Archives for posts with tag: erasure poetry

Erasure _ Shankar
Chapter 9 Erasure Poem
by Shloka Shankar

the shadowy glow
of the moon began
to melt away

I became the whispers
of all human dreams;
neither understood nor desired,

face to face with
the orgastic future.

SOURCE: An erasure culled out from Chapter 9 of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Shloka Shankar is a freelance writer from India. She loves experimenting with all forms of the written word, and has found her niche in Japanese short-forms and found poetry. Some of her poems have recently appeared in Eunoia Review, Oddball Magazine, Of/with, A Hundred Gourds, The Bamboo Hut, and The Other Bunny. She is also the founding editor of the literary & arts journal, Sonic Boom.

Gatsby final page.,,,,with markings
The current
by Patrick T. Reardon

A ferryboat.
The moon.
Inessential houses.
The old island.
Vanished trees.
This continent.

This blue lawn.
That vast obscurity.
The dark fields.

Green light.

SOURCE: Erasure poem from the final page of The Great Gatsby. 


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Patrick T. Reardon’s five books include four of religious reflections. He has been writing newspaper articles, essays, poems, op-ed pieces and more over a writing career that began in 1962. His website is

Lines for The Couch Bleeding4
SOURCE: [an erasure poem from The Great Gatsby, Chapter 2,

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Found poems and replacement poems have been in my repertoire as I’ve used them as a teaching method to ease self-proclaimed non-poets into poetry. “Steal!” I encourage them. However, I’ve never tried my hand at an erasure poem. Until now. Inspired by the poems I see in flipping through the pages of The Great Gatsby Anthology, I scrolled through the Gutenberg version of Fitzgerald’s novel until a phrase jumped at me. From there, I selected the surrounding passage, and read straight through, mining for the underlying poem. It kind of wrote itself.

367Christina M Rau Headshot 1

Christina M. Rau
is the author of the poetry chapbooks WakeBreatheMove (Finishing Line Press, 2015) and For The Girls, I (Dancing Girl Press, 2014). Founder of Poets In Nassau, a reading circuit on Long Island, New York, her poetry has appeared on gallery walls in The Ekphrastic Poster Show, on car magnets for The Living Poetry Project, most recently in the journals Redheaded Stepchild and The Main Street Rag, and in the anthologies Till The Tide: An Anthology of Mermaid Poetry (Sundress Publications, 2015) and The Great Gatsby Anthology (Silver Birch Press, 2015). In her non-writing life, she practices yoga occasionally and line dances on other occasions. Find her links on

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I’ve always thought of the ending of The Great Gatsby as one of the perfect endings in literature, and rereading it in the age of climate change, I wondered how much of Fitzgerald’s “green breast of the new world” would be left above water if the oceans continue to rise. I imagined Nick Caraway as the rueful, elegiac recorder of the last days of humanity.


Kathryn Kulpa
has been writing since she was old enough to hold a pen — actually, a crayon. She has work featured or forthcoming in The Great Gatsby Anthology, Smokelong Quarterly, KYSO Flash, and Saranac Review. She is flash fiction editor for Cleaver magazine and she teaches fiction workshops for teens and adults in the smallest state in the union.

Photo: Kathryn Kulpa at age 13 in Massachusetts with her dog Toto.

stop failure
by Laurie Kolp

scrawl, draw stone, sprawl out
              a rose, melt
green trees pander, whisper
dreams of contemplation

I brood on blue obscurity,
the dark fields under night—
the light will stretch arms farther
              into the past

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I let the words lead me through darkness until a poem was born. I scrolled to the end of the book and selected words that I felt sounded good together. Then I worked on creating a poem from them, deleting some of the words from my original poem until I was satisfied with the finished product.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Laurie Kolp, author of Upon the Blue Couch (Winter Goose Publishing, 2014) and Hello It’s Your Mother (Finishing Line Press, October 2015), has poems appearing in Concho River Review, Iodine Poetry Journal, Red River Review, and more. She lives by a river, but much prefers the beach. You can find out more about her at

the great gone
by Diane Castiglioni

I lightly at later
stood side by side
peremptorily called “Wait!”
opening up again
in a flower-like way
even vaguely
on account of
being rumored
less remotely
confused and disgusted
less surprising
than depressed
by a book making him
nibble at the edge of
his peremptory heart.

out in pools of light
while on an abandoned
loud bright night
beating in the trees
full bellows of the earth
blew the frogs
across the moonlight
I was not alone
the shadow of silver
leisurely suggested
our local heavens.

a sudden intimation
stretched out
in a curious way
sworn trembling
Involuntarily seaward
–and distinguished
a single green light
that might have
looked vanished
in the unquiet darkness.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This is an erasure poem made from the last two pages of Chapter 1 of The Great Gatsby.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Diane Castiglioni is a contributing author to the French work Dictionnaire Universel du Pain (Bouquin Laffont, 2011), and an editor of the International Cooperation for the Development of Space (ATWG, 2012). She works as collaborative consultant, hosts poetry events, and has poems published by various small presses, as well as poems and stories published in two anthologies.

massey erasure

O apple, O flesh
by Karen Massey

O to be
patient, patient,
to question,
to listen.

They no longer held the lively conversations
of earlier times, getting into bed in some
small hotel room, to urge each other
to be deep, fancy underwear in the evening,
a better position later on. Sometimes
he would wake up and
grin, as if expecting to hear
the voice of gold,
and comfort

SOURCE:  The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka (pg 28/48,

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:  This is an erasure poem. Kafka and I were both born on July 3rd, so my interest in his writing began when I was a kid.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Karen Massey‘s poetry has appeared in numerous anthologies and print publications in Canada, the US and UK, and on the internet — most recently at The Found Poetry Review‘s PoMoSco Project, Inky Needles, Silver Birch Press, and in several volumes of She lives in Ottawa, Canada, a short walk from where a 100-year-old vertical lift bridge spans the historic Rideau canal. Her second chapbook is Strange Fits of Beauty & Light (above/ground press, 2014).

Kafka marked
I Grow Old, I Grow Old
by Marsha Schuh

“You can’t help getting older, but you don’t have to get old.”
                                                                                    –George Burns

One morning,
woke from dreams
transformed into a horrible
back and head
belly, slightly domed,
stiff sections ready to slide
any moment, legs
pitifully helpless.
What’s happened to me,
A lady fit, who sat upright?

Dull, quite sad,
unable in present,
floundering legs,
pain never felt before.
Oh, God, what a day!

Much more effort
doing your business,
worries about bad people
all the time, covered
with lots of little spots,
cold, always sitting,
my parents a long time gone,
hard of hearing, still

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I love erasure poems and Found Poetry in general, and as I read [Kafka’s] The Metamorphosis again, certain words stood out for me and suggested this poem. One of the changes that affects all of us sooner or later is growing old—the transformation from being a “schoolboy with satchel and shining morning face” to “slippered pantaloon” and eventually “second childishness.” And yet, perhaps we need to adopt Twain’s philosophy: “Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.”

me--monterey park

AUTHOR’S NOTE ON THE PHOTO: This photo was taken in Monterey Park, California, in 1947 when there were rolling hills there covered with California poppies and lupines instead of houses. Much has changed in the community (just as in me) in the intervening years.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Marsha Schuh grows older every day, but then again, don’t we all? She earned her MFA in Poetry at California State University, San Bernardino, where she taught English. She is now retired, and that allows her to spend more time with her family, and to enjoy reading, writing, traveling, and long-arm quilting. Other perks of aging include getting into theaters at reduced rates, receiving discounts at restaurants and stores, and, most of all, having grandchildren. Since we’re on our way down, might as well enjoy the ride (James Taylor). Her poetry has appeared in Inlandia Journal, Sand Canyon Review, Carnival, Found Poetry Review, and several other publications.

IMAGE: Found poem based on “I Am Waiting” by Lawrence Ferlinghetti.

Shloka Shankar

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Shloka Shankar is a freelance writer residing in India. Her work appears in over two dozen international anthologies including The Traversal of Lines, Eastern Voices, The Living Haiku Anthology, Butterfly Dream Anthology, and publications by Paragram, Minor Arcana Press, and Harbinger Asylum, among others. Her poems, erasures, haiku & tanka have appeared in numerous online and print journals. She is also the founder and editor of the literary and arts journal, Sonic Boom.

by Karen Massey

Bard on a quest,
Quaint uncouth dreamer,
Vices and strange fists
Of beauty and grief;
Sweet, everlasting glad
Ward of the earth,

SOURCE: “The Frogs” by Archibald Lampman,1887.

SOURCE BOOK: Lampman’s Sonnets 1884-1899 (Borealis Press, 1976), page 21.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Karen Massey lives in Ottawa, Canada. Her work has been published online and in journals and anthologies in Canada and the US including Decalogue: Ten Ottawa Poets (Chaudiere Books) and Bukowski Erasure Poetry Anthology and May Poetry Anthology (both from Silver Birch Press). Her second chapbook, Strange Fits of Beauty & Light (above/ground press) launches in December.