Appolinaire.
Lorca.
Charles Simic.
John Cage.
David Antin.

Found poems?
random generations?

perhaps try moving away for the first person and towards the practises of the dadaist.

the store the adverbial errors hopefully from pitty test. (every fourth word on every page.)

the bible, the modern day bible (twilight, harry potter, james herbert.)!

Skies are crying, she is watching
Catching tear drops in her hands
Only silence, as it's ending
Like they never had a chance

Do they have to
Make her feel like
There's nothing left of her?

They can take everything she has.
They can break everything she is.
Like she's made of glass.
Like she's made of paper.
Go on and try to tear her down.
She'll be rising from the ground
Like a skyscraper.
Like a flower.

As the smoke clears, she awakens
And untangles them from her.
Would it make them feel better
To watch her while she bleeds?

All her windows are still broken
But she's standing on her own feet.

They can take everything she has.

They can break everything she is.

Like she's made of glass.

Like she's made of paper.

Go on and try to tear her down.

She'll be rising from the ground

Like a skyscraper.

Like a flower.

Go run, run, run.

She's gonna stay right here and watch them disappear.

Yeah oh

Go run, run, run

Yeah, it's a long way down

But she is closer to the clouds up here.

They can take everything she has.

They can break everything she is.

Like she's made of glass.

Like she's made of paper.

Go on and try to tear her down.

She'll be rising from the ground

Like a skyscraper.

Like a flower.

Like a skyscraper.

Like a flower.

Slug (and Demi Lovato's Skyscraper with lyrics changed)

They. By slug.

They see.
They hear.
They smell.
They taste.
They feel.
They think.
They want.
They need.
They speak.
They react.
They walk.
They reach.
They. They. They. They.

I'm sitting here crying.
Wondering.

I'm sitting here crying.
Thinking.

I'm sitting here crying.
Crying.

What has my life come to?
I'm sitting here crying.


Slug

I can't pretend anymore.
It needs to stop. The thoughts are so painful to overcome. Yet they still exist.
I suppose I was strong till now. I lasted longer than I thought I ever would.
But I don't want my best friends back.
They always hurt me. Even though I know thats why I love them. I still need them in my life just not like this. I want to be able to have them around me without sniggering passers by annoying me.
I can still hear you under your breathe!
Never again, please.


Slug

It's like a bullet in the head.
It's like a slit on the wrist.
It's like a pill down the throat.
It's like a rope around the neck.
It's like a spike in the foot.
It's like a whip on the back.
It's like a knife in the stomach.
It's like a normal day for me.



Slug

Writers

Louis Aragon, Walker Conrad Arensburg, Hugo Ball, Andre Breton, Arthur Cravon (Fabian  Avenarius Lloyd), Carl Einstein, Paul Eluard, Julios Evola, Salomo Friedlaender (Mynona), Emmy Hennings, Wieland Herzfelde, Iliazd (Ilia Zdanevich), Matthew Josephson, Franz Jung, Mina Loy, Walter Mehring, Benjamin Peret, Georges Ribemont-Dessaignes, Walker Serner, Philippe Soupalt, Christof Spengemann, Tristan Tzara (Samuel Rosenstock).

Visual Artists

Hans Arp, Johannes Baader, Johannes Theodor Barrgeld, Erwin Blumenfield, Jean Crotti, Katherine Sophie Drier, Marcel Duchamp, Viking Eggeling, Max Ernst, Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven, Jefim Golyscheff, George Grosz, Raoul Hausmann, John Heartfield, Hannah Hoch, Richard Huelsenbeck, Marcel Janco, Man Ray, Francis Picabia, Enrico Prampoliano, Hans Richter, Christian Schad, Morton Livingston Schamberg, Kurt Schwitters, Alfred Stieglik, Sophie Taeuber-Arp, Jan Tschichold, Theo van Doesburg, Adya von Rees, Otto Vvan Rees. Beatrice Wood.

we shall go onto the end.
we shall fight in France,
we shall fight on the seas and oceans,
we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air.
we shall defend our island whatever the cost may be.
we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets.
we shall fight in the hills,
we shall never surrender.
                                     Churchills Speech- Iron Maiden- Somewhere Back In Time.

Zurich.
Berlin.
Hannover.
Cologne.
New York.
Paris.

' i pretend to be other people...in real life that's called schizophrenia. if you get paid to do it, its called acting'
            Peter Facinelli's Twitter Bio

i am me and i feel like i am not me! because you make me what you want me to be so that you don't stand out so much!

Slug

i smile because i have to, not because i want to.
i am happy because i have to, not because i want to.
i look at you because i want to, not because i like you.

Slug.

Have you ever wondered why trees start off as lollipops?

Slug.

To think to yourself is like talking to all the elves in your head.

Slug.

Found Poetry

'Found Poetry is a type of poetry created by taking words, phrases and sometimes whole passages from other sources and reframing themes as poetry by making changes in spacing and/or lines or by altering the text by additions/deletions.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/found_poetry

Concrete Poetry

'Concrete poetry or size poetry is when the arrangement of words is as important in conveying the intended effect as the conventional elements of the poem, such as meaning, of words, rhythm, rhyme and so on'
It is also known as visual poetry, where both words and the layout share the importancy.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/concrete_poetry

Dada

Dada was, officially, not a movement, it's artists not artists and it's art not art.
That is the simplistic explanation.
Dada was created in Europe during the first world war when the French and German artists, writers and intellectuals found themselves gathered in the refuge that Zurich offered. The group protested as a group and used any public forum they could find to metaphorically spit on the nationalism, rationalism, materialism, and any other ism which they felt contributed to the war. 'If society is going in this direction, they said we'll have no part of it or it's traditions. Including...no, wait;...especially artistic traditions. We, who are non-artists, will create non-art since art (and everything else in the world) has no meaning.'


Http://arthistory.about.com/cs/arthistory10one/a/dada.htm.

extract from secret addiction. by slug.

i cry. i want everything back, but i've burnt it all. i still smell the fire. i still feel the warmth. i still hear the screams. i still see the flicker, flickering away my memories.

The Dazzling - Slug

its bright. its dull. its colourful. its black and white. its mine. its yours.  its natural. its man-made. its beautiful. its  ugly. its happy. its sad. its square. its round. its shapeless. its loud. its quiet. its boring. its fun. its girly. its  boyish. its bananas. its broccoli. its meat. its fish. its dairy. its spices. its paper. its rock. its scissors. its pen. its pencil. its blonde. its brunette. its ginger. its black. its light. its dark. its night. its day. its sun. its planets. its trees. its bugs. its big. its small. its inbox. its outbox. its popular. its unpopular. its life. its death.
its the DAZZLING.



Slug

**Dear Terry**

**********************
Terry, if you are reading this then you got my coloured piece of paper :)

Anyway this is the way I am going to present it from now on and at the end I can then select the entries that I want to be in the final print out :D

Slug
*************************

Twilight song- Emmy Hennings

Oktaven taumekn Echo nahc durch graue Jahre.
Hochaufgeturmte Tage sturzen ein.
Dein will ich sein-
Im Grabe wachsen meine gelben Haare
Und in Holunderbaumen leben fremde Volker
Ein blasser Vorhang raunt von einem Zimmer
Gepenster gehen um beim Kuchenbord.
Und kleine Tannen sind verstorbene Kinder
Uralte Eichen sind die Seelen muder Griese
Die flustern die Geschichte des verfehlten Lebens.
Der Klintekongensee singt eine alte Weise.
Ich war night vor dem bosen Blick gefeit
Da krochen Neger aus der Wasserkanne,
Das bunte Bild in Marchenbuch, die rote Hanne
Hat einst verzaubert mich fur alle Ewigkeit.

To Make A Dadist Poem.

Take a newspaper.
Take some scissors.
Choose from this paper an article the length you want to make your poem.
Cut out the article.
Next carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag.
Shake gently.
Next take out each cutting one after the other.
Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.
The poem will resemble you.
And there you are--an infinitely original author of charming sensibility, even though unappreciated by the vulgar herd. 


http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-make-a-dadist-poem/

Tristan Tzara

Tristan Tzara (born Samuel or Samy Rosenstock, also known as S. Samyro; April 16 1896–December 25, 1963) was a Romanian and French avant-garde poet, essayist and performance artist. Also active as a journalist, playwright, literary and art critic, composer and film director, he was known best for being one of the founders and central figures of the anti-establishment Dada movement. Under the influence of Adrian Maniu, the adolescent Tzara became interested in Symbolism and co-founded the magazine Simbolul with Ion Vinea (with whom he also wrote experimental poetry) and painter Marcel Janco. During World War I, after briefly collaborating on Vinea's Chemarea, he joined Janco in Switzerland. There, Tzara's shows at the Cabaret Voltaire and Zunfthaus zur Waag, as well as his poetry and art manifestos, became a main feature of early Dadaism. His work represented Dada's nihilistic side, in contrast with the more moderate approach favored by Hugo Ball. 

After moving to Paris in 1919, Tzara, by then one of the "presidents of Dada", joined the staff of Littérature magazine, which marked the first step in the movement's evolution toward Surrealism. He was involved in the major polemics which led to Dada's split, defending his principles against André Breton and Francis Picabia, and, in Romania, against the eclectic modernism of Vinea and Janco. This personal vision on art defined his Dadaist plays The Gas Heart (1921) and Handkerchief of Clouds (1924). A forerunner of automatist techniques, Tzara eventually rallied with Breton's Surrealism, and, under its influence, wrote his celebrated utopian poem The Approximate Man. 

During the final part of his career, Tzara combined his humanist and anti-fascist perspective with a communist vision, joining the Republicans in the Spanish Civil War and the French Resistance during World War II, and serving a term in the National Assembly. Having spoken in favor of liberalization in the People's Republic of Hungary just before the Revolution of 1956, he distanced himself from the French Communist Party, of which he was by then a member. In 1960, he was among the intellectuals who protested against French actions in the Algerian War. 

Tristan Tzara was an influential author and performer, whose contribution is credited with having created a connection from Cubism and Futurism to the Beat Generation, Situationism and various currents in rock music. The friend and collaborator of many modernist figures, he was the lover of dancer Maja Kruscek in his early youth and was later married to Swedish artist.


http://www.poemhunter.com/tristan-tzara/biography/

Found and Lost

Open your eyes.

It's me you see.

Looking for a soul.

Deep inside yourself.

I see it.

Glows like fire.

So Bright.

I'm searching for a soul.

Lost in a mad world.

I'm searching.

Close your eyes.

Lock your heart down.

Leave all human life behind.

But listen once in a while.

Still searching.

In a mad world.

I found you.

Slug