Spent a little bit of time this evening adding some blackout poetry to my scrapbook. Clippings courtesy of old Writers Magazine issues, word-twisting by me.
Also, here is the front cover of my scrapbook – isn’t it gorgeous?
Tag: blackout poetry
the wheelchair,
the cobbled street.
happy because –
happy.
No reasons
to be seen.
a stray boy
interacting with
nothing.
filthy hair,
head slumped low
but bobbing with
every guffaw.
Small town poverty,
invisible life.
a semi-stoned
shadow lurching
from side to
side in the
dimming
light.
Young teenagers
are deaf
to the caring, clumsy racket
terrorising me.
Listening upright
on the pillows
I dare hurt myself
more.
Out, out
our routine sparking art
Hugging,
enthused for Florence –
the flights,
the village.
You’ll stay glued,
but May,
the influx of boats,
the excitement,
the calm cathedral.
