Like a fool, I believed
& when your head is turned, you will know.
The old city cracked when we blew to cool it off
she unzipped his skin with a smiling blade
flew by in the tides of turquoise,
She didn’t want to lie, but after a while she couldn’t stop it anymore.
A surrealist, crowd-sourced experiment in poetry creation. Click here for more information and instructions on how you can contribute.Ask me anything
Like a fool, I believed
Then we found the old place, with all its corners intact.
Those times were silly, those kisses and caresses.
She had an unusual presence about her.
The sky opened up and showed there was nothing above, except
a burden to bear, my burdens laid bare.
If you are cold, burn your books.
But oh, Father Joseph, stop touching me there!
I wish it wasn’t happened, and I wouldn’t cry.
This can’t be reality.
As if the wigwams had converted themselves to spoons
descending into the whirlpool.
A firework explodes in my head every time I hear you talk.
The shadows reached for her like demons from a nightmare.
Let’s go somewhere and judge people.
Little is known about these structures.
Lips lick long, lazy linguine lines
There are fears here
“For shame,” I thought as my eyes fluttered closed. “For shame.”
I started a cult.
My life was almost over before I even realized it had started
when she smoked, glitter fell from her fingertips
The oak tree yawns shade over our checkered blanket
Stockholm prize in Criminology:
awarded for genetic profiling,
as in, some of us are predisposed to commit crimes.
there’s no explanation later.
And, above all, the rain was quiet.
when she kissed me… it felt like the murder of kittens
United we stand.
It’s gotten to the point where you can’t ask me anything.
I don’t have the answer.
I lied when I said I knew.
my mother calls me a slut
Could it be the ebbing of a everpresent lie- to be ourselves rather than die?
What’s with today, today?
orange & blue the bubbles rise to the top
Interns. Why do they think they are SO smart??
These Cheetos taste like ass.
sometimes, all you have to do is very little to make a lot happen.
Welcome to a Tumblr experiment in creativity, crowd-sourcing, surrealism and saving the world.
WHAT IS AN “EXQUISITE CORPSE?”
From ExquisiteCorpse.com: Among Surrealist techniques exploiting the mystique of accident was a kind of collective collage of words or images called the cadavre exquis (exquisite corpse). Based on an old parlor game, it was played by several people, each of whom would write a phrase on a sheet of paper, fold the paper to conceal part of it, and pass it on to the next player for his contribution.
Basically, you write something. Then someone else writes the next line without being able to see what you wrote. Then, the whole thing is collected into a full-length piece of writing. In our case, poetry.
HOW DO I PARTICIPATE?
Go to the “Ask” box. Send us a single line.
THEN WHAT HAPPENS?
After we have about
25 10 lines (to start, we might go longer in the future) we’ll combine them all and post them to this Tumblr as a poem.
WHERE DID YOU GET THE IDEA?
The Exquisite Corpse is a tradition at Typewriter Girls shows. I’ve been very lucky to work with TWG and think the Exquisite Corpse is always a fabulous way to close the night. I’m very into the idea of creativity via the virtual and social media being a valid way to try and connect through the arts, inspire one another AND expose people to the arts who otherwise might not seek them out.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO WRITE!
WHAT IF WHAT I WRITE IS STUPID?
BUT I’M NOT REALLY A POET!
Yes, you are. We’re all poets, in the end.