Friday Fun: Dadaist Poetry

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Victoria gives us a superb introduction to Dadaist art and poetry and invites us to play along. I once planned to collaborate on a screenplay about Tristan Tzara and the Dadaists, so it’s a subject dear to my heart (even though I don’t like all of their ‘artefacts’).  There is much to admire about this ‘anti-art’, anti-establishment movement, because it’s not just nihilistic disillusionment but very active, vital and collaborative. I leave with this quote by Tristan Tzara:

Dada never preached, having no theory to defend. It showed truths in action… I speak only of myself since I do not wish to convince, I have on right to drag others into my river… everybody practises his art in his own way.


SummertimeSummer Holiday Beach Fun – Dada-Style

Acrid child or burning bodies

clunk-pok rackets stilt conversations

fine falling in fishy-grained hesitance

glistening in half-heard hum

I’m knocked of my over off perch

lukewarm lapping

seaweed sound

tangle of waves with wooden wailing

When Lightning Strikes Writers’ Block Alley

Today at dVerse Poets Form for All, Charles wants us to go all Dadaist and use Tristan Tzara’s cut-up lines and random words pulled out of a hat so as to capture that elusive flash of inspiration.  I turned to a poem I had recently been struggling to write and mashing it up (appropriately enough) helped break down my mental barriers.  And I’ve never used spaces much before, so this was additional experimentation. This was fun!

How long before it leaves                  me

was it fevered shock

what if it never strikes again


It came as a gurgle – and turned into hiss


           shook thunder



And when it finally shuddered out loose

it swept all before it               ignored the well-worn

Ah, paths

Ah, old groove!

From near to afar that glisten of new

no mistakes yet to clutter

Cleanse all ye moods

longings adrift

upwind endless to explore