Found Poem

The process of found poetry is to use the words from a source, eliminating phrases and making changes in punctuation to create a new story, a new poem.

This found poem, yet to be titled, was inspired by a photograph and article[click for original text] in a Nat' l Geographic article on Acadia National Park.

For this, I ripped out the page in the magazine that also had this photo, then "wrote," inspired by how the sky was reflected only in the water. It seemed so enticing, yet so deceptive.




The two of us go back a long way.
She scared me half to death that first time. Then,
she seduced me. And I found myself
over the years, going back to search out
her secret places.

She'll hook you, too, if you give her a chance.
And watch yourself, in particular,
if you should happen that way:
you fall almost every time.

Her outlying parts--granite ledges,
small offshore islands linked by causeway to the mainland--here
you find a place called no.

And now, my journalling on the found poem, as it relates to my recovery:

Sometimes I am too quick to jump in the middle, deceived by surface colors and the illusion of depth. As if I have something to prove. As if I must suffer before I succeed. Not as interesting, not as enticing are the far off edges with their unpredictable curves, tenuous connections. But. If I explore the nooks, the crevices...if I take on the intimacy of fear, forgiving...forge through the bramble to better appreciate the whole, then. Then I discover strength, sustainability, courage. A voice that says NO as often as it shouts YES or mumbles MAYBE. I stand knee-deep in just myself and realize that I am bigger than what surrounds me.

It should go without saying, but I know I have to say it: Steal any of these words or thoughts and I will hunt you down and smite you and your children until 6th generation. Go get your own recovery if you want to be creative.