ritas kleine welt

in honour of today's storm, i composed an ode upon a brave pigeon digging its little claws into a trusty birch twig and swaying with the whole tree against the stiff breeze.

ode (in german), moving pigeon and music behind the cut.

this week's collected works after a trip to the Leipziger Spinnerei where the poetry seminar group was shown round a number of galleries. and obviously i failed at recognizing art, because that board was really just a board and not some random installation like those prosthetic legs (which were pretty awesome btw!)

the usual appologies to the poet who originally wrote a piece of beauty, crack-pot imagery and was a genius all round. sorry, john! i am unworthy.

but now, the tramp poems continue. and where is my aspirin?

edit: now with accompanying wordle.

this morning sabine suggested i should have a go at imagist poetry. then she sent me the link to a poem and i couldn't rid myself of the imoression that she was either enjoying this a wee bit too much (like sadists do) or she just wanted to pull my leg becaue i asked for some advice for shorter poetry that may be begging for "trampification". well... to make a long story short, i gave in to her propposal (like a true masochist -- which makes this even more disturbing...) and assassinated 'the wheelbarrow'.

ps. dear poets of the anglophone world, i do feel genuinely bad about violating your work. but it's SO much fun!!!

pps. housepoints for those who can actually name the film.

sabine said in case i ever manage to change 'kubla kahn' into the shape of a tramp-poem, i would have a chance to publish the collected proof of my lunacy. so in order to get one step closer to that somewhat infamous goal (who, i ask, wants printed proof of their own madness?!?), here's my assassination of john keats.

my first attempt at concrete poetry -- and i have fallen into one stereotypical girly subject. i have written/'drawn' a ballett dancer. amrs, legs, body and everything. and with the help of the default paint-programme on my computer, i have even given here some sort of cut-out and paste imaginary body. enter the stereotypical colour of the girly dancer: bubblegum pink!

after all: one strives to really carry this over the top.

i need more coffee.

this poetry community thingamabob is creepy. it makes me write. though i wouldn't say, it classifies for poetry. it's more like odd prose that doesn't manage to fill

a complete line

but is broken up by the

random

pressing of the enter-key. well. at least it's good time passing myoffice hour because nobody shows up and now i can say, i actually did something for university. (for which reason, i will have to spam the LJ community lateron again. le sigh!)

quite some time ago, i hit upon this nifty little web-toy callded wordle. it so happens that with all the silliness that has been coursing through my mind lately and with the literal output of doubtful value, i remembered this helpful application. it is quite interesting to see how one's thoughts, although applied to the same subject, shift towards different aspects. in that respect, wordle is quite a great tool to help one see one's own meandering thoughts more clearly.

::shan't spam LJ, but must make use of own blog properly and rightly ... thus::