Category: found poetry

Categories
found poetry poetry

Worse neighbours than a church

Borrowing fragments from two women talking loudly in a library.

Talking pet shop next door lovely book shop huge thinking somewhere else any busier so many customers I volunteer on the way they ask you questions I get my bus pass certainly not defeats the object could you do (a hit?). April it’s been dead quiet twenty-one forty-nine marauding people destroy your rest don’t go there to run around not the fastest along the front there must be if you’re here there isn’t the crematorium not many houses go on get off. Crumbs what a shame.

Born in the hall.

I knew there was something wrong your car was in the street with the doors wide open.

Yadder yadder yadder.

I was very keen not to have one I would wiggle along Great Western five minutes to get there too late a journey is fine unless you lock out the window the left wiggle drops off to regulate the hospital not done only once takes so long parked felt bad taking a patient of course the medical students always remember.

Placenta.

Something can’t quite can’t remember fifty miles multi-story (see what I did there?) they’re usually lying it’s not clear call centre hell no evidence oh no no record of that oh my word awake early dozed cat half-five party time (woman A makes cat noises) all facilities available must be hard never did last summer honestly usually about seven very gently on my nose actually asleep no claws worked out the other day it just got (woman A laughs) wow a bit over attached just give me the drugs literally drive in vultures going around around around around the smallest spaces.

Fourteen.

Go in frankly you go in yourself almost completely blind not just round the corner next Monday one night don’t hospitals enjoy urgency (woman B checks phone) doesn’t know where he is twenty-one past my three in the morning remember parking last park last year the whole flipping lot out of hours doesn’t have accidents in the house (woman B checks phone) we don’t have that issue wouldn’t mind if you yeah yeah yeah no it’s not unreasonable that’s the thing but I’m not that’s your problem changing light lovely coffee little bit shortbread wee bit she walks he walks out lovely pubs how the crows fly lovely lovely lovely opposite the kitchen.

Dogs in beds.

It’s a bit you know cats are clean I don’t know not all shower the dog merging nice walk in the postcodes when we were younger still on the go God knows what probably the biggest on the lead very close others to be fair I mean a small child I do remember I remember single carriages oh my goodness sorry catching (woman B yawns) just a single bed quick useful in that bottom terrible cough just after new year lovely cosy a bit of a hike that bed in an uproar so frequent honestly bypass sometimes advertises think mmm (woman B receives incoming text).

(Interrupted by librarian scrubbing desks).

Guess they want to wherever whenever foreign even English speakers which bus should you get oh my word biting because being picked up just coming the way the wind shuts your eyes yes yes yes that night vents yet almost we don’t either much easier dehydrate they were annoying me you weren’t were you funny hot water (woman A checks phone) bottle your feet fancy feet warmers push into them plugged in obviously cold cold shoes cold feet old fashioned work just the first time don’t use. (Church clock chimes across the street). Bells.

Would always never noticed until now funeral service (woman B checks phone) just randomly peal funeral there are worse neighbours than a church side streets woman crying you can’t wont don’t understand drove the hearse message them can’t can’t can’t can’t pissed understand, understand?

Image – St John’s Church, Edinburgh.

Categories
found poetry

Beckham Wipes Pays

has joined paying seen looking paused shown bowed looked walked pictured wearing paused bared queued wearing joined saying thought coming going speaking was speaking called told meant can speak able meet stood wore had sang was meant did told was be are hear was took were was able have be remember been.

has queued pay will visit been pictured joining viewing cut pictured joining grieving wore opted wore stood lying-in-state died known filming making wearing seen looking waited paying said saw feel meant inspired comforted served have known loved are were forced pause reached read has be paused are sorry snaked predicted appeared paid queuing

Picture credit – Avalon.red (cropped from a picture in The Sun online 16 September 2022)

Categories
found poetry poetry

making history

emotional or beloved or selfless and historic and solemnly and remarkable though dedicated though young though precious but unsurpassed but selfless but faithfully after greatest after kind after touchingly although beloved although moving although emotional before good before golden before inspiring if deep if unparalleled if solemn once treasured once beloved once deeply when historic when dedicated when public so joyous so unstinting so reassuring until difficult until long until inspiring that deep that unparalleled that everlasting as infectious as beloved as esteemed since grand since passionate since greatest

Categories
found poetry poetry

Abba and Federici have a cosy chat about misogyny

We’ve been talking about women. Taking a chance. Loose promiscuous women. All of their sadnesses, our sadnesses, captured in that conversation. I said thank you for the music. He said women were demonic beings. It was stupid and naïve thinking. Especially coming from Caliban. At some point he took the stage, the pulpit, called us all a bunch of wrinkly rodents. Why did it have to be me, I said, knowing me, knowing you? He said you could be frosty sometimes, an unusually diplomatic recollection of the atmosphere in those days.

I stood up. I said, let me be nothing if within the compass of myself I do not find ephemeral magic. (That digital recording cut out all the hiss.) I sat down. We all admitted we’d become tired. We were worse than any other woman, helping the corporates destroy the fruits of wombs. We cried to dream again.

Next up was the real gold on the visitors. The hunt for visitors was a turning point in women’s lives. Torture and terror were used to force us, the conversationalists, to deliver other names. Did we deliver? We did. How could we resist? Dum Dum Diddle. Be not afraid, we said to those we landed in the fray. It was a strange and strangely irresistible conversation about totalitarianism. Any man could now destroy a woman by declaring she was a conversationalist. And so he did. They do. Dobbed us in to the Met. Who let the man in? Who’ll let the women out? 

When you go, when they slam the door, be not afraid, the isle is full of sounds and sweet airs that give delight. They promise it won’t hurt.

Categories
diary found poetry

29 December, 2021

Today’s entry is a found poem harvested from a leaflet entitled ‘Help Yourself to Health – City of Edinburgh Book Prescription Booklist.’ I was given the information after I was run over by a lorry driver.

anger manual

for those

spoiling themselves

with flashes

of ill-judged regret

numb, shut off

weigh memories of

sanity and subsequently

overcome trauma

and light

sensible body fit

a healthy mind

stretch, strengthen

and sabotage

your tap

your power

chances are changes

mood is clinical

cognitive most effective

step by step

on prescription

or available

Categories
found poetry how to guide

How to tie a lie

Tying a lie is one of the most essential skills in any man’s life – here at Lies R Us we understand different knots can at first seem difficult to get your head around. From windsor knots to trinity knots, knowing when and how to wear different knots can be stressful and confusing.

At Lies R Us, we’re here to help! With these clear and simple instructions you can become an expert in next to no time. Put down the clip on lie and explore three of the most popular and impressive ways to tie your lie.

How to knot your lies

When it comes to choosing a knot for your lie, there are a multitude of options depending on the level of formality or style you want to achieve. The windsor knot, grantchester knot and trinity knot remain three of the most popular options.

The windsor knot

Arguably the most popular of all the lie knots, the windsor knot is perfect for both day to day office and Zoom wear or special occasions. As well as being incredibly versatile, the traditional windsor knot is also one of the easiest to pick up.

  1. Start with the wide side of your lie on your right.
  2. Take the wide side over the narrow side and turn it back underneath.
  3. Bring it up, through, and down towards the left hand side of the knot.
  4. Pass the wide part over the front of the knot.
  5. Then pass up and through the neck loop.
  6. Finally pass it down through the front of the knot and tighten.

The grantchester knot

Once you’ve mastered the windsor knot, the grantchester knot is a great option to move onto for your lie. Slightly more complex, this knot creates an incredibly stylish and sophisticated look for any formal affair such as a wedding, christening or formal party. You’ll probably want to invest in a new, fancier lie to make this knot worth the effort.

  1. Start with the lie on backwards with the stitching facing up. The thin end of the lie should be three buttons down.
  2. Cross the thinner end of the lie over the top.
  3. Go over the top of the lie twice with the thicker end of the lie.
  4. Pull the thicker end under and over through the neck loop, pulling it towards the left hand side and straight across under the forming knot.
  5. Now, back over the front face of the knot, and under back through the neck loop, pulling it down through the front of the knot, and pulling the lie tight.

The trinity knot

If you’re confident with your knot tying skills and really want to impress, opt for the tricky trinity knot. As one of the more complex lie knots, practice makes perfect with this one, but once you have it down the trinity knot guarantees to make an impression! Finding a lie worthy of this knot will not be easy. Be discrete and, it goes without saying, ensure any minutes of lie discussions are unfortunately deleted.

  1. Pinch the thicker end of the lie about five inches below the colourrow and fold underneath the thinner side.
  2. Fold the thinner end over the pinched up part and pull up towards the neck loop and out.
  3. Now place it back next to the thicker end of the lie in the position where you first started going directly under and across where the knot is forming.
  4. Pull it back over the front of the knot then up and through the neck loop and over.
  5. Go back across the front of the knot then back underneath diagonally, then directly through the main part of the knot.
  6. Nearly there! Finally, put the smallest part of the lie down then back up through the top part of the knot, pull tight and you’re done.

Categories
found poetry poetry

Last Words

Protecting them, their protective wall. No regrets. It was there he found his father, waiting for him on the shoreline, as if they’d never been apart. He would write from Auckland. She called in her soul to come and see. There is something to be said for the quicker death. That’s where you’re headed, he told them, that’s the way out of this hole. Mrs God rolled her eyes, taking her identical sandwich and pickles back indoors where the afternoon stretched like a cat between naps. – all sleeping the deep deep sleep of England from which I sometimes fear we will never wake till we are jerked out of it by the roar of bombs. Night and day. This is our place. It fucking better be. He loved Big Brother. And, to our bitter grief, with a smile and in silence, he died, a gallant gentleman. In such an hour one stands up and speaks to the ages, to history, and all creation. Allow me. Who would exchange these for the pallid couple in the Garden of Eden. Experimentalists perhaps, do after all stand out from the normal mass of human error. Just like playing boules. Excuse me. Shoot, create situations. Sorry. – everything I know is gone, and all that remains is the call of gulls and the slow insistent motion of the waters, slow and far away and barely audible, turning on the shore and on my mind. Farewell. Perhaps by the very end of his life, in 1880, he had come to believe that a people, a nation, do not create itself according to its best ideas, but is shaped by other forces, of which it has little knowledge. My mother. Bless you. Brushing against each other, they both knew that they should do that only once or twice, and only when  no one was watching them. No, you go first. Jesus isn’t real. And he will not know it happened long ago, and had merely been waiting patiently for him to notice. Can I get past. That it’d all be fine. But he did not move a muscle, not until the objects around him, that had so far been merely listening, started up a nervous conversation (the sideboard gave a creak, a saucepan rattled, a china plate slid back into the rack) at which point… the desire of the moth for the star: the innocence, the virginity, the graves not opened yet for gold, the mine not broken with sledges. “It was delicious.” Could you excuse me. And the last sound we hear is of the Folly Brook, chuckling on past the Old Oak Pool, as it has done for a thousand, thousand cuckoo years, on its long journey to the distant sea. Bye, bye, you say goodbye, no you, I did, hang up then, no you hang up, no you, bye, bye.

This piece is (mostly) made up of the last lines of random books piled high on a low table in my south facing living room.

Categories
found poetry poetry

I’ve been away for a while

The cover of this issue is a painting by Tom Hammick. She was French. I’ve been away for a while. I left Fife and went to live in Glasgow when I was eighteen. The court settled for damages. In the middle of this the course of our life, I stopped and everybody got out of their car. Could you tell us about the race that’s documented in the photos? In the spring, about two weeks into the coronavirus lockdown, I found myself thinking about cholera. In Sri Lanka – this was 2017 – between a golden temple and a shop selling car seats, we found a steel-roofed shack, with, strung across the entrance and the makeshift walls, countless laminated photographs of missing people. Just at the time of the ceasefire between Iraq and Iran in 1988, an infantry platoon discovered that they were in a minefield. On 4th January 2020, a few days after the New Year celebrations, I returned from a trip around Sicily to my girlfriend’s parents’ home in Pizzighettone, sixty kilometres or so south east of Milan. Beside the rainy hog shed, the county food bank forklifts pallets of old bread, blue with deep mold and tints of February. In the first of Gus Palmer’s photographs of the morgue at the Greenwich Islamic Centre I can’t find the horizontal. In the wood I hear the beautiful call of a bird I do not know. When my father died, his sister Mary  – his twin – sent me an email. I paid him no heed at all.

This found work was produced by taking the first line from each piece in Granta 154, and finishing it with the last line in the last piece. The image is a cropped photograph of Tom Hammick’s painting from the front cover.

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