Community Successfully Poetry-Bombed

My community poetry project was lacklustre, exciting, annoying, printing-frustating, and something I hope to continue.

I chose four poems that I liked (and thought would easily fit on half a page) from my submission and touched them up a little. Then I printed them (after many stupid attempts and after the printer ate my paper like 5 times and then spat it out all crumpled and ink-stained), cut them out (badly. I am bad with scissors), and implemented the plan with my best friend, who probably had more fun than me hiding the words.

It started in Kelowna, on saturday, with my best friend, Gideon, my other friend, Paige, and my mother, Mother, in tow. I cut the paper at the Kelowna food court (semi-afraid that some security guard would pounce on me for carrying around giant, sharp scissors with me) and got criticized on my slow cutting technique. Then, in an epic fashion, my hair knotted from the stupid 50 km/h winds Kelowna had that day, my best friend and I ran around Chapters trying to find places to hide about 8 cut-out poems. Of course, being himself, Gideon thought it would be hilarious to put my dark, not so kid-friendly poetry in the kid section. My mom spent a few good minutes hunting him down and informing him that he wasn't allowed to scar children. He told my later that he'd slipped one into an avenger's comic. Nice.

Me, freaked out that I'd be caught by the Chapter's employee dude that seemed to stalk me, randomly chose books to put the poems in. Gideon, being smart and much sneakier but at the same time, much more obvious, hid the poems in smart places like the poetry section. He took a lot of glee from the whole ordeal.

Next was Costco, where once again we had to reason with Gideon why he couldn't put my poems in books labeled bedtime stories.

Then we bombed Vernon's Walmart where all popular fiction lives and goes to sell, sell, sell. Instead of writing about it, I'll show you in epic photos of me and Gid's adventure....

Printer hates me....

Boss cut job

Start of getting it done.

How Art students get shit done.

When I go demon.

Gideon shows his true feelings about my poems...

Gideon driving MY car to Walmart

My face when he drives MY car

The deed is done...BOSS

And of course, where we poetry-bombed on friday:

The cool thing is the waiting I think, as I wrote my phone number on some of the ones we put in costco books, and then there was the hashtag I created #trouverpoetry, with instructions to instagram the poem with that hashtag. Will people do it? No clue! Does it matter? kinda, but whatever. Will I keep doing this?! Hell yes! I actually love the idea of leaving poetry for people to find...I may even start to write short short stories and send them out into the unknown!!! Or maybe I'll cut up chapters to my novel and leave them places just to mess with people. It's so thrilling knowing that you've bombed someplace with your words, that someone may pause when they find what you've written. This is an awesome project, seriously, just because it's something we can all do. 

We don't need to be published to get our work out there...why can't we spread our words at our own will? What's stopping us from getting our stuff out there in the public eye? I'd love to find poetry hidden in the pages of some book on a store shelf! I hope in the future I come across someone's guerrilla poetry! And I'm glad that other people, even my unpoetic friend thought it was amazing because maybe that means that a lot of people will appreciate not only receiving a poem, but maybe it will inspire others to do the same. Let's make Vernon a land of poetry where each book has a gift inside! WHY THE HELL NOT?!!! 

Keep an eye on those hashtags folks ;) and yes, I will be informing friends on Facebook and instagram how they should join me in the adventure, or maybe try to find some of my poems :D

Flashback Sunday

I decided I wanted to post an old poem of mine from when I was thirteen. I'd written it for a premise piece to a novel I'd started (I seriously have like 30 different novel 'starts' from ages 11-17). I just think it's very entertaining to look back and see where I was at back then when it comes to writing. And not only that, but sometimes I'm pleasantly surprised by my writing from the past....though I mostly just laugh. This is definitely one of those laughing times. Oh, 13-year old Casey, how you put those words together :D And yes, you should admire my rhyming abilities!

The Cure 

In a meadow of green, in a meadow of green

Grows a sacred healing tree

With five fruit of blood for thee

The cure to the Fallen they be

But you need the poisoned apple key

In a meadow of green, in a meadow of green

Grows a sacred healing tree

God’s angels tried to set us free

The cure to the Fallen they seeded

But the poisoned apple is needed

In a meadow of green, in a meadow of green

Grows a sacred healing tree

For all of the Lord’s children to see

The cure to the Fallen lies there

But the poisoned apple is more than rare

In a meadow of green, in a meadow of green

Grows a sacred healing tree

But can you find the tree in the great Shadow Sea

The cure to the Fallen hangs in a suspended dance

The poisoned apple is your one and only chance

Trouble with the Flarf

I get the feeling that flarf is for a special group of people; a group that I do not belong in. I can enjoy the absurd, the internet, and words...so you'd think I'd enjoy flarf. And sometimes I think it may just be the fact that I haven't been exposed to the right flarf, but it's difficult to find the energy to look further into flarf when we are told to read Annoying Diabetic Bitch for the second time.

I like dirty jokes, I like ranting (if you couldn't tell), and I like kinda saying 'fuck you world' too often.

I DO NOT like Sharon Mesmer's book of curse words and sassy flarf that reads like one of the biggest, loudest, most annoying FUCK YOUs to ever be. But what confuses me the most is whether or not that's the point...does she want us to be offended by the words of the internet? Does she want to take what makes us terrible and funny and offensive and throw it at us? Does she want us to hate this book? WHAT IS THE POINT?

I think it makes me feel a bit pissy if the point was to make us hate it. Because it worked, and everything about this book makes me not want it to work. I mean, urban dictionary is funny. Annoying Diabetic Bitch  is annoying. And watching Mesmer read the first poem, which the book is titled after, manages to grind my gears even more.

You annoying diabetic bitch.
You anorexic bulimic diabetic bitch.
You dumb annoying talentless diabetic bitch, eat some diabetes.
You and your bitch monster diabetic junkhead father,
and your diabetic cat, your pathetic geriatric diabetic cat that eats birds —
bitch birds —
you fuck-ass body monster, you're lulling me into a diabetic coma
like that annoying secretary from Ally McBeal,
you cold British diabetic bitch-dick.
Look — I've played a hooker, a diabetic inmate requiring hormones,
a divorced shit-ass son-of-a-bitch, a kitsch bitch, an idiot, and — oh fuck it,
all this diabetes is making me into a bitch.
Go eat your diabetes, bitch,
I have never seen someone so loud and moronic and annoying and diabetic.
The last thing I need to find out is that I am diabetic,
someone with six diabetic relatives who beat each other to death
with their own shoes.
Is there a chat room?  Because this is just fucking annoying.
Just take into account that I am a heartless bitch, Millicent.
I have a kick-ass diabetic section and I'll turn you into a diabetic.
I'm what's called a pre-emptive diabetes bitch.
Top model bitch, you do not want to be a diabetic in a
typepad-cum-hammer/peg situation
I can be extremely diabetic, and you can be only slightly diabetic.
So that's Queen Bitch to you bitch,
you're annoying like a fucking annoying
diabetic bitch.

And you read the comments on this video and it just makes you realize how she found such language and absurd, vulgar material to work with from this world the internet has created.

I believe that Sharon's work supports that idea that the medium is the message, and the fact is, while she's written a book, the original words are from the internet. And it says a lot about us as humans that these terrible ideas, terrible rants come from the place where we feel we can reveal ourselves the most while still remaining protected behind our screens. Sharon has taken the worst of ourselves and put it in a book, where Mary-Kate and Ashley want to rape people and there's plenty of references to dicks, asses, and vaginas using creative words, in order to paint ugliness on politics, which is already an ugly subject.

I hate it...and if that's the point, then good job Sharon.

Examples of comments:

Paul Merrill 8 years ago

Sharon Mesmer rules my freaking world. I love "Annoying Diabetic Bitch" so much, it makes my ass hurt.

annieduke04 6 years ago

Your diabetic cat eats birds...bitch birds...ROFL!!! You annoying diabetic bitch go eat some diabetes...ROFLMAO!!! God I love this stuff...it's so utterly ridiculous it's hilarious!!! FLARF RULES AND SHARON IS THE QUEEN!!!

I believe that Sharon's work supports that idea that the medium is the message, and the fact is, while she's written a book, the original words are from the internet. And it says a lot about us as humans that these terrible ideas, terrible rants come from the place where we feel we can reveal ourselves the most while still remaining protected behind our screens. Sharon has taken the worst of ourselves and put it in a book, where Mary-Kate and Ashley want to rape people and there's plenty of references to dicks, asses, and vaginas using creative words, in order to paint ugliness on politics, which is already an ugly subject.

I hate it...and if that's the point, then good job Sharon.

For the Love of Writing

I'm going to steal a quote from the movie Stuck in Love (which I love because it's about love, writing, and Logan Lerman...okay it's technically not about him, but he's in it!) in order to justify why I am such a bad procrastinator when it comes to something I love the most...writing.

"Rusty, a writer is the sum of his experiences. Go get some."

And me, with my love of writing and my lack of committing to it, tell myself that this is what I'm doing–getting experience. I'm living. So that when I have the time to sit down and finally commit myself to my work, I'll have something to write. Alas, this is why my blog is filled with not enough. Filled to its brim with not enough. I know that's impossible, but still.

I'm sad that younger me went and destroyed younger younger me's random notes on Facebook that were meant to put my soul on display even though it more or less just made me look like a self-absorbed kid. What kid of kid in North America isn't self-absorbed at 13? 

Since I sabotaged myself those years ago, I'm going to now fill out on of these random answer things and then follow up with a review of 2500 Random Things about Me Too.
Let the self-attentioning begin!!!

Question 1: Do you have any pets ?
Yes and no. I grew up on a farm, and will be moving back there with all the farm animals. However, I, myself, am not a lover of animals. Maybe a liker...

Question 2: Name three things that are physically close to you?

Is it strange that I thought of the people who've held me the most? Like my ex, my niece, and my nephew. But physically near me in the sense of things are a rabbit stuffy named Mojo (after my best friend and I's nicknames for each other),  a candle, and the pamphlet given out at my friend's funeral.

Question 3: What’s the weather like right now ?
Full of promises; hinting at summer but the air is drenched in spring.Questions 4: Do you drive ? If so, have you crashed?
I drive, and I pray I won't be crashing. I hit a ditch once at 4 am. But drove out of it like a pro ditch driver.
Question 5: What time did you wake up this morning ?
9:58 am 'cause I sleep in like that.
Question 6: When was the last time you showered ?
10:00 am 'cause I wash my body like that.
Question 7: What was the last movie that you saw ?
Five seconds of Sin City 2. Ten minutes of Pitch Perfect. Half of Birdman. That's like 5/6 of a movie.
Question 8: What does you last text message say?
You?!!! you mean your? "There's fritters, sausage rolls, ham and cheese croissant, cinnamon twists blah blah blah :) it is Friday though so idk how much stuff will be left by the time we go through"
Question 9: What is your ringtone ?
Normal one: Nirvana's Heart-shaped Box Mother's: Pearl Jam's version of Last Kiss The BFF's: Let's Fall in Love by Mother Mother (he hates the band :D)
Question 10: Have you ever been to a different country?
France, Mexico. Space.Question 
11: Do you like sushi?
Do I ever.
Question 12: Where do you buy your groceries?
Where I want to at the time?
Question 13: Have you ever taken any medication to help you fall asleep faster?
No.
Question 14: How many siblings do you have ?
4+1 who is like an adoptee, and then there's the brother-in-law that is like a brother anyways.
Question 15: Do you have a desktop computer or a laptop?
Laptop
Question 16: How old will you be turning on your next birthday?
200000000! or just 20
Question 17: Do you wear contacts or glasses ?
Four eyes
Question 18: Do you colour your hair ?
:) yes, with henna. Haven't been all natural since I was 8
Question 19: Tell me something you are planing to do today:
Meet BCIT students for dinner, probably be awkward.
Question 20: When was the last time you cried?
Last weekend. I'm a girl. It's okay.
Question 21: What is your perfect pizza topping?
Goat cheese!!!!!!!
Question 22: Which do you prefer, hamburger or cheeseburger ?
cheeseburger, no bun because that shit gives me heartburn
Question 23: Have you ever had an all-nighter ?
Did you pee your diaper as a one year old? Duh.
Question 24: What is your eye colour ?
Grey, but that's not an option according to the jerks at the license place. So according to them, they're blue.
Question 25: Can you taste the difference between Pepsi and Coke?
Stupid question.

2500 Random Things about Me Too is a book of poetry by Matias Viegener. Reading it initially, I couldn't catch on to the link between the old posts people would write on Facebook and the work Matias has done. Maybe it was because a lot of the 'random' things became not so random, but rather created a narrative between the lines. Maybe it's because I'm dense like that. 

I did very much enjoy this book (unlike most of the other books we read....) because of that strange narrative it'd take on sometimes. Humans are bad at being random, I think. We are driven by reason, by needs and wants and so it's hard to truly write something that falls under the 'random' category. Unless you're Kevin...I feel like Kevin can be very random. 

One of my favourite lines is "Many non-human sounds are nice, and almost all nasty sounds come from humans somehow" (line 12, X). It's written like a simple truth, a fact more than a pondering observation. This is a line that made me pause and think it through, to examine the noises around me and find the beautiful ones and the ugly. Most human voices spew ugliness, anger. The way a crane moves, with it's grinding and metal parts, is made from humans. Ugly ugly ugly.

I feel like I get off topic easily.

Matias does a good job of slipping in those facts he's created, these perfect lines that read like quotes that have been well designed to hit you hard and fast. To stick to you. But it's mixed among all these other things that are personal and impersonal. Unlike Disclosure, I feel like I do get a sense of who Matias is, not just because it's a book about him technically, but because how  he wrote the random things. He doesn't always explain, give reason, but there's enough there to build an image of a human being. I feel like if we were all to do a large scale project like this the end result would be surprising. That we wouldn't know how much of ourselves we've given until we came to the end, when at that point you're having to dig deep to not repeat yourself over and over. This is the poetry I want, the confessional kind redone in new ways. We give away this info about ourselves freely as if we want to make our mark in the world, but how can we do this if we stick to the small talk. Maybe it's the same for our work...how can we possibly make our mark in the world of poetry if we aren't willing to dig up ourselves and write work that doesn't just look at the skin of our words, but the intestines, the liver, and maybe even the blood that pumps our hearts.

These Days I Catch Colds...not Soup

I want to write about 2500 Random Things about Me Too, but I won't. Because I'm one of those people that give in to what I feel like doing which is sometimes nothing. It's good stuff though, that poetry. I liked it; thought of all us 13 year olds on Facebook writing about ourselves. So here's a snippet of what I will write about when I get to the point. Here's terrible evidence of 13 year old me infecting the internet with useless knowledge–I just looked guys! and it's gone!! all gone, erased by probably embarrassed 17 year old me at some point. What a sad day...

So, instead, I'd like to post an awesome poetry video I found by writing the words 'hidden poem' into the box of all knowing Google, our master! But seriously, not only is it cool to watch this girl do her work, but the poems are decent as well. And this pen is super impressive! (I want it!)

The lady's blog: http://arteascuola.com

I'd love to do something like this for the community poetry project, but I get the feeling that libraries and bookstores would kill me for doing this...so instead I'll stick to my poem slip with a hashtag :) So far I've recruited my best friend to help me out and I'll post photos once we got some things covered. I'm actually really excited/kind of scared.


I also just got a brilliant idea...write poetry on money! DIBS no copy cats!

Well crap...

Yeah, so I'm failing at my avoid failing...again. BLOGS ARE EVIL AND SHOULDN'T EXIST.

Just so everyone knows, as in the few people who may read this, I'm going to Squamish for the music festival :D and some Vernon talent will be there...who just so happens to be a rapper. SO Here's a Sonreal video. I think it's pretty neat that he's getting recognized more and more...kind of gives the rest of us small town artists (writers, singers, painters, etc) some hope.

The last one actually has Vernon in the film :)

Now here is my review of Disclosure:

I was excited when I bought this book...it's cover was shiny and interesting and all wrapped up in terrible plastic. I thought it was maybe going to be confessional poetry–which I love–and that Kevin has chosen something I could really enjoy.
Of course, Kevin had to do it again.

I don't think this is a terrible piece of work...I think it's a really interesting idea and I did enjoy the voyerism factor that let's us see her as the many different pieces of paper that are supposed to describe her. I just don't know if this is what I'd call poetry. It's art, I believe, but maybe not in the medium of creative written words. Why, Kevin, do you insist on us reading work that tries to defy all rules and say fuck it to the conventional styles of poetry?! Can't we just enjoy the norms for a second?

Dana Teen Lomax has a life like most mid-life aged people I'd believe. There's records from her job, her past, and even her google search results for her name. I liked this to be honest, the weird way she shows us her life but not really. I love the concept–not the placement of genre she's published it to. I mean, it's interesting, yes. It has written words. Pictures. But what makes it poetry instead of a neat art project???!! I don't know. I mean, photocopying isn't a talent. Arranging pages takes somewhat of a skill and an eye for placement but it's still not comparable to the great poets out there that slaved over there work, died, and still live on through their words. Maybe that's the saddest part of this whole 'book'; that this is an account of a life. A life that doesn't matter to me, or probably you. I get the feeling that Dana knows she isn't the next Shakespeare, or even next Dr. Seuss. This is an outside-view account of a life, and it's out there in print but still, she doesn't become anymore real to me than most strangers we read about from afar.

It leaves me questioning what it takes for one to connect to another being? Why can someone with a real talent for singing die, and we not feel the impact? Yet when Zayn leaves one direction, thousands of teenage girls swear they feel as if someone had ripped their hearts out and ate it whole? How can we, as writers, imitate that odd sense of connection people have to their idols with our writing? Can we make a character of value? Why is it that looking through a book of intimate details about one's health and work and life not bring us a sense of connection even though it's shockingly relatable?

I don't know...maybe I'm just bonkers.