Currently in my life I’m a serious, perpetual gridlock of waiting. I’m waiting (patiently) on numerous fronts and spending my time (trying) to focus on the work at hand. This mindset definitely colors the work that I created for the fourth learning event. I also took the prompt and even the definition of dawn and played with it a bit. In fact, most of the concepts, themes, and speakers in the poem all have a bit of ambiguity built in.
A found poem
For this learning event, I wanted a poem to be at the center of the work that I was sharing. I was moved by the work that Alecia Magnifico shared last week. I was also motivated by the work that Kevin Hodgson shared this morning. Finally, in the comments section on Google+ for Kevin’s post, I met and was struck by a really cool comment from Maureen Maher.
You can follow the links to the Twitter account of each individual to follow them. I also included the links to the content that I borrowed for this project. I thought about pulling that content and pasting it here…but then again, I decided not to. If you’re interested in what I used to create this work, I suggest following the breadcrumbs to see what I found. The reason I’m not bringing is all here is to allow some small bit of serendipity to see what you find as you click back. I’m interested to see what resonates with you. 🙂
I pulled all of these text pieces into a blank note in Evernote. I then started up a second blank note to copy/paste and write my found poem remixing the content.
The final motivation
I knew that I wanted to write a poem, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to write about. I was finally motivated by a pic that I took this morning as we woke up.
The Dawn of Bridge
I write you to uncover myself.
I write us to uncover and know
your roots. Bones and blood,
spliced neatly into mine.
Hearing is a way of
touching at a distance.
in the limbic system too.
It triggers clusters of greedy human hands,
breaking to expose me to the madness.
Breaking through the surface
so that l and you might breathe
My throat aches now,
yet I cannot speak.
My name is secret,
yet embroidered through your language
I used to think I lived alone
yet soon will share my skin.
I try to write while finding you curled there.
Bound the womb tightly and waiting.
Image CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 adustyfairytale