NYC TYPEWRITER PROJ E CT NYCPOFEST 2018
It was a glorious morning
: 3 The sun be hind lo ds Today is qui e hot . . .
Int rnal voices now out loud
increa sing, decreasing
t re a ngwhy is thisnot working soem ne he p
rising and rising y ou wanna fight
B t when you figh t, the blazing h a t consumes ouu
i t w s bunin , but it was warming
Poetry, though cool
is not t e end all be all, it is nly nepart of life
but one part that makes all of the other part
s more bearable. like the intermission at a depressing play,
it brings relief to the main event.
e Poetry is snippets of our life
Capsules of our recollections
Vignettes of a comprehensive life
Capseules of our recollections here on a page
mem rie hatt d nd h d in this bi r
r otten apple
Kindess is free with heart of gold
Love is free with tenderness and dear to hold
But sometimes often
we dont understand wh at gifts the golde n
apple thrown in front of us may hold
and so we refuse to bear witness
to the life of the “rotten” ones
they are just clutter in a closet
and yet . . .
n r of s n d opin g like a p son
she h ad a habit of looking at the moon
as if checking to make sure it was still there
just let go -- it seemed to say -- but no
she clung on
in the wake
of high tides
magnitude of millions
crossing the water
lady liberty lookson
stoic standing silent
c ity box es
blu eyes, black hair
what does all this mean?
eat an orange! !
Take a poet
and gift her
and she will give
you her heart
disguised as prose,
spilled ink tears,
and words eternal . . . xxx *Eloise***
We would meet onceAA month e ld meet
would meet once a month
i love it Everything about i t I lov e
Happiness is t e key to love
And everything inbetween
And I love it and everyone around me
Because ha piness is me
Rosie ( from London )
dear hapiness, the world right no needs you mor tha
ever r g t now. we need hope love and resistance.
help us and we will help yo now or whenever.come ple
ase now all i need is youand your friends love,us
You who wrote this, where did you go?
I want to show you that happiness is not lost
It, is just a little lost . . .
Lost . . .
But we can always be found
I am here.
Where are you?
from th clouds, a mermai of th sky
they say the h aven s are in the skies, but
we kno w not how deep th o ceans reach
yet it is known as dark, mysterious, and heavy
why can t that be a place of happiness and e ernal
it is he re my destination and wonders
Pride before dishoner ,
Pride before dishoner is how he lives,
Nothing else matters But his kids
Pride before dishoner is how he lives
nothing else matters but his kids
Empty feelings like no one cared
The awkward look he always has as he stares,
Its not your fault shes gone,
So dont put the blame on you.
Let it go , live life its time finally do you.
Inner deons that eat you alive,
Wont let you put aside your pride. Your forgived, so please
The giver who never asked for anything back.
Youu the greatest man alive thats simp,ly a fact.
Thank you, for everytime you didnt quit.
For never leaving ouu side and dealing with all
our shit. Im sorry you Have always been the hidden
hero no one gave credit too.
The one who never gave up on u s, but we gave up on
you ! !
i am deciding to snatch this from air
the air that is vibrating with the words that k ep my own breath
alives and the breath suurrounding me. as one breath, our words
form union, something holy - though i am not religious.
letters swirling in summer air are my unholy prayer.
and i m deciding to find a happy medium and f ind comfort i
in myself. i push myself out f my c omfort zone, but am learning that at the end of t e day, it is mo er important to embrace myself, than to live on the edge, and change my eself just to conform to societys expectations.
. . . Found the courage on my heart
the courage in my heart to live a life
gentle ctrue and kind; o pen
like see ng joy grow out of wares
through eyes un-blind
p or HATE un-s oken
- Thomas endspirecuts Moran
there is nothing
There is nothing more freeing
Then tip t pping
on t a tap write so divine.
o i,m i ter who bleeds words
rom you drive from ct just to leave
40 minutes late r myself alone quilt crumpled
If left alone, do typewriters dream in full sentence ces?
or just fragments of untyped tohoughts?
if i am left alonw will i thimk in english?
will i cintinue to type in my dre am? /
i am not here and this isnt really ha pening
follow tomorrow wherever it leds
Th s n and beauty of the day will preside over t he people as the sun presides over the meadow
orieahna lile e o
if i t ld yo i if ifjd d ijayla jordym
if i told you i want you to love me am i crazy/ ?
i nt food
i want f oooo d k vo ns lovr btoo ymbrooklyn
Breathe deep. Love hard. That;s all you need. Laura Ramirez
i e colors.
if youre reading this, stan loona kiki. . .do you love me. . .//
riding y i re ly ni e pl ce
M im gr w today i will be gr
today is a new day
be great -jf ord
i am writing a secret message to you, with all of my heart,
while you stand there, outside of this small box,
taking photos of my decaying e xterior who. . .
i hope one day you will see me as i se myself :
empty_looking at youuuuuu, , . . . ///
no. . . all is accident and love.
you are here, so what will you do?
3. read numbered instructions
5. move on
(last one impossible)
kk , , eux839sllams; ; ;@@1⁄41⁄22-08
kwueoo, (make sense)j lll 77w
99930001 8 7746374637728837749992------22¢¢¢1⁄21⁄2 euw001992883---**+*1⁄41⁄4:@KJU yywheyy
iieu iwyqhali¢1⁄4@: LAMW%$! # (please, help me, do not be distracted as i am)jj99 77 Oo300993884775yruuehwjehryydkkkkkkk 8827_%% !+ ¢;./ ldjeuywiiskkemmdnnba
(by: ivan brave.) (email@example.com)
I believe in the ers n I nt t become
Pul er heless she f kedi
Nevertheless,she freaked it
yo soy a sol por mi familia,y todos al mundo
money is good,information is better
ths is a judgement free zonw
that¢s what to.d
the girl w came before she was com aining aobut syntax meantime
i thoguth thatssyntasx died i the s sixties. so much dies is the six
and that it == oops sorry i¢m a .ittle bity self c nscio s becuase
my friend is fili fiming mye at the moment a= for a l sterity and i
wi der if there will even be posterity given the wat that that the wo
rold is goi g. but i want to to somew at p stitive whinch is no
s o easy, given that i am retty old al=read and have no children .
yesterday i bought my elf a bunch of flower.
it sta rted to rain on my way home, but
i was happy. i appreciate the n giving water to my lovely flowers enough water to su port the long journey of my flower.
and i thought for the rain is doing its job, the na ure is caring for its kids. i s ould do my job; run t home and pla e my flo er and then
to parais e the world.
A Typewriter Haiku
Once upon a type
There was an old typewriter
Remembering our words
analysis pa ralysis
what is that, a child asks
a typewriter typewriter, mother re lies replies liesrelies realize what we realize
happiness , a friend we are all all l ooking for
at the end of a party
afraid they went home with our best friend instead of us
but happiness is waiting at home. the world must be so great and vast for ants
every puddle an ocean
oh l ittle ants
if only you knew how vast it was for
briana leann will you marry me?
yes on thousands yes. maybe w e are more than bodies, no/ ///
May we become
to allow the universe to make love
i watched the breathing slow
i saw the eyes flutter shut
i see the heartbeat stop
i watch the beginning in the end
e we cant find a piece to hang over the couch of ouu
our 2 bedroom apartment i guess that explains our home
to die by your ide
to die by your side is su h a heavenly way to die
je b nt langzaam net zoals ee n s hiload
y u me , and i am you. i am yo ,
andyou a me and if we believe t is lie
we will all have peace preeti
can’t think in images
for poetry has taken my senses
don,t wo rry. you, ll grow. m aybe babues or music or careers
or tumors . . . but you will make something of now.
in and everythimg all
u can make it i promise. just search “ceo norel” on apple music, etc and listen to great music.
she made a slit in her arm
cockaroac es fellout
getting caught on
the flaps of skin s e sig ed relie ed
Smog Unconsciously, it fills up your conscious, with all shades of black; the absence of color.
Human greed brings darkness into a planet that was green.
the re is no prison bi g enough to hold the truth
young sa ling
are my 4th of july every day
yes like firecra kers nd smiles like fire orks
you melt me like a or otten i e ream one
when two wr s make a ight
what is letf
we rd we kee r n, b t t i us ds w we n w it is us we s the ne we w wha re dy that is what e
and the b the od lord comes an ves us t e ready that we need i
If only the return le ver did not break. Ah well. Such is lie.
r, e Love u, Get Up Fra nlk O,Hara RS
don;ntletithem break you r i gythis will be the m
ke a fish t of a e
like a fish ouu of water i decay with every breath
you are more than your body
you are more than your mind,
and you are far more
than these words
dearest love ,
all thes voices in my head scream: I am a nothing, a no one. No one c
can see me, but Ican feel everything.
hello to the perso that happened
my name s d ntdamont i like poetry because poetry likes me
mynameismo n and liket a m ndeled mhm mjmhmjhtak
take a moment to smile . )
@haimoonjabin at instagram : ) monh
somet mes ne wonders a out their worth , but rememb r you have
worth and let it shine
I stand in a box. . . all alone
And ye t, we are truuly never alone. Someone is watching Always. . . somewhere! I’m not alone Nobody is
de he ink o nly ets if you scream in black1⁄2
the setting is custom
thouh covered in grass
you smell like coffee. yum.
stay single ladies : )
it realy hot
just lik my mamall
i am swea ting licke crazy
You can keep the last of me. I don,t are, I am obsolete. You ha ve
seen the last of me. WRING MY NECK, I WONT FEEL A THING.
hneonghase o ahnyeonghahseyo! hello hello!
d on,t matter t the words . it,s the heart that m tmatters , the heart
his is krystle baez s m i st time attending this oe poetry festiva and i sure enjoy n t e experience
life doesnt require that we be he be t only that we try our best
h. jackson brown jr said that! ! !
Troubles on my mind, My mind buzzes with the sound of unknown words buzzing through the lines that run the street’s lenght I lie awake every night wondering about every conversation taking place in the city tonight I hear the city talking I hear every word in my mind But somehow I can never come up with the words That would be exchanged between you and I If we ever saw each other again
e. alexandria for J. castellano
what can i even tell you, though about the city, or about summer, or about last year
d t g s ri devot n ther e is something so sad about love
the things you are forced to endure
because your heart chose to succumb to the attraction of mind and body and no matter how wrong is the poison
of his heart yours continues to open for him like a sad flower in the darkest bloom
y et when the last petal drops and your center has crusted
your skin weighs with acne and your back has stiffened,
to grow cumulonimbus love
love cracks my spine
roils my thunder
sparks my skin
:th nks for the poetry
coyote blood will loove yoouu
I h a e loved the stars too ondly to be fearf l of the ni h t
Lovells of trees the cherry now is hjung with bloom lon g the bo u
And tands o
s pe ak to me of the d ark d the tender universe
within Poet ry is imp ortant to me beca use all i tr uly own are my thouughts *stac ey mcadoo my n me is sophie
¢m name is shopie and i am 8 /2 years old. im visitin g my auntie in new york. her name is gretchen. i love cookie and new york city. i mi y mom and da . love me
i always think of pickingu up acorns from the warm road they were coated in a thick dust - were they then/?
even at the time i knew it would be a moment of nostalgia even then i did it not toenjoy it butto feel sorrowtolook back on
the best manifestation of the passing of a small seed
It was a dark and stormy night . . .
pier 45 th re were glistening backs . .had they gone swimming yo you asked, i sourly resp nded no
ks c i . y st risin f omm he r und s a lowi n e hawks ircling the quarry. hw
a t r lat ered over rocks lath red and fizzed
into green moss hair i kick against brick wall, iron there is no one at home, doing the dishes,
thinking of my name
we would meet once a month during full moons and share crystalized energies -stained napkins
i cannot trace my life in a straight line.m ybe if my words are among
the many, they will amount to something. she s ands behind me to my l elft. typo. th t ha pens when i think of her. may e tomorrow ill be better.
iI i can8’t nlt be lieve that I am typing in a typewriter,
The sound of clicking and each striking marks the progression of my wo
This takes me back to the origin of vcreationq iceic elp
Mais biem sur ! ! Which seventeen-century poet anticipated Markowich’s take on blank verse. . . ? Er. . . Shakespeare? MAIS BIEN SUR ! ! !
I am an airplane or jet overhead
I am a swarm of bees. I rushed in. I died. I thank you.
d eja dzeja i rasa berni n dzejn eki to lasa RAINIS ASP
dzeja ka deja
deja ka dzeja
dzenis kal koka kok a dzenis kal int nse o ds owjil w w e
om e words s illed
from the rivers f our
m uths, hundred f hou s bu lt
into a marriage
come b ck to me no
rt n bay i sl nd
ef le he d
e did not get ar today t hertz
he is ha py that we did not get a cat
HIS MY poem for m mom
we would meet once a month
during full moons and share crystalized energies
how to convince you that this skin bleeds red that these eyes cry tears that these hands yearn to grasp freedom
how to convince you that my life matters. . .
-raquel penzo h
where technonologyf failed fate prevailed // jessian
we sat tyipyjsi ii ocean hello laura hd fgass we sa
we l anyway i can remember days where i was so close
t o my feelings and writing wa s as
d rinking !
i was calling those preciou s hours days of spiritual r ising
I was meeting with myself
i wis i could da te again
on n e nait pqs femme on l e devient
m nds org raves
i t is an odd place with odd eople
bu t i i don 8t feel
mom s esprie clqcmure da ns une fe ille morte le degele . . .
l l albatros
sou vent ,pour s amus er, l le ho m s d e upages
M n s
My f nge s ca
M y fngers caress d the silk
that ts your thigh
as th e tiny hairs
began to stand at atten in
awaiti ng c riously what my
fingers would do next
your legs separated appre hensivel y
wi h the s light push of two fingers. this hand of mine, creepingl gently -- in hing forward toward the humidity that lived between the lips th t i des erately wanted
imagining the sistine chapel completely blank
white6walled , beckoning the brilliance of a certain a rtist;s
sroeke the sistine chapel gi e herself completely
she gent y ofersher ef to him comple ely
i ready to be molded intoherelf welcomesmicch elste
i suk at this lo
love to yoi
r andom spontane ou
this is the naughty list
where is y ur favorite ship
someth ng bright s mething slit
y our dress l ooks so lit
- am to the pm
t raffic , traffic widespread hacvoc
glo rify thee t his tree was not meant f r me.
its for you , you creation of love and w nder
SORRY I AM N T ET I JUST WANT TO USE TYPEWRITER
I ENJ OYED THE FESTIVAL AND FINGER EXERCISE THANK YOU ALL! ! ! !
THIS MADE AN ADORABLE BELL NOISE AND ALSO
I RESPECT THE SECRETARIES OF OLD WAY MORE NOW! ! GOOD WORK GIRLS!
GAY RIGHTS! ! ! ! -SIGNING OFF
everything revol es around serotonin
what’s a ser otonin that which we call serot nin by any ther name
would still convey jack shit let’s go geologic l it runs in the famil
y sometimes you are phosphorus instead, breathe on you and you
h onest attempt
h onewt attempt honewt at lawt that wlurrin g was our solace a gainst the whirring machines of design a nd specifications of unite d fantasy that I still hold true, sober of the drunk of you i love you kianna 1⁄2 i magical bean; u k oops i m an fuck. . . .by e. . .damn. .again.
o v nt, pour mus r, l s hommes d q uipages pr nnent d salbatro s,
v ste ois au desmer ,qui suivent , indolent compagnon de voyages ,
le na ire g issant sur les gouffres amers.
the subco nscio s of the city, what a be u iful t g it is.
howw are we all the same yet different? yet you are more than you can
ever imagine. the light of the world you are, the da rkness of it all
the binarty and the no nbinary. sometimes t hey do n t
stubborn minds are amongst us,
how ar e we to change a world
that isb begging to change, when weare all
screa ming help me first?
will poetry ever be en ough for selfish soul
sunday july 29th 2018: NYCPoFest Day 2
is e is daniel and i want to eat lebanese food. this typewriter
pretty cool. i hope Toum g ives me free food. Yi Lan sucks
Bronx science Key Club.
she said do you love me helo
wesley is weird.
The re was