Tag Archives: black out poem

two worlds

two worlds

there is
darkness there,
faded forests
silent fields…

here, a little
ever green is
where unfading
flowers hum

~kat


I have missed Manic Monday’s Three-Way challenges and finding poetry amidst the lyrics of the featured songs. So I am challenging myself to “find” poetry in some of the greatest poems of all time. You can see a list of them HERE at the Best Poems Encyclopedia. Starting us off is this gem by Emily Dickinson called, “There is Another Sky”. (My found poetry, aka blackout poem, is shown below by the bold text.)

There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
rithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!



Witches in Season – Manic Monday’s 3-Way Prompt

witch

Witches in Season

I look different…
it’s so strange
must be the season
yeah, must be
do you think me strange?
every witch must be…
must be, you think
I got to pick up running
the season of the witch
must be the look I look

`kat

Another blackout poem for Manic Monday’s Three-Way Prompt: Photo: above/Word: Witch/Song: Season of the Witch by Donovan (below).


Season of the Witch by Donovan

When I look out my window
Many sights to see
And when I look in my window
So many different people to be
That it’s strange, so strange

You’ve got to pick up every stitch
You’ve got to pick up every stitch
You’ve got to pick up every stitch
Mmm, must be the season of the witch
Must be the season of the witch, yeah
Must be the season of the witch

When I look over my shoulder
What do you think I see?
Some other cat looking over
His shoulder at me
And he’s strange, very very very strange

You’ve got to pick up every stitch
You’ve got to pick up every stitch
Beatniks are out to make it rich
Oh no, must be the season of the witch
Must be the season of the witch, yeah
Must be the season of the witch

You’ve got to pick up every stitch
The rabbits running in the ditch
Beatniks are out to make it rich
Oh no must be the season
Oh no, must be the season of the witch
Must be the season of the witch
Must be the season of the witch

When I look out my window
What do you think I see?
And when I look in my window
So many different people to be
It’s strange, sure is strange
You’ve got to pick up every stitch
You’ve got to pick up every stitch
The rabbits running in the ditch
Oh no, must be the season
Oh no, must be the season
Oh no, must be the season of the witch
Must be the season of the witch, yeah
Must be the season of the witch
When I look, when I look


The Phoenix

 

phoenix

i will vanish;
the flesh will die
my hands, my skin
and bone, it feels
like hell, so real…
i say, enough
my scars, my heart,
a touch of blood,
your opus that
melts to nothing,
beware, beware
out of the ash
i rise like air

~kat

A Black Out Poem for MindLoveMisery’sMenagerie Sunday Writing Promptbased on Sylvia Plath’s Poem, “Lady Lazarus” as seen with bold (Black Out) text below.


Lady Lazarus by Sylvia Plath

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it——

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?——

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanishin a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
Whata trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot——
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
Myknees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
Tolast it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feelsreal.
Iguess you could sayI’ve a call.

It’seasy enough to do it in a cell.
It’s easy enough to do it and stay put.
It’sthe theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

‘A miracle!’
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart——
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash—
You poke andstir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there——

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I risewith my red hair
And I eat men like air.

 


Scars – Manic Monday

scars

scars

she wants to be
unnoticed, an image
sculpted deeper, her
pain cut away, ‘cause
the dark knows you
and the heart could
change its scars to
beautiful…she dreams
to be nothing and
everything, she fades
away, goes deeper, the
mirror helps you see a bit
clearer, the light within,
a hope waiting, and a
beautiful heart, no scars
there, waiting in the dark…

you know you could change
the world to beautiful

~kat

A BlackOut Poem for Manic Monday’s Three-Way Prompt Challenge: Prompt Word: Scars/Song: Scars to your beautiful – Alessia Cara/Photo: as seen above. The full text of the lyrics of the song is listed below with text lifted for today’s poem in bold.


Scars to Your Beautiful
Alessia Cara

She just wants to be beautiful
She goes unnoticed, she knows no limits
She craves attention, she praises an image
She prays to be sculpted by the sculptor
Oh, she don’t see the light that’s shining
Deeper than the eyes can find it
Maybe we have made her blind
So she tries to cover up her pain and cut her woes away
‘Cause cover girls don’t cry after their face is made

But there’s a hope that’s waiting for you in the dark
You should know(s) you’re beautiful just the way you are
And you don’t have to change a thing, the world could change its heart
No scars to your beautiful, we’re stars and we’re beautiful
Oh-oh, oh-oh
And you don’t have to change a thing, the world could change its heart
No scars to your beautiful, we’re stars and we’re beautiful

She has dreams to be an envy, so she’s starving
You know, cover girls eat nothing
She says beauty is pain and there’s beauty in everything
What’s a little bit of hunger?
I could go a little while longer, she fades away
She don’t see her perfect, she don’t understand she’s worth it
Or that beauty goes deeper than the surface
Oh, oh
So to all the girls that’s hurting
Let me be your mirror, helps you see a little bit clearer
The light that shines within

There’s a hope that’s waiting for you in the dark
You should know you’re beautiful just the way you are
And you don’t have to change a thing, the world could change its heart
No scars to your beautiful, we’re stars and we’re beautiful

Oh-oh, oh-oh
And you don’t have to change a thing, the world could change its heart
No scars to your beautiful, we’re stars and we’re beautiful

No better you than the you that you are (no better you than the you that you are)
No better life than the life we’re living (no better life than the life we’re living)
No better time for your shine, you’re a star (no better time for your shine, you’re a star)
Oh, you’re beautiful, oh, you’re beautiful

And there‘s a hope that’s waiting for you in the dark
You
should know you’re beautiful just the way you are
And you don’t have to change a thing, the world could change its heart
No scars to your beautiful, we’re stars and we’re beautiful
Oh-oh, oh-oh
And you don’t have to change a thing, the world could change its heart
No scars to your beautiful, we’re stars and we’re beautiful

Songwriters: Alessia Caracciolo / Andrew Wansel / Coleridge Tillman / Warren Felder
Scars to Your Beautiful lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

 


Boondock Baby

boondock

Boondock Baby

my heart and soul
feel it still, like a warm
wind blowing where
the one thing I know
about living, love, working
hard, having just enough…
this is who I am, no shame,
born on a Saturday night,
raised on five-card poker,
Sunday, say a prayer for me

~kat

A black out poem for Manic Monday’s Three-Way Prompt. Prompt Word: Boondocks; Photo (above); Song: Boondocks by Little Big Town (below). I took some liberty to make the poem work this week. The word raised was lifted from a previous section, but it worked for the second to last line.


Boondocks

I feel no shame
I’m proud of where I came from
I was born and raised in the boondocks
One thing I know
No matter where I go
I keep my heart and soul in the boondocks

And I can feel
That muddy water running through my veins
And I can hear that lullaby of a midnight train
It sings to me and it sounds familiar

I feel no shame
I’m proud of where I came from
I was born and raised in the boondocks
One thing I know
No matter where I go
I keep my heart and soul in the boondocks

And I can taste
That honeysuckle and it’s still so sweet
When it grows wild
On the banks down at old camp creek
Yeah, and it calls to me like a warm wind blowing

I feel no shame
I’m proud of where I came from
I was born and raised in the boondocks
One thing I know
No matter where I go
I keep my heart and soul in the boondocks

It’s where I learned about living
It’s where I learned about love
It’s where I learned about working hard
And having a little was just enough

It’s where I learned about Jesus
And knowing where I stand
You can take it or leave it, this is me
This is who I am

Give me a tin roof
A front porch and a gravel road
And that’s home to me
It feels like home to me

I feel no shame
I’m proud of where I came from
I was born and (raised) in the boondocks
One thing I know
No matter where I go
I keep my heart and soul in the boondocks

I keep my heart and soul in the boondocks

You get a line, I’ll get a pole
We’ll go fishing in the craw fish hole
Five-card poker on a Saturday night
Church on Sunday morning

You get a line, I’ll get a pole
We’ll go fishing in the craw fish hole
(Down in the boondocks)
Five-card poker on a Saturday night
Church on Sunday morning

You get a line, I’ll get a pole
We’ll go fishing in the craw fish hole
(Down in the boondocks)
Five-card poker on a Saturday night
Church on Sunday morning

Say a little prayer for me

Songwriters: James Lee Westbrook / Karen Fairchild / Kimberly Roads / Kimberly Schlapman / Kimberly B. Roads / Phillip Sweet / Wayne Kirkpatrick

Boondocks lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Downtown Music Publishing

 


%d bloggers like this: