Found Poem

Between-the-Lines Poem: Choose your favorite poem from the readings. Type out the poem, leaving triple-space between lines. Then, between the lines, fill in a new line of your own which is sparked by the original line. Eliminate all original poem lines at the end. The poem that remains is your own. Tinker with it and make it cohere.

13 thoughts on “Found Poem”

  1. From in “Fourth Grade Autobiography”

    We live in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.
    We have a front yard and a backyard.
    My favorite things are cartwheels, honeydew,
    and playing tennis with my mom. I squeeze the grass
    and dirt between my fingers. Eat my tongue
    white.

    He tosses balls into orbit
    Every ball drops like a raindrop, delicate or heavy

    of riots and falling and the dark.
    The sunset of flames ringing our block,
    groceries and Asian-owned storefronts. No one
    to catch me. Midnight walks from his room to mine.
    I believe in the devil.

    I have 2 brothers

    and strong headlock. We have a dog named
    Starr, fluffy and white.

    We have a cherry blossom
    tree. A black walnut tree. A fig tree.
    We lie in the grass and wonder who writes
    in the sky. I lie in the grass and imagine
    my name, a cloud drifting. Saturday
    dance parties. Everyone drunk on pink
    panties.

    Strobe lights and people dancing close. Sometimes Mama dances with the dog.
    Sometimes my brothers dance with me. I feel free
    In the comfort of my house walls. They are careful to protect me.
    I’m careful to not let them go.

  2. Inspired by: “How to Triumph Like A Girl” by Ada Limón

    Work, Women, Work

    I enjoy watching women work most,
    they make it seem so pleasant,
    as if constantly exerting energy
    doesn’t take a toll.
    I enjoy the care they take
    with their appearance. Hair brushed, girls, add some blush!
    To tell you the truth, I enjoy
    their demeanor. It reminds me
    that something is lurking in me
    deep inside the fragile home
    surrounded by muscle and bone,
    the heart of a woman, a lost girl
    detached from the rest, heavy with regret.
    You believe me, don’t you?
    Here, let me show off my chest, bare
    see what’s left behind
    the remains of a working girl,
    who knows she can never win.

  3. Found in “Wade in the water” by Tracy K. Smith

    The breath is a response
    to the syllables
    Sucked into blood,
    What could be more truthful
    Then slumping over
    Covered in honeydew
    I love you
    Yellow in the chin
    I love you
    Blue in the ears
    I love you
    Red
    Breath for you
    For the honeydew
    Of the past
    To be water but now
    Air
    Fuller than any of us every will be
    I love you
    In popping ears
    In filling mouths
    Till the red gives it back
    And will track us always down
    I love you
    bone bubbles
    The the need
    The breeze
    I love you
    It will blow back around
    It would go back into the yellow
    The blue
    The red
    The blood
    The ears
    The honey dew

  4. The Eclipse – Inspired by The Wild Iris by Louise Glück

    I feel alone
    no one understands it

    Hear me out:
    they are forever in my memory

    surrounded by noises, sounds of life, but
    an eclipse of my mind, an overpower nap
    until a voice re-awakes reality

    I survive
    consciousness drifting
    Mind both present and absent at once

    In an instant, life returns to normal:
    my unable mind able again
    unable again, I’m acutely aware of oblivious surroundings
    alone, I crumble, but
    birds serenade outside my window

    No one else seems to notice
    If only I could control the mind train
    It’s time to be human again: whatever
    Into the oblivion
    Silently crying

    Since the beginning of my life
    A great mystery,
    neuronal misbehavior

  5. Found from “The Years” by Alex Dimitrov

    Those phone calls day and night
    Seeing the lives of others
    Through nothing but their words
    During which friends joined, left,
    and hung their words dry
    Maybe we all felt discontent,
    Wondering if we were wasting our youth,
    Refusing to say those words out loud
    Behind the melancholic blue of our screens,
    Fearing saying even a brief word
    Because in just a moment
    Our fears become real and cosmic
    By acknowledging their existence.
    Inside the phone weighing on my being
    My friends live and share.
    Share their joy, their sorrow, the
    State of their heart. In these pictures
    They were everywhere, and
    They were nowhere. A party
    In the now or trapped in cyberspace.
    I know I should join them, leave
    The world I’ve trapped myself in—
    Make my youth an explosion
    Of colors or a book full
    Of anecdotes. Laying on my bed,
    The night sky fills my senses.
    The stars take the initiative, dedicating
    Their lives to painting their masterpiece.
    We are all enveloped under this same work
    Of art. Yet they have gone to the party,
    While I cannot move.

  6. Found from “Spa Days” by KEETJE KUIPERS

    Leaves dripping onto me like lemonade
    Making me arch my back,
    To be, big and strong, the absence of hair
    A phantom tickling of my shoulders. Yesterday, swimming
    In the stock, I found a carrot’s crown
    A top barely hanging on to it’s orange root
    The remnants of its flavor, and remembered
    The months I spent underground,
    The dirt thick around me,
    while worms danced carefully around my body
    as slippery and spry as a lick
    I did not fear those worms, or their feces I took
    Into my bones, though I was always trying to out
    grow them to what I believed was hidden
    Inside their wrinkles. I knew it would require
    A persistence, a lengthening towards the light.
    How strange to discover what Spring has done
    Through that slow, stubborn ascent – the light
    Itself, every velvety bit of it like the kiss
    Of a loved one: warm, softened butter where you
    Are the edge. And the water, all these months later,
    Still absorbing into my skin from that dirt below me.

  7. Found poem from The Wild Iris by Louise Gluck

    You still come back to me
    Through a door painted by kids, a yellow door.

    It feels less permanent
    The crossing off of another something.

    The candle in its tin flickers and goes out.
    It shines stronger in my memory,
    A pond disturbed by a thrown rock.

    To feel your bones crack, the same as
    Your flesh, unwilling and too visceral
    Your body, sorrel curled around fingertips

    Turned into only memories
    To remember the marrow you kissed
    No longer bends to your love,
    your silence, a gaping chest wound.
    The songbirds are finally out for spring.

    The night I let you crawl in
    A boat across the styx, a promise
    You needed me to – I need you.
    A heart pushed back into motion –
    I would leave you at the door.

    The space you carved, caving, craving
    The depth of which I promise to know
    A coin tossed, a wish dissolved in brine.

  8. Inspired by Detail of the Woods by Richard Siken

    The towering pines encircling me shrink me down into something unimportant.

    Put me in a jail of bark and twigs.
    I’m straining my ears but can’t hear a sound. Is anyone there? Maybe it’s too late, already.

    In this space I am alone, and yet it is not mine. It belongs to the forest.
    Some can tell time by watching the movements of the moon. All I know is that it’s been forever.

    From the friendly animals: a sense of loneliness.
    From the playful wind: a sense of loneliness.

    I pretend it doesn’t matter, that this was meant to happen. To take control.
    Everything makes a sound.

    In my mind, you hold my hand, and the loneliness is gone.

  9. Dented grass

    Sweeping masses above like mushroom clouds, me pulled close like a speck of dust, waiting.

    Inside of me the forest beats like an unsteady footstep and I hold my knees to my chest.
    I listen for movement. Even though

    I shouldn’t stay in the forest, a lost infection searching for something to grasp. I have nowhere to go.
    The moon glints through the trees with only enough light to illuminate a single blade of grass.
    Cold moon, long nights moon.

    From the moon: a sense of direction.
    From the bomb: a sense of direction.

    The air breathes itself in and out without word, without meaning.
    I try to consume it for yourself. I try to cover you

    as though there is nothing to fear.
    As though there is nothing

  10. Based off of Meditations in an Emergency by Cameron Awkward-Rich

    The light is too bright, it stings my eyes, yet another day of not wanting to wake
    up. It is cloudy and gloomy, but I go on anyway. I
    force my little legs to carry me down the road, passing those
    far more beautiful than I. People walking in groups, laughing and smiling
    forming a circle, I am on the outside looking in. They
    move like they do not have a care in the world, the blonde, and the blue
    make this just another day. Sometimes when I close my eyes
    I am somewhere else. Not here and panicking pulling at
    My hair trying to look busy. But I am somewhere safe and sound.
    But I am not like them, I have to change and soften myself
    so I don’t appear dangerous. Just don’t
    appear dangerous

  11. Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota – by James Wright

    Wings fluttering lazily,
    Almost imperceptible.
    In the backlit glow-hazy fields,
    Ambling along with purpose
    Sigh.
    I turn my head to see
    Where the farmer turned them out last,
    Still lying where they fell,
    Embracing the fibers of the hammock,
    Night bugs begin to fill the silence.
    Eventually, it coasts out of sight.

  12. Based off of Meditations in an Emergency by Cameron Awkward-Rich

    The Hamster Wheel

    I wake up and instantly try to go back. The light is too bright &
    The sun hurts my sleepy blue eyes. I force a trip outside the solace of my house.
    Get in the car. Pick up groceries. Observe the morning commute.
    People, like ants in a colony.
    On the sidewalk, driving their cars, the occasional retiree
    Free from the chains of unfulfilling work,
    But what is my purpose? It has to be
    More than this. Life has to be more than this.
    I get back in my beat-down twenty-four year old car
    Making yet another seemingly expensive new noise.
    Tik-tik-tik. Like me, it will soon explode.
    Like me, nobody knows when. Like me, nobody knows why.
    Nobody knows.

  13. Found from “How to Triumph Like A Girl” by Ada Limón

    I wish I had a lady horse’s heart,
    moving easy, like it’s nothing,
    like the hardest thing I’ve ever done
    is a walk in the park,
    and I can strut and toss my head
    like I’ve already won.
    Honestly, I like that they’re bitches
    to prove a point. If she can stamp a hoof
    and pin an ear to get her way, then maybe I
    can set a boundary for my own skin.
    She is clothed in muscle, but we have
    the same heart, her and I,
    attitude and boundaries and all.
    Hey, don’t you trust me?
    Don’t you trust I have it in me,
    a classy bitch and a powerhouse,
    to trust enough in myself
    to put myself first.

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