there was a picture i found on the barn floor that i never took; a tribute to three slices of a butterfly wing that will never fly again. just like that sunset that won’t die again for the wound will bleed differently tonight. was it wrong that i kept it to myself?
Once upon a time, a rain-drenched Evelyn and a sunshine-splashed Emma decided to take an assortment of books from their skyscraper book piles and make poems out of the titles.
You may be wondering—why books? Why poems? What is found poetry?
🎶 We have answers 🎶
Books are beautiful and are also reincarnated trees, so that’s cool.
Poems make you Feel Things [and poetry-writing is one of my only skills. Help.]
Found poetry = taking little teensy snippets of words from completed literary works and constructing them into an original poem. [It sounds like fancy plagiarizing, but it’s not. Look it up.]
If you’re ever stuck wandering by the calamitous corner of Writer’s Block, found poetry can lead you back to the paths of waterfalling words. [It works for me 99 percent of the time, but if you’re a novelist whose creative juices are all dried up and you try bookbinder poetry and become addicted and then become a Bookbinder Poet Extraordinaire and never touch novel writing again—I apologize ahead of time.]
A few weeks ago, Eve and I had the ABSOLUTELY WILDLY AMAZING experience of getting to meet The One and Only Evelyn The Great. She’s one of the most aesthetic people on the planet and getting to hike with her and see her face and talk with her about books and God and music and writing and blogging was wonderful. [fun fact—Evelyn was our first blog follower other than our family members. She’s a special person.] 🙂
Evelyn’s blog will bless you forevermore, and I ~highly~ recommend it. ❤ ❤ ❤