Fringe (n+1)

Fringe

you shouldn’t message with

you

a pair finished

I’ve seen people share about the N+& form (S+7), where you replace every noun in a poem by the seventh one from it in a dictionary. I tought it was slightly interesting but never gave it a try.

Today I watched a beautiful film-poem by Kirsten Luckins and it made me really curious about what this form has to offer. Luckily, the post provided a link to the N+7 machine, where lazy people like me can find out what it has to offer without too much effort.

I leafed through my statistics and chose a poem that has been read least of all, and fed it to the machine. It was a found poem to start with, so outside what I usually write. The results were surprisingly interesting.

I’m going to share the things I liked or create new poems from them. There’s enough to keep me going for weeks. Which would be rather boring to read I believe, so I’ll try to do it on a set day. Since it’s Friday today, I’ll probably call it #N+Friday for thos who want to follow the posts.

I’ve started with a really simple one today. This is the original fragment (so N+0):

Friendship,
you shouldn’t mess with
you
a painting finished.

I think it will be interesting to see how I can make the things the machine comes up with ‘mine’. I can simply copy and paste, or I can alter. Line breaks, punctuation, word order, or anything I feel that will make it ‘better’ or more mine.

The original poems I used for the poem were in Dutch. Then they were translated. Then I erased words to make it an erasure poem. Then I fed it to the machine… And now I play with what comes out. Never a dull moment when you like words!

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To-d’s door

The door to do
doesn’t differ
from the door to don’t
both have handles
the deceiving difference
is their paint

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I’ve seen Manja‘s Thursday doors so may times, that when I saw this beautiful door in Denmark I thought of her straight away. When I told her I had a door to share with her, she invited me to share it for Thursday doors. I hadn’t thought of that yet, but I liked the idea. I then had the choice between two blogs: here, where I share my poems. Or on the blog where I share posts as procrastination coach. I thought a poem would be more fun 🙂 I considered using an old poem that features doors, but I felt this beautiful door deserved a new poem.

This picture of the door is mine. I’ve found a picture of the full door here.

As a bonus, a song that came to my mind when I thought about the Dutch word for door, which is deur The refrain says: After every door you open, there’s another one you close. And that’s how you remain hidden, it’s never more than a tip of the veil that gets lifted. The songwriter who wrote the text is a wizzard with the Dutch language. My translation doesn’t do him justice.

Souled out

Salvation sold at seventy cents a second
Duress durably ditched

Salvation solves
Grab guaranteed grace now

Salvation sells
Seventy cents a soul

Sold

NaPoWriMo has finished, but the prompts have tendency to linger sometimes… Their influence can last days, months, or even years. There’s also a secret tradition of April 31st… Graeme Sandford might well be to blame for that.

Collision

A man walked into a metaphor
It wasn’t funny

On day 29: Bonus poem for the penultimate day of #Napowrimo. I tried to write a longer one that started with this opening sentence. That didn’t work. So this is it.

Today, on day 30: I’ve added a quick sketch made for today’s prompt, so that this can officially be my last poem for #NaPoWriMo. Our last prompt was a minimalist poem, and I fully recommend clicking on this article to discover what they are. Amazing. Weird. Difficult. Fun.

How I wish it was me who wrote this one, called Concrete Poem.

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Off the road

Don’t know where I am going
Don’t know where I have been
I’m on a road to nowhere
No destination to be seen

Don’t see a speed sign when there is one
Don’t know how to slow down
I’ve been on the road to nowhere
From the day I left our town

When I wake up in the morning
I get myself a beer
I know the future is uncertain
But the end cannot be near
I’m on a road to nowhere
living in high gear

I know what I am knowing
I can’t say what I have seen
It make me take this road to nowhere
I’m not who I have been

Here on this dark desert highway
If I ever see a shimmering light
and I smell the smell of colitas
I will stop for the night

If they dance in the courtyard,
then – and only then
I will stay off off this road to nowhere
And I’ll never get back again