fury,
signifying
nothing.
Here are some of the books, I used:
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Copyright. All works are original, as written by moi, Nicola Schneider, on this date: Aug. 28, 2015.
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