Verbatim found poetry is an intriguing collection of found poems. Poems found in ordinary, and not so ordinary places. Submit yours.
Baby chicks hatch out of eggs
Smoke goes up a chimney
Chess is a kind of game
Spilt ink makes a splotch
Broken bones can be set in a splint
Rain splashes into puddles
The lamb has a woolly coat
The carving knife is long and sharp
A wren is a small brown bird
Sentences out of my homework book from when I was 6. We had to put words into sentences three at a time.
Magnetic Boys Talk
boots glue monster scary bones
racing moon helicopter aeroplane
tractor money lorry wizard conkers
frogs sticks mud dirt spiders snails
stones bubbles sweets flags magic
pond string grass rugby bug dogs
caterpillar cobweb worms dinosaur
dragon bike scooter forest treasure
climbing swinging skeleton running
ghost trees swimming lawnmower
treehouse blue football chocolate car
Magnetic Girls Talk
clothes hairband heart love sparkle
perfume beads necklace furry lipstick
ribbon handbag wand glitter fairies
fluff candy flowers wings sherbet
bubbles sweets pink make-up skipping
magic dancing ballet bunnies rainbow
ladybird lemonade stars sky shoes
chocolate doll party secret diary hair
jewels princess queen tiara ice-cream
teddy music sunshine birds butterfly
sugar angel diamond cooking friends
‘Favourite Boys words’ and ‘favourite Girls words’ as found on fridge magnets, via The Kraken Wakes. By Simon Williams.
Banners of
Spanish moss hide
the feathery foliage of
living trees, cover up dead stumps.
Through the vast
drowned swamp two tiny
streams creep sluggishly to join
at last before a spit of quaking land.
From Suwannee River Strange Green Land, Cecile Hulse Matschat (1938). By Dawn Corrigan.
I hope you always get your squash to water ratio wrong;
the new carpet in your office means that you constantly get static shocks;
you approach someone in the street and you both move to the same side
and the top comes off your salt pot and you get too much on your chips –
not loads, just too much for them to be nice.
I hope you’re offered a Revel and get the coffee one;
the next delivery you’re to receive between 8am-6pm arrives at 5.59;
in the middle of the night you need a wee, and in the dark end up standing on a lego brick
and you make toast one day, really looking forward to toast and jam,
and don’t have any jam.
I hope you accidentally get given a foreign coin in your change;
you discover the milk is off only once you’ve added it to your tea;
you can’t play your favourite pentatonic song because you’ve removed the black keys
and you ask for The Wicker Man on dvd for your birthday
and get the Nicolas Cage remake.
I hope your tattoo artist can’t spell Britain.
Selected from tweets with the hashtag #Edlmisfortunes. By Angi Holden.
I miss you. I hark back to the friendship
we used to have, impromptu adventures,
knowing the everyday details of each
other’s lives, nights in watching trashy TV.
I’ve been there at 3am when you’ve clutched
my hand and explained he’s dependable
and he’ll make a great father. I want to
tell you that it’s the 21st century
but you don’t listen to me any more.
I am impeccably polite. I put on
a rictus grin when you spend an hour
discussing your wedding plans. I am
becoming a souvenir of your past life,
to be gradually discarded for
women you can play doubles tennis with.
I’m happy for you. But I wish you’d call.
I want to sit out in privety
with my dressing-gown on
and nobody to see
but it must have a balcony.
Then I can finish my writing.
It’s a hundred-and-forty a night, with a hot tub.
That’s no good. I can’t write
with a fountainpen in a hot tub.
I wonder if there’s background music.
I can’t have the sort of music
that keeps you jumpin’ all the while.
There needs to be quiet.
The windows have got to open.
I must hear water all the time.
If I get a room that’s luxurious
I’ll get writing in half the time.
I want to see Rooms One and Eight.
I want to see if they’ll do.
I don’t need you to come with me,
but I’ll need you to move in with me.
It’s all sketched out already,
just waiting to be filled in.
I’m tense till I get this settled.
Can’t get my head round it till then.
Overheard in a hotel bar in Ludlow, Shropshire, 10 March 2013. By John Killic.
Food, or, You need to know what I dislike
avocado, eggplant, usually
(there are occasional exceptions)
hot pepper, olives, liver
(even in trace quantities)
stomach and intestine, other organ meats
cooked tuna, oysters, egg yolk
if the taste is noticeable,
except when boiled completely hard
many strong cheeses, especially those
with green fungus, desserts
that contain fruit or liqueur flavors
sour fruits, such as grapefruit
and many oranges, beer, coffee
though weak coffee flavor can be good
in desserts, the taste of alcohol
so I don’t drink anything stronger than wine
From the detailed requirements that Richard Stallman sends ahead of his speaking engagements.
Richard Stallman’s rider 1
Richard Stallman’s rider 2
Richard Stallman’s rider 3
Richard Stallman’s rider 5
Pets
I like cats if they are friendly,
but they are not good for me;
I am somewhat allergic to them.
This allergy
makes my face itch and my eyes
water. So the bed, and the room
I will usually be staying in,
need to be clean of cat hair.
However, it is no problem
if there is a cat elsewhere
in the house – I might enjoy it
if the cat is friendly.
Dogs that bark angrily
and or jump up on me
frighten me, unless they are small
and cannot reach above my knees.
But if they only bark or jump
when we enter the house,
I can cope, as long as you
hold the dog away from me
at that time. Aside from that
issue, I’m ok with dogs.
If you can find a host for me
that has a friendly parrot,
I will be very very glad.
If you can find someone who
has a friendly parrot I can
visit with, that will be nice too.
DON’T buy a parrot figuring
that it will be a fun surprise
for me. To acquire a parrot
is a major decision:
it is likely to outlive you.
If you don’t know how to treat
the parrot, it could be emotionally
scarred and spend many decades
feeling frightened and unhappy.
If you buy a captured wild
parrot, you will promote a cruel
and devastating practice,
and the parrot will be emotionally
scarred before you get it.
Meeting that sad animal
is not an agreeable surprise.
From the detailed requirements that Richard Stallman sends ahead of his speaking engagements.
Richard Stallman’s rider 1
Richard Stallman’s rider 3
Richard Stallman’s rider 4
Richard Stallman’s rider 5
John have you got your umbrella
I think it’s going to rain. Can you
come play with me? If I told you
once I told you a hundred times.
Things here just aren’t the same without
Mother, I will now sign your
affectionate brother James. Oh
what am I going to do? So
I said to her I said if he
thinks she’s going to stand for that but
then there’s his arthritis poor thing
and no work. I love you. I hate
you. I hate liver. Joan dear did
you feed the sheep, don’t just stand around
mooning. Tell me what they said, tell
me what you did. Oh how my feet
do hurt. My heart is breaking. Touch
me here, touch me again. Once bit
twice shy. You look like what the cat
dragged in. What a beautiful night.
Good morning, hello, goodbye, have
a nice day, thanks. God damn you to
hell you lying cheat. Pass the soy
sauce please. Oh shit. Is it grandma’s
own sweet pretty dear? What am I
going to tell her? There there don’t
cry. Go to sleep now, go to sleep….
Don’t go to sleep!
From a commencement address given by Ursula le Guin at Bryn Mawr College, 1986. By Jim.
A large percentage of what you claim
happens to be astonishingly accurate
and it makes me ponder why I hadn’t
looked at this in this light previously.
This article really did turn the light
on for me as far as this specific
subject goes. But there is one point I am
not necessarily too cozy with
so whilst I make an effort to reconcile
that with the main theme of your point, permit
me to see exactly what all the rest
of your visitors have to point out.
A spam comment from the blog SmyWord.
Verbatim Poetry 
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