P O E T R Y

 
 

Concrete Poetry

Genre that creates a visual image out of its words. It's a rebellion against the traditional. As 20th century Modern Art, Concrete Poetry takes on a philosophical outlook by forcing its reader to take meaning from looking at the words rather than through the words. It also highlights its limitations and confinement. It wants the reader to know of its restrictions.

George Herbert and George Starbucks are poets whom have dabbled with this style.

raw soul .jpg
 
 
hj.jpg
 
 
 
 
9999.jpg
 
 

COLLAGE POETRY

Through a documentarist style, I've chosen to explore Collage Poetry by creating Dialogue and Movie Stills. I tried creating a multilayered piece: the apparent cold, distanced documentarist shot, enacting the 3rd person versus the highly personal and intimacy aroused from the dialogue. 

 

Poem & Movie Still_%22Silence is an Answer Too%22_AR.jpg

What goes on internally versus what goes on externally, differs greatly. Given our global trend of minimizing soul exposure, many of us internalize everything, reaching the point where we create an almost subterranean consciousness. Constantly repressed. And so our inner thoughts lean towards the melodramatic and exaggerated. Our thoughts are not spoken so our thoughts have no oxygen.  

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
POEM II AR.jpg
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
POEM III_AR.jpg
 
 
 
 

FREE VERSE POETRY

Don't follow rules, rhyme scheme nor rhythm or fluidity. Often times they are presented as disjointed or fractured, meant to emulate run-on thoughts for example. 

Free Verse is meant to follow the rhythms of speech. It is also the most common genre within the 20th century, given that the majority of published lyric poetry has been written in this format. 

T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound are examples of renown poets having written in Free Verse.

 
 
 
Screen Shot 2018-02-23 at 2.25.30 AM.png
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
BookScanCenter (dragged).jpg
 
 
 
 
 
BookScanCenter (dragged).jpg
 
 
 
 
 
 
BookScanCenter (dragged).jpg
 
 
 
 
BookScanCenter (dragged).jpg
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

T H E  D A Y I  W O K E  UP

By Diana Maria Suciu

 

In the morning, 

I wake up and trace the dust fragments playing in the sunlight 

Filling up the spaces you left behind. 

 

 

There is a calligraphy of memories

In between the shapes you indented in my mattress

 

 

 

But I straighten them away gently 

And one by one they fade with the sun 

To crease someone else’s mind 

 

For the first time,

The bed is full with just me in it. 

 
 
 
 
 
 

BURNS

By Rebeca Maria Muresan

Positive Charges

Repel

Extend away

From each other

Perhaps in

A a

 

Circle(ing)

S's on my palm

Trees feel the same

At 62 ºC

 

Oval

Black in 

And out, needles

ants on my spine

And limbs

So I feel connected

To other(s)

Self-

 

Before i calm

Balmy minty greasy 

Fr(y)ghteningly 

Icy.