Tag Archives: Blackout Poetry

Wrecked – Manic Monday

MMWrecked.jpg

sorrowful am i…
the sand, your pillow
seaweed, your bed
candles, your watchmen
though you drowned
with you, I would go

~kat

A blackout poem for Manic Monday’s 3-Way Prompt: Word Prompt: Wrecked/Photo (above)/Song: Ailein Duinn (see lyrics with translation below w/word selections in BOLD).


Lyrics for Ailein Duinn by Celtic Spirit

Gura mise tha fo éislean,
Moch ‘s a’ mhadainn is mi ‘g éirigh,
Ò hì shiùbhlainn leat,
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhì,
Hì ri bhò hò rionn o ho,
Ailein duinn, ò hì shiùbhlainn leat.

Ma ‘s e cluasag dhut a’ ghainneamh,
Ma ‘s e leabaidh dhut an fheamainn,
Ò hì shiùbhlainn leat,
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhì,
Hì ri bhò hò rionn o ho,
Ailein duinn, ò hì shiùbhlainn leat.

Ma ‘s e ‘n t-iasg do choinnlean geala,
Ma ‘s e na ròin do luchd-faire,
Ò hì shiùbhlainn leat,
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhì,
Hì ri bhò hò rionn o ho,
Ailein duinn, ò hì shiùbhlainn leat.

Dh’òlainn deoch ge boil le càch e,
De dh’fhuil do choim ‘s tu ‘n déidh do bhathadh,
Ò hì shiùbhlainn leat,
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhì,
Hì ri bhò hò rionn o ho,
Ailein duinn, ò hì shiùbhlainn leat.

English Translation:

How sorrowful I am
When I rise early in the morning
Ò hì, I would go with you
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhì
Hì ri bhò hò rinn o ho
Brown-haired Alan, ò hì, I would go with you

If the sand be your pillow
If the seaweed be your bed
Ò hì, I would go with you
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhì
Hì ri bhò hò rinn o ho
Brown-haired Alan, ò hì, I would go with you

 

If the fish are your candles bright
If the seals are your watchmen
Ò hì, I would go with you
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhì
Hì ri bhò hò rinn o ho
Brown-haired Alan, ò hì, I would go with you

I would drink, though all would abhor
Of your heart’s blood after you were drowned
Ò hì, I would go with you
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhì
Hì ri bhò hò rinn o ho
Brown-haired Alan, ò hì, I would go with you


Manic Mondays – Silence

mmsilence

silence

darkness, softly creeping
left the still remains of
restless dreams ‘neath
the halo of a cold neon
light that split the people

people talking
without listening
no one dared
disturb the fools

you know silence
grows like raindrops
echoed in wells

the neon god flashed
its warning and the
prophets whispered

~kat

Another Manic Monday Challenge, Prompt Word: Silence; Prompt Song: The Sounds of Silence (Performed by Disturbed and written by Paul Simon) and the photo above edited (I grabbed a corner of the entire photo and dropped in my black-out poem based on the lyrics of the song (see below). Thanks to Laura for hosting. Join the challenge yourself by clicking HERE.


The Sound of Silence

Disturbed

Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

Fools, said I, you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sounds of silence

Songwriter: Paul Simon

The Sound of Silence lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

 

 

 


Confession – Manic Mondays

MMConfession
it’s been a while since
I could hold my head up
since I could call you
I can’t remember it all,
the consequences…
I can say that I wasn’t
myself…well
since I’ve gone and
fucked things up
and all that shit,
everything I can’t remember
all that I’ve gone and
fucked up again, again
I feel this …
just go away

~kat
A black out poem for Laura’s Manic Monday Challenge. The prompt word, “Confession” and the song prompt, “It’s Been a While” by Staind (Lyrics with black out (cross-outs) below)

 

“It’s Been A While”
by Staind

[Verse 1]
And it’s been awhile since I could hold my head up
And it’s been awhile since I first saw you
And it’s been awhile since I could stand on my own two feet again
And it’s been awhile since I could call you

[Chorus]
And everything I can’t remember
As fucked up as it all may seem
The consequences that I’ve rendered
I’ve stretched myself beyond my means

[Verse 2]
It’s been awhile since I can say that I wasn’t addicted
And it’s been awhile since I can say I love myself as well and
And it’s been awhile since I’ve gone and fucked things up just like I always do
And it’s been a while, but all that shit seems to disappear when I’m with you

[Chorus]
And everything I can’t remember
As fucked up as it all may seem
The consequences that I’ve rendered
I’ve gone and fucked things up again, again

[Bridge]
Why must I feel this way?
Just make this go away
Just one more peaceful day


Elegy for Harriet – NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 24

harrietsgarden

‘come see my garden’
she would say with
a twinkle in her eye
she was a cool, clear evening,
an arched gateway, flanked
by flower beds, eclectic,
like tiny worlds within worlds,
a great old tree, with hatchlings
chattering, a small corner nook
lost in faerie whisperings
such beauty, a gift, blessed
to have been, this creative, lovely
soul who crossed beyond the veil
tending a magnificent garden…
time feels sweeter imagining her there

~kat

For NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 24 Prompt: write an elegy – a poem typically written in honor or memory of someone dead. But we’d like to challenge you to write an elegy that has a hopefulness to it. I chose to use a eulogy that I had written for a neighbor a few years ago and to use “blacked out” words to create an elegy poem.

You can read the Eulogy HERE. Below, the blacked out version.

BlackoutElegy

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Melancholia – NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 19

For NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 19 Prompt: write a paragraph that briefly recounts a story, describes the scene outside your window, or even give directions from your house to the grocery store. Now try erasing words from this paragraph to create a poem or, alternatively, use the words of your paragraph to build a new poem. I used bold text to show you which words I lifted from the prose to create the poem that follows.

This prompt plays out like a deconstructed haibun, using free verse rather than a tanka or haiku/senryu. It also reminds me of doing “black/white out” poetry. At any rate it is a fun way to create a poem. This is my day in day out. Wrote this little break out on my lunch break…back to the grind in 3-2-1.

I spend my daylight hours in a cubicle under a dropped ceiling fitted with fluorescent lights. There is a vent above my head that grinds and blows intermittently throughout the day. I believe that the stale air blasting is laced with dust and black mold from the shadowy crawl spaces in the upper mezzanine partly because I burst into coughing and sneezing fits when the HVAC system kicks in. I heard that the company decided not to do a mold sweep of the building because it didn’t fit in with their ever shrinking budget. Such is life in corporate America where the shareholders and executives are king and the workers are paupers, slaving day in and day out, pinching pennies from the company’s bulging profits. I would likely go crazy, perhaps I’m already a bit mad, if it were not for the floor to ceiling picture windows that flank the outer wall of my cube. At least I can glance out briefly, when my nose is not buried in a spreadsheet and watch the world drift by.  It’s a small perk that makes coming to work at dawn and leaving at dusk, bearable. Sometimes, when I dream at night, I dream of dusty gray cubicles  but sometimes I dream in color.

daylight in a cubicle fitted
with fluorescent lights,
stale air laced with dust and
black mold burst, coughing,
sneezing mold sweep,
ever shrinking is life, where workers
slaving day in and day out, pinching
pennies, go crazy. windows flank
the outer wall. I glance out
briefly, watch the world drift;
sometimes, when I dream
I dream in color.

~kat

 

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