Tag Archives: Joanna Lee

The Found Poetry Collaboration #2, featuring: Lydia Allison, Kate Garrett, James Gidding, Joanna Lee

24 Mar

Words

The Found Poetry Collaboration 2014

For the next 4 weeks poets Lydia Allison, Kate Garrett, James Giddings and Joanna Lee will be writing 1 piece of found poetry per fortnight:

A found poem is created when words in an existing piece of writing are lifted from that writing and rearranged to create a greater emotional response. A found poem is shaped from a collection of words or phrases found in one text or a selection of texts to shape an entirely new poem.  

The poets are free to use any texts they like, and I throw in one found text of my choice per fortnight just to mix it up a bit. For the Week 2 poem I chose a section of a  letter from a former patient of Jung quoted in Anthony Storr’s Solitude (you’ll find the section at the bottom of the post, should you wish to read it). 

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on the pathology of nihilism

by Joanna Lee

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with clammy skin the heart cascades
much as a mass of cold knowledge
falls from the gut: septic, humoral,

jugular; a clot of air in the lungs blue-
highlighted with the less
clinically obvious algorithms

of life. i titrate swelling
mortality with strokes of fever,
and ought accept the loss i was,

a distal necessary pulse
with a dropped
mask and muscled jaw.

forever is a bedside curve
of sun and shadow, not
as i wanted it to be but

dissolved to a heavier,
taller, younger equilibration.
only fools demand nothing.

i could never have imagined
our thrust was the resuscitation
of ordinary activities such

as breathing, to force
reality like a balloon
into the femoral vein,

precisely keeping
the bleeding quiet but
biochemically alive.

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Text from

part of a letter from a patient of Carl Jung, quoted in Solitude by Anthony Storr and Fundamentals of Surgery by John E. Niederhuber, chapter 15, “Shock and Resuscitation,” by Adam Siever, MD

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Out of evil

by Lydia Allison

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much good has come to me
quiet, attentive, accepting

reality – they are, and not to be
such as could before.
When we accepted things they overpowered us.

I intend to play in this way accepting everything.
What I was:
force, thought.

Keeping nothing remaining,
taking things as I want them,
doing all this – unusual knowledge,

unusual powers I have imagined.
I always thought in some way or other
to be true towards the game

of life – receptive whatever –
good, bad, sun, shadow – forever,
my nature side’s alive.

Fool! How I tried
to go according to the way
I ought to.

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*Created solely from the words from Jung’s letter.

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I’m the girl who is lost in space

by James Giddings

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forever fading away by keeping quiet,
by accepting reality and taking things
as they are: some party someplace, or

some picnic in the park, the Soviet Union.
Ideas and feelings are fast and frequent
as shooting stars. The fast ideas

are far too fast, and unusual knowledge
has come to me; the right words and gestures
are suddenly there like the Cheshire cat:

the warm artificial smile, clownish curve,
the kind you see on villains in Disney movies.
You find interests in uninteresting people.

I intend to play the game of life – sun and shadow
forever alternating – everything more alive.
You never knew those caves were there.

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Texts:

Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation
Kay Redfield Jamison, An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness
Part of a letter from a patient of Carl Jung, quoted in Solitude by Anthony Storr

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Transmitters

by Kate Garrett

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unusual knowledge
overpowered me
in darkness –

receptive to evil
i can’t tell
the difference.

sun/shadow
good/bad
alternating forever

in a cage
with a wire screen
hallucinate effigies

to starve your beauty.
beware the first
principle of anti-choice:

bland words, no life,
accepting torn sex
as your birthright.

 

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Poem – title included – created solely from words found in an extract from Solitude by Anthony Storr, and the songs ‘No Love Lost’ by Joy Division & ‘PCP’ by Manic Street Preachers.

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…….

 To find out more about Lydia, Kate, James and Joanna please visit:

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Lydia Allison:

http://lydiaallison.wordpress.com/

https://twitter.com/LydiaAllison13

Kate Garrett:

http://www.kategarrettwrites.co.uk/

https://twitter.com/kate_garrett

James Giddings:

https://jamesgiddings.jux.com/

https://twitter.com/giddingstweets

Joanna Lee:

http://the-tenth-muse.com/

https://twitter.com/la_poetessa

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Lydia, Kate, James and Joanna will be back on Tuesday 8th April  with some more great found poetry. Tomorrow, you’ll find Poet Lauren Coulson’s final poem in her nest series (with audio).  Thank you for your interest. 

If you missed out on the first round of found poems you can find them here.

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*Full text of the piece I sent the foundlings:

Out of evil, much good has come to me. By keeping quiet, repressing nothing, remaining attentive, and by accepting reality-taking things as they are, and not as I wanted them to be- by doing all this, unusual knowledge has come to me, and unusual powers as well, such as I could never have imagined before. I always thought that when we accepted things they overpowered us in some way or other. This turns out not to be true at all, and it is only by accepting them that one can assume an attitude towards them. So now I intend to play the game of life, being receptive to whatever comes to me, good or bad, sun and shadow forever alternating, and, in this way, also accepting my own nature with its positive and negative sides. Thus everything becomes more alive to me. What a fool I was. How I tried to force everything to go according to the way I thought it ought to! (195)

The Found Poetry Collaboration #1, featuring: Lydia Allison, Kate Garrett, James Gidding, Joanna Lee

10 Mar

Words

The Found Poetry Collaboration 2014

For the next 8 weeks poets Lydia Allison, Kate Garrett, James Giddings and Joanna Lee will be writing 1 piece of found poetry per fortnight:

A found poem is created when words in an existing piece of writing are lifted from that writing and rearranged to create a greater emotional response. A found poem is shaped from a collection of words or phrases found in one text or a selection of texts to shape an entirely new poem.  

The poets are free to use any texts they like, and I throw in one found text of my choice per fortnight just to mix it up a bit. For the Week 1 poem I chose a section of text from W.G. Sebald’s The Ring’s Of Saturn (you’ll find the section at the bottom of the post, should you wish to read it). 

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…….rings

by Lydia Allison

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walls hung with copper masks,
hand-coloured and perhaps untouched

………….wear it: bankers, investors,
……………………people who believe in symbolism 

………….plaster blotches moth-eaten
………….a ghost bowed by sorrows

colourless, pink, blue,
………….green, champagne,

there are moments, through rooms
sure of the shores or the heart

…………..the symbolism is clear:
there is only one

…………..the dark continent.
…………..say which decade for ages co-exist

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note: I have used The Rings of Saturn text, along with texts from three sites about wedding ring stone meanings. Here are the links:

http://www.beau-coup.com/blog/wedding-attire/the-meaning-behind-colored-gemstone-engagement-rings

http://www.ringswithlove.com/gemstones/gemstone-names-colors-meanings-characteristics/

http://www.myloveweddingring.com/engagement-ring-guide.html

—-

On Tea & Sympathy

by Kate Garrett

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The walls are hung
with rich violet hues.
The Queen of Tulips
fills copper kettles:
green tea, freshly
brewed by an artist,
calms your senses.

The exquisite flowers,
mottled with scarlet
& purple blotches
lift your spirits
into a realm hand-
coloured by Modernism –

a country house
for healing,
some kind of no-man’s-land,
luscious, depending
on which blossoms
the bees have buzzed.

The yellowish air
filling the dark night
brings your fantasies alive –
the Emblem of Love,
a ghost bowed by sorrows,
enveloping you, helps
the ages co-exist.

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*Written using only words from the text provided (extract from The Rings of Saturn by W.G. Sebald) and various scent descriptions on twelve boxes of Tulasi incense sticks (see photo).

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incense found poetry

The Rings

by James Giddings

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After what feels like two thousand years
in the heart of the dark continent, I find you
under the shores of the Arctic Ocean. 
I dig
and dig until the mottled, moth-eaten fur
of your stuffed polar bear springs up in its red felt
African mask; the coloured faces of artist’s portraits
yellowish with bedpan-relief. You must have passed
through the rooms to heaven, or to a country house
in Suffolk. You ask me to stay and no one can say
which decade or century it is; I know this is the afterlife
your body, half a wedding-suit, lost in the shadows.

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*Found poem. Created from bits of the following:
The Rings of Saturn by W.G. Sebald
Salmon by Pascale Petit
The Second Husband by Pascale Petit

notes on cardiac physiology

by Joanna Lee

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hung with bedpans and hussars’ sabres the human heart
has a discriminative touch.

mottled scarlet, it routes a solitary pathway
across continents, Oceans, losses.

the profound shores of forehead, scalp tongue
are excitatory ghosts bowed by sorrows,

safari trophies that include the entire body
of its dark.

The stuffed polar bear at its entrance stands yards tall.

it receives different blood by moment, tastes
red of serotonin, is spared no-man’s-land

by the lacrimal tearing of vessels.
it is intractable. it is artist. it is acute,

an arctic gag reflex with a visceral
trajectory but no position sense.

known to be a major circuit,
its fibers course through copper battles,

and may produce pain.

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*Found from:

 Neuroanatomy: An Atlas of Structures, Sections, and Systems, Fifth Edition, Sections 7-3 to 7-8: Sensory Pathways. by Duane E. Haines and The Rings of Saturn by W.G. Sebald.

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 To find out more about Lydia, Kate, James and Joanna please visit:

.

Lydia Allison:

http://lydiaallison.wordpress.com/

https://twitter.com/LydiaAllison13

Kate Garrett:

http://www.kategarrettwrites.co.uk/

https://twitter.com/kate_garrett

James Giddings:

https://jamesgiddings.jux.com/

https://twitter.com/giddingstweets

Joanna Lee:

http://the-tenth-muse.com/

https://twitter.com/la_poetessa

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Lydia, Kate, James and Joanna will be back on Monday 24th March with some more great found poetry. I’ve sent them their text just a moment ago. Tomorrow, you’ll find Millfield School’s first FreeSpace with a range of Short story openings from their pupils. Thank you for your interest. 

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*If you want to see the piece of text I sent the foundlings. Here it is:

The walls are hung with copper kettles, bedpans, hussars’ sabres. African masks, spears, safari trophies, hand-coloured engravings of Boer War battles- Battles of Pieters Hill and Relief of Ladysmith; A Bird’s Eye View from an Observation Balloon-and a number of family portraits painted perhaps some time between 1920 and 1960 by an artist not untouched by Modernism, the plaster coloured faces of the sitters mottled with scarlet and purple blotches. The stuffed polar bear in the entrance hall stands yards tall. With its yellowish and moth-eaten fur, it resembles a ghost bowed by sorrows. There are indeed moments, as one passes through the rooms open to the public at Somerlyton, when one is not quite sure whether one is in a country house in Suffolk or some kind of no-man’s-land, on the shores of the Arctic Ocean or in the heart of the dark continent. Nor can one readily say which decade or century it is, for many ages are superimposed here and co-exist. (35-36)

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