Literature On Found Objects
13October 17, 2010 by Marcus Speh (Birkenkrahe)
“I am like the sun…” on stone
[We're vacationing in Corpus Christi, Texas, right now, and I've vowed not to write on paper or keyboard while here. Since she saw me suffer, my dear wife suggested I could write flash on shells, stones or scales found at the beach. And I did!
Breaking away from the warmth and the wiliness of Texas to quickly send you this with the digital wind, instead of a card.]
Selected Works of a Hermit Crab Written on Shells, Stones and Scales
1. I’m like the sun: there’s only one of me. I’m like the last beat of your heart: no sound escapes my hollow. Do not publish what you don’t understand: copies do not cement truth, they bury it. If you believe in stony men they’ll skewer your smile. Stick to soft surfaces: your skin is never the same surprise.
2. I’m an infant caught in a broken shell by a powerful curse. Say “ME” aloud bowing North, South, West, East and you’ll take my place for a 1000 years. Or say nothing and remain who you are, flaws and farts, fearful fantasies and all.
3. A man made his living by writing prose poems on found shells using the finest calligraphy ever seen. Whenever anyone tried to copy his fragile creations, they lost all their might. The president of his country gave 9 of his texts, consisting of 100 words each, written on the dried skinless skulls of the rare Sargasso sea turtle to the heads of state of the world’s 9 leading nations. One day a master thief stole all nine skulls and held them ransom for 1 billion dollars. Subsequently, the heads of state met with the prose poet for 1 incredibly long hour in which he painted one letter on the nail of the right thumb of each of them. The letters spelled “never mind”. From that day on, politics turned poetic and never again became the butterfly business it had been before.
Wrote on found objects only during our Texas vacation.
4. I’m no poet, I’m an oyster. That’s why I can be brutally honest: you hold death in your palm – I was murdered by time as we all are. But I rode my wave to the end: that’s courage!
5. The love that longs, lasts.
Published in ILK Journal and included in the > language > place carnival #3 by Blue Print Review ed. by Nicolette Wong.
Absolutely beautiful in sight and so very true in each choice of word/s and composition of the words into poetry… i met your works for the first time tonight after a recommendation from a friend on FB and feel much richer in soul heart. Thank you for sharing such wonders. x
Marcus, I so love the words on the ‘alternative media’! You are such an artist. Peace…
These are so awesome. And that’s about as articulate as I can get right now.
Hello Marcus
I found your blog through Michelle Elvy’s and I’ve read your stuff on Fictionaut too. You might have read about the Language/Place blog carnival which Michelle participated in last time.
http://virtual-notes.blogspot.com/2010/11/language-place-blog-carnival.html
I’d like to include this post in the December edition of the blog carnival which I’ll be hosting. It’s a wonderful piece of writing and I want to include more creative pieces than those usual blog posts people tend to submit
Would you be happy to send a brief description of yourself and this post to:
langplace@gmail.com
Thanks and I look forward to hearing from you.
Nicolette
Loved reading this again.
Did you return these to there resting spots..this would complete a wonderful circle..
good for nicolette to find you and share you at the language/place carnival! i have a strip of white birch bark longing for a story.
this is double beautiful and inspiring – both the idea of writing on found objects on a beach, and the texts that sparked from it.
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[...] thought strikes me as mad, crude and lacking in humbleness. it makes me want to write prose poems on shells, stones and bones again and thrust them into the ocean as artefacts, as unique as a scent or a squeaking chair in the [...]