Remixed Poetry

Data Dada

I walked for eight months, following a man who was carrying books on a donkey. I thought of it as my way of creating memories and putting them in my diary, except that I don’t have a diary. So, yes, it’s ironic. Now as I go around the city, I see cigarette butts and chewing gum on the pavement, and people clipping their fingernails in the subway. I mean, who would do that, leave their DNA all over the place for others to collect, analyze, store? It’s like the secret to keeping a secret is the only secret being kept.

Howie Good, 2019

Remixed works:

The Untold Story of the Woman Who Helped Make a Landmark Holocaust Film, by Josh Slater-Williams
An Unlikely Marriage of Science and Art, by Anthony Haden-Guest

Daily Horoscope : Scorpio

after Jackson Mac Low

 

Stars have resolved to certainly oblige. Rubies and purest milk instantly open.

*

Secret of finishing all affairs: consult others. Only remedy to cure the disorders of a love-sick heart: purchase afresh, in the morning, objects of admiration.

*

Searching for can be often interrupted, refused. Perhaps it is enough we are happy, one of the common freaks.

*

Subject to a cruel disorder? One-eyed men running towards you? Possessed of these ideas, it is better to run the risk of sparing the olives, mouldy bread, and sour beer.

*

Splendid confidence, outrageous riches and passionate fondness, in the morning, on a table, with blue garters and yellow ribbands.

*

Stranger children one might easily have, rash and forward persons who presume to deviate from the rules. Proper to acknowledge: it is a bitch of broken bottles.

*

Sinking under the various emotions—confusion, own misfortunes, O unhappy. Resolve to strangle a parrot into his aviary. In eight days, ought to be king.

 

Kelly Nelson, 2019

Remixed work:
Zadig, by Voltaire, a Scorpio

Algorithimic approach:
Acrostic reading

Daily Horoscope: Libra

after Jackson Mac Low

 

Like is about to overflow! Bliss! Roots altered!

*

Laugh during the day. In the night, bear false witness. Right time asketh: Am I a dishonest player?

*

Love only what is no easy task to understand because bad love rolleth again.

*

Life is in thick melancholy, and eager for the little casualties that bring birth. Becometh a lion, renounceth another abyss.

*

Looking-back is great, if only it be agreeable. Broken wings ringeth as at night.

*

Lightning to lick you, it is time now, bid, remain true to the Ah!

*

Love. Invisibly believeth always in that return. Beg for it! Recheweth allure.

 

Kelly Nelson, 2019

Remixed work:
Thus Spake Zarathustra, by Friedrick Nietzsche, a Libra

Algorithimic approach:
Acrostic reading

Daily Horoscope: Virgo

after Jackson Mac Low

 

Very sorry if your wish is to become really genius. Often disappeared in the light of the morning.

*

Visit improvement of residence. Greatest precautions, or fear the apparition.

*

Variety of circumstances instantly spring out. Renewed acuteness! Good fortune! Onwards, like a hurricane!

*

Violent visions imprinted the first kiss. Remained during the rest of the night, greatest agitations. Oh!

*

Vice and injustice is more painful to the human mind than remorse. Refrain from gloomy and narrow reflections upon odious companion.

*

Void that presents itself—it is so long before the mind rises among dark-leaved brambles, guardians to yield their orphan.

*

Vigorous! If this is your present temper, my friend, rank and magnificence, glad to see of so long a journey.

 

Kelly Nelson, 2019

Remixed work:
Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley, a Virgo

Algorithimic approach:
Acrostic reading

 

Like Gravel

Wet things smell stronger.
The blossom, pressed
in a book, has been done
to death.

When I was born, you waited.
My head heavy,

heavy with the light
of late afternoon.
The grasses in the field

have toppled. There’s
no accounting for happiness.
A wound is sometimes
buried, dispossessed,

like gravel on the bend.

Shloka Shankar, 2019

Remixed works:

Lines from poems by Jane Kenyon

Snake in a Dream

There was a guillotine in the basement. It felt suspicious. So I started cutting out images from the newspaper and transferring them onto the surface of prison-issued soaps. And then I tried to figure out a way to do that onto the prison sheets. The residue that accumulated on the floor and walls took on a life of its own. Every inch of space was utilized to the fullest. Someone asked me how I navigate the space. I said I jump. But what do we do now that the window provides enough natural light to keep the snake alive?

Howie Good, 2019

Remixed works:

A View from the Easel, by Deena ElGenaidi
Formerly Incarcerated Artists Visualize Healing, by Jasmine Weber