I'm taking a Modern Poetry Class online (free I might add!) which has turned out to be absolutely delightful. My two sweetest finds have been Emily Dickinson and Jack Kerouac. Jack coined a writing technique called Babble Flow. It's essentially shutting off the critical, editing mind and allowing language free flow reign in creating the piece. Traditionally there's very little, if any punctuation and editing. Since Babble Flow is often read, the creation is a melodious flow of sound with the listener instructed to let the images appear like snapshots of a photograph versus language and words. Here's an example of Jack Kerouac reading one of my favorite pieces of his, October in the Railroad Earth. He has an incredible voice and cadence, it's well worth the treat. Below is my experiment with Babble Flow, hope you enjoy. Since it's being read by you and not spoken by me, I added additional punctuation to hopefully aid your visual picture....
Full Moon Paddle (an experiment with Jack Kerouac’s
Babble Flow)
©Karla Johnston, InnerConstellation.com
Written 10/20/13
Battery dead, jump start (I need that too at 5:30pm) drive to the
Beacon (will call us home) put battery worry to rest old drunkard struggling to
lift his boat, going as we're coming, bright blue eyes in full gray beard sparkle
as up on truck another set of hands help sun's last light cross south east
waters, push off west across the shadows, past mouth-watering BBQ, music piping,
warm lamps burning bits and pieces of conversation, past Valhalla Pier, groom
holds his bride up towards twilight kick of manicured foot rustles haloed silk
and lace, flashing bulbs portend delicious night, calm peace beginnings of
glass, water creatures migrating dots towards inlet Kokanee Salmon struggling
against an inner current, birth of life will not stop,
wide wing pattern turns a circle in front of mount Tallac, stark
white tail and head feathers confirm avian blessing swooping down upon teaming
waters as distant planet holds a constant light we just begin to see pulse
above Tallac's cross, kayaks couple for the evening show, opening act takes
flight to perch in far off snag, layers fished from dry bags as above begins a
symphony
Big Dipper to North Star to Cassiopeia and then main attraction
steals the show with ooohs and aaahs, peeks through lowest notch in eastern
mountains, necks crane in still coupled kayaks before turning, comfortable
banter ceases as devotees gaze: fire orange fullness crests jagged, rises
through clear crisp atmosphere, lovers bob, illuminated white swathed liquid
night turns silver, thoughtful offering is presented (by beloved boy scout) early
Halloween Twix, bump chocolate sticks, touch sweet caramel sacrament to lips,
fuel for paddle home as toward night glow we go
past Aspens imagined golds, waft of Kokanee struggle ended, party
just beginning, conversations dwindling, Canada Geese, heads tucked and
floating, kayaks skim beneath the pier to touch the quiet shores load boats
with thick hands, contented sighs as fully charged we arrive safely home.
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