the recipe of found words

I have never been good with recipes but I think I found out one worth sharing. The meal is called "a poem of found words" and it is the living proof that homeworks might be fun and interesting. The meal is easy to prepare and best served cold. One might share it with people, but the preparing part is a solo mission. And like every solo mission requires good music as a background (Tricky, Bonobo or whatever floats your boat). There are several easy steps and it starts like that...

1. Dress well if it's cold outside. Put comfortable shoes. Take a bottle of water and a backpack. Stick these headphones of yours in your ears. Take a deep breath. Ignore any incoming calls. Clear your mind. This is the most difficult of all steps. Don't worry - the fun starts when your feet touch the pavement outside and when you light up the first of many cigarettes.

2. Don't ever think about a route. Just walk. Choose a part of town and explore it. Look at the people. Follow the people. Pay attention to what they look at. Take every small street or alley you chance to ponder. Walk slowly. Keep your camera (or in my case phone) ready. Look at the gutters, the trashing bins, the benches. Look on what you tread. Look at the roofs, look at the walls. And don't think. Just search for words. There are words everywhere. Your mind is full of words, so try to block them and give space to new ones. To new experiences. Stop and enjoy the things you see. Collect, collect, collect...

3. Stop collecting. Sit on a bench and light one more. Breath in heavily. Now think. Now try to comprehend the wor(l)d.

4. Don't start writing your poem yet. Let a couple of days pass. Talk to people. Laugh with them, cry with them, whatever. Just share some experiences.

5. Go out. But not the same routine. Take a friend with you. Sit in a café (Coffee Company if you are pretentious fuck like me). Take a latte. Taste it and get your pencil and a piece of paper. Lay your collection of words in front of you. Now write, write, write... Assemble the words, assemble your memories, assemble your feelings.

6. Look at the end result.

Zwarte poesie

Pissed off in limbo,

hey me!!!

Strong as death

but sweet as love.

Rocking my territory, smashing...

and stealing from work.

A squatted world, a clone town.

Cuz coffee is black as hell

and if the kids are united

we'll never be divided.

7. Now write some more...

plovdiv walk-through

"...a rat became the unit of currency"

Zbigniew Herbert from Report from the Besieged City

"You see that pack of Virginia killing sticks on the end of the piano? All you need to know about life is retained in those four walls. You will notice that one of your personalities is seduced by the illusions of grandeur - the gold packet of king size with a regal insignia, an attractive implication towards grandeur and wealth, the subtle suggestion that cigarettes are indeed your royal and loyal friends, and that, Pete, is a lie.

Your other personality is trying to draw your attention to the flip side of the discussion, written in boring bold black and white; it's a statement that these neat little soldiers of death are in fact trying to kill you and that, Pete, is the truth.

Oh, beauty is a beguiling call to death and I’m addicted to the sweet pitch of its siren.

That that starts sweet ends bitter, and that which starts bitter ends sweet.

That is why you and I love the drugs and that is also why I cannot give that painting back. Now please, pass me a light.”

Johnny Quid from RocknRolla