Verbatim found poetry is an intriguing collection of found poems. Poems found in ordinary, and not so ordinary places. Submit yours.
Let us also recognize
our own native
detachable snake-hips,
our rangy legs,
our educated feet.
Our arms and fingers
wave and snap
in a special way.
Our shoulders hang
as no other people’s
shoulders hang.
Taken from ‘Musical Myths of the American West’, by Stephen Brown, a review of two books in the Times Literary Supplement, 9 November 2012. The poem is a quotation from the writings of Lincoln Kirstein. Submitted by Rishi Dastidar.
Even our ideas
Rick
are most certainly not our own
We have read everything
somewhere
or have heard it
somewhere
We’ve got nothing
really
except each other
And we hate each other
From a discussion of the political divide on Salon.com. Submitted by Wesley Brown.
And
painters don’t
know they are.
Not
Ed Ruscha.
Not Robert Indiana.
They
just don’t
know. But they
are.
It’s good
they don’t know.
They’d
be impoverished
by their art
if
they knew.
Taken from a blogpost on the blog dbqp, 12th November 2012. “They’d” has been contracted from “They would”. Submitted by Andrew Bailey.
Wait until the moon is out
then go outside
eat a multi-grained bread
and play your guitar to a bush.
If the bush doesn’t shake
eat another piece of bread.
From Captain Beefheart’s 10 Commandments of Guitar Playing. Submitted by Grace Andreacchi.
Slippers are designed
to be slipped into
without help from the hand.
They are monuments to
the hatred of bending down.
A quotation from Theodor W. Adorno’s Minima Moralia: Reflections on Damaged Life, first published in 1951. Submitted by Marika Rose.
I remember running
across the sand at Seaforth beach
when I was three
chasing a red bouncing ball
and hearing my aunt scream
before picking me up
her stepping between silver studs
in the sand
I’d run into a minefield
There was no red ball
It was the family dog
that I had chased
It had been blown up
(From Roger McGough: this much I know. Submitted by Lisa Oliver)
An upstairs room
with red and gold chairs,
military pictures,
a dumb waiter.
A corner bar
with interesting lights-
An intriguing locked cabinet.
And below,
a framed photograph
of the queen.
Taken from an update email sent to a poetry group after a meeting on 21st October in the Duke of William pub, Matlock. ‘And’ has been added to line 8. Submitted by Margaret.
By all means
let us have a policy
of full employment,
increased production,
no gap between exports and imports,
social security,
a balanced This
and a planned That,
but let us also
have fountains –
more and more fountains –
higher and higher fountains –
fountains like wine,
like blue and green fire,
fountains like diamonds –
and rainbows
in every square.
Taken from J B Priestly’s book Delight, first published in 1949. Submitted by Ailsa Holland.
I hurry in the clothes I’ve now got on,
trousers and ragged jacket; the bald place
upon my head made by thrusting the corves;
my legs have never swelled, but sisters’ did
when they went to mill; I hurry the corves
a mile and more under ground and back;
they weigh three hundredweight; I hurry
eleven a-day; I wear a belt and chain
at the workings to get the corves out;
the getters that I work for are naked
except their caps; they pull off all their clothes;
I see them at work when I go up; sometimes
they beat me, if I am not quick enough,
with their hands; they strike me upon my back;
the boys take liberties with me sometimes,
pull me about; I am the only girl
in the pit; there are about twenty boys
and fifteen men; all the men are naked;
I would rather work in mill than in pit.
(17-year-old Patience Kershaw’s account of working in a Halifax coal pit, from Facts and Figures, May 1842)
Malcolm was dreadful
John was quite damaged
Malcolm and Kitty were part of the Fabian set
like Bloomsbury in sexual licence
but with more socialism and less art
Taken from an email discussing the Muggeridge family. Some punctuation omitted. Submitted by Grace Andreacchi.
Verbatim Poetry 
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