So, for my project, I cut the list of words into six sections, gave them to six different friends, and asked them to make poems out of them. Kind of my own bucket of dirt. I gave them words, they returned words. Here’s what I got, in the same order that the words were on the list:
From Lewis, who cut each individual word out, then arranged them and created his poem based on their new order:
Half engaged but fully tied
to this uptwisted cross.
But softly my lids open and close
as I observe it all.
The earth stretched round beneath my feet,
Bent in more ways than I can count.
Mountains push wrinkles while valleys
Open.
And would that I could, dare forgiveness,
as the twists in my bones
come down.
From Carolyn, who claimed that this was the worst poem ever written:
Take the cereal from the shelf
And Flex.
Now put it back.
Twist and twist
Until you want to engage in more activity.
Now stop.
Open the front door
And peer outside.
Now close the door
And walk away.
Go up and down the stairs
Until your muscles feel tight
Then scream.
This will be your response.
Now open and close the door again
Go in the bathroom
Grab some toilet paper
Pull and twist your specimen
Then hang it on the kitchen faucet.
Look at your work
Look until you feel your imagination engage
Then go take a nap.
From Rebecca, who used a dream she had for inspiration for this poem:
The dance began
Their balance lost
As round and round
They went.
Their words entangled
in a helpless mouth
of straight openness then
curved and bent.
Before, they sat
Engaged and listening
The debate going on
‘round them.
Then afterwards
No longer inside but in the open air
She figured out she had
Hurt him.
He opened up
And shared his sorrow
As he returned the letters
He wrote.
And then the switch
As he rounded on her
and refused to hear the words
she spoke.
This turn of events
And the pain she had caused
She realized could not
be fixed.
As she pulsed and flexed
And got ready to flee,
Her emotions were
Thoroughly mixed.
From Kyra, who was really excited to do this:
point flex
bend extend
strong legs push against gravity’s pull
like the tides of the ocean
push pull
knees bend like a taut bow
bending preparing for release
palm opens the arrow flies
she springs
leaps like a stag
jete
lands on flexed feet
like a frog bends on a lily pad
legs extended
en pointe
places foot on knee
pirouette...
all within moments
and but a measure
within the moving symphony
From Holly, who temporarily lost her list of words:
Liberation
Flex against the bonds
Pull free, to reposition myself
Break free from its hold.
But it’s too tight. Too close
Grit my teeth, feel the pinch.
Flex against the bonds,
Start to open. Tug,
Move against it, tug.
Tug against the hold,
Tug in hopes of branching out
Tug towards the me I want
Tug, for that which I want, tug.
One more tug,
And it opens,
Don’t let it close,
No more need to flex.
From Michael, who wrote this poem in literally 1 or 2 minutes.
Place yourself in the middle.
Close your eyes.
Bend reality to your will, and fix what you think is wrong.
But then you realize
That everything is more complex than it seems
And your well-intentioned efforts begin to
Circle, circle, circle
Out of control.
So extend your influence,
Make the circles open wider,
Until you have three lines:
Line line line.
Organize them, force them into a single
Long line.
Now engage the long line.
Bend it into a circle.
Open your eyes.
Place yourself in the middle.
I had a lot of fun trading my words for theirs, was really surprised with what I got from them and loved how much fun they had doing it. I kind of want to do this again, just for fun!
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