Showing posts with label Found Poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Found Poem. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 18, 2025

A Note from the Coca-Cola Company

"We have a beverage
for every occasion on Earth
and even 30, 000 feet
above it." Coca-Cola,

a multinational corporation
based on syrup and water,
left me this note on a napkin,
on a gray plastic tray in an airplane

whose engines roared, whose
flight attendants fought
boredom and ritual whining.
Water turned ouit to be

the beverage for that occasion.

hans ostrom 2025

Monday, August 19, 2019

Local Residents Are Disturbed


      (found poem based on news headlines)


Disgruntled diner shoots waiter
to death over sandwich delay. Girl
dies after being left in hot car.
"Stand your ground" trial begins
in killing over handicapped
parking spot. Giant hand statue
touches down in New Zealand
and local residents are disturbed.
At least 6 teens are shot at Houston
"instant house party" organized
on Snapchat. A man has been
arrested for allegedly threatening
to shoot up a Jewish center in Ohio.
Lynching reemerges in new rhetoric
of hate. Fracking prompts global
spike in atmospheric methane,
study shows. Climate change
to shrink economies of rich
and poor, hot and cold countries
alike. Hottest month on record
for the planet, scientists say.


hans ostrom 2019



Friday, March 30, 2018

Implied Narrative from a Language Lesson

(translated)

Can you please be a little more
quiet? I want to hug you. I
want to kiss you. I need to use
the bathroom. I want to move here.



hans ostrom 2018

Friday, August 7, 2015

Friday, August 8, 2014

Found Poem: "Rates"

Of course,
the closer you are to your
death-bed,
the higher
the rates will be.


Hans Ostrom 2014

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Christmas Found Poem

You should know two things before you read this. One, the language was directed at me, and, two, there is cursing.


Christmas Found Poem


I think you
are the only
one I can
think of who
would say something
like ". . . Those
fucking Christmas
macaroons."


hans ostrom 2013

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Found Poem: They're All Dead, Ashes

Message on my phone
when I arrived home that
I was late for the grooming
appointment for my animals.
They'll be hard to groom.
They're all dead, ashes.....



found Feb. 27 2013
hans ostrom 2013

Thursday, December 27, 2012

The Number of Likes in the New Era

(found language)


i want to puke bc 
my friends'  lives now revolve 
around the number of likes their pictures get on facebook
 and instagram and there are only a handful left who still have souls
 so who wants to be my friend


hans ostrom 2012

I Like your URL: Compliments in the New Era

(found language)

I like your URL
 and seriously enjoy your blog
One of muh favs! :3
And your smiles amazuhn! Lol
and you are  so not rude. Lol
you're seriously love
on here,  though--
like one person says something and
10 peeps back you up(: I enjoy that.


hans ostrom 2012


Monday, October 15, 2012

Giant Eye

(found language)

Giant Florida eye
is from
swordfish,
state says.


Hans Ostrom, 2012

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Asshole-ishness: Overheard

He: I'm sick of their asshole-ishness.
She: Me, too. But Leona's different than Karl.
He: Yeah, Leona has a reason to be an asshole,
but Karl--he's just an asshole.
She: That's right.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Category: Vulvas (a found poem)





Category: Vulvas. Note:  This
category should be empty. Any
content should be recategorized.
This tag should be used

on existing categories
that are likely to be used by others,
even though the “real”
category is elsewhere.


 Hans Ostrom, 2012

found on wikipedia


 

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Monday, August 20, 2012

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Found-Poem Finale For April


(image: badger, not greasy)
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Well, I had several poems in mind to post on this last day of write-a-poem-a-day month, a.k.a National Poetry Month.
*
Then I read the newspaper this morning--the Tacoma News Tribune, which, like all newspapers, is getting smaller all the time, it seems. On page three of the first section, political writer Peter Callaghan had a piece on local building-codes and developers.
Here is one quotation from that piece: "Which is where the 'greasy badgers' came in. That's the phrase architect David Boe, the vice chairman of the [planning] commisssion, used to describe the ornery animals he sometimes has as clients (figuratively, I hope). They ask him to design buildings that 'maximize the site.'"
*
I was, of course, interested in Callaghan's use of "figuratively," for, as a poet, I was hoping that the fellow's clients were literally badgers. Ah, well. To each his own. On behalf of badgers, I was a little insulted that they were described as greasy and compared to developers. What did they do to deserve that?
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But the "found-poem" lay in the headline, so thanks to the headline-writer who worked on Callaghan's piece. I have arranged the headline as a poem, and I think the found-poem is nice way to finish off National Poetry Month in this wee badger-den of the blogosphere.
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Found Poem
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Building codes
Can't save us.
We're at the mercy
Of
Developers' moods.
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from The News Tribune (Tacoma), April 30, p. A-3, bottom.