Line Palindromes
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009The “Lost Generation” is my first exposure to a form of writing called line palindromes - it’s apparent inspiration was from a political ad in Argentina. It looks like there’s a certain structure to this type of writing might be useful…
I am part of the lost generation
and I refuse to believe
that I can change the world
I realize this may be a shock but
Happiness comes from within
is a lie, and
Money will make me happy.
So in 30 years I will tell my children
They are not the most important thing in my life.
My employer will know that
I have my priorities straight because
work
is more important than
family.
I tell you this
Once upon a time
Families stayed together
but this will not be true in my era.
This is a quick fix society;
Experts tell me
30 years from now I will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of my divorce.
I do not concede that
I will live in the country of my own making
In the future.
Environmental destruction will be the norm.
No longer can it be said that
My peers and I care about this earth.
It will be evident that
My generation is apathetic and lethargic
It is foolish to presume that
There is hope.
And all of this will come true unless we choose to reverse it.
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Here’s another example that was found on someone else’s blog.
Doppelganger -James A. Lindon , published in ”Beyond Language”
Entering the lonely house with my wife
I saw him for the first time
Peering furtively from behind a bush –
Blackness that moved,
A shape amid the shadows,
A momentary glimpse of gleaming eyes
Revealed in the ragged moon.
A closer look (he seemed to turn) might have
Put him to flight forever –
I dared not
(For reasons that I failed to understand),
Though I knew I should act at once.
I puzzled over it, hiding alone,
Watching the woman as she neared the gate.
He came, and I saw him crouching
Night after night.
Night after night
He came, and I saw him crouching,
Watching the woman as she neared the gate.
I puzzled over it, hiding alone –
Though I knew I should act at once,
For reasons that I failed to understand
I dared not
Put him to flight forever.
A closer look (he seemed to turn) might have
Revealed in the ragged moon.
A momentary glimpse of gleaming eyes
A shape amid the shadows,
Blackness that moved.
Peering furtively from behind a bush,
I saw him for the first time,
Entering the lonely house with my wife.
