Tag Archives: thought

Found Poetry: Is it Beginning?

Okay, so found poetry is cool.

I thought I’d give it a go, using the lyrics of the Beatles song Tomorrow Never Knows. Because I am a huge Beatles nerd, and it was playing while I pondered scouring my bookshelves for something to cobble together. Maybe it is more coincidence than design.

Also, this is harder to do than it looks.

Is it Beginning?

It is all play:
Existence is the game;
Hate and love and ignorance;
Beginning, end; Living, dead.

May you see meaning within
The shining thought,
The knowing void.

Float downstream,
Not dying, not being,
Knowing everyone.

Relax. It is not surrender.
Turn down your mind,
Mourn the dying, and
Love the living.

© Bridget Noonan, 2012.

I don’t know how anyone else does it, but a pencil and a pad of paper seem to work wonders with this sort of thing- one page with the original work, one with your derivative work. Though I don’t recommend crossing things out on your original work, because if you change things, eraser tends to muck it all up. The trials and tribulations of artistry! 😛

Edit: I feel a little bit bad for those words I didn’t end up using. They look so forlorn on that abandoned yellow page.



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Travelling Alone

I used to ride the Greyhound bus to Kitchener and Waterloo to visit my sister, and my friends from university. This, after a bit of tweaking, was how I occasionally felt in a bus full of strangers watching the world go by. It needs some more work but it’ll keep.

Travelling Alone

Watch the busiest highway in Canada:
It is dizzying, and tiring.
Where are they going in such a hurry?

The generic rented truck headed eastbound:
A man moving his only son back home
All the while disappointed that he dropped out.
‘Should have learned a trade, something useful,
Like your old man; take up plumbing.’

The westbound green van:
A gaggle of girls head into the city
Their first shopping trip downtown.
‘This is so great, turn up the radio Leanne.
I hope we can find decent parking.’

The red car taking the north offramp:
A tired grandmother on her third cigarette
Absentmindedly speaking on her cellphone.
‘Yes, I just got off work. I’m headed to the store.
I’ll pick up some dinner for you and your brother.’

The fancies occupy my mind so I can forget
Just how sad I am when I travel alone.

© Bridget Noonan, 2008, 2011.

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The Power of a Word

I’m a pretty firm believer in the power of language to shape life. Sometimes it gets a little crowded in my head, and things like this poem happen.

The Power of a Word

hasten onward
moving talking breathing
thinking always thinking
thinking think think think

the texture of words
invoking their meaning through
enunciation so crucial-

not flat as words on a page;
it’s a trap it’s a trap it’s a
trap it’s a trap it is

eyes closed breathing even
impeccable picture of repose
yet not asleep;
deep in thought perhaps
absorbing all else through
deprivation of sight
lost in a private world

hasten on, yes it is time
you’ll be late, late! for a very important
thinking thinking think think

mentally framing and rephrasing-
de-liberating, un-freeing-
trapping thoughts by giving them words.

think-think doublethink
the power of the mind to delude oneself
is that what this is?

the power of a word
what is the point in
thinking always thinking
think think Think.

© Bridget Noonan, 2009, 2011.


Filed under Poetry