Carbon Noise Poetry > Meet the Poets > See the Noise
Write Hard Write Often
If ever there was a time for the sick poets, it is now.
Too many people inhabit Earth. We need to reduce the population. To tears? To zero? To a 1970’s level? Should we offshore the homeless to the moon Europa? Or a giant space station in orbit? Or perhaps relocate the wealthy to Mars…?
The answer to all of these questions is no. Or, well, maybe. The rich to Mars, anyway. No, it’s no. The answer is no. We need a comprehensive disease, one to affect all people. One to unite them in the close quarters of overpopulation. We need to inflict everyone with the sickness of poetry. Poetry will render every person with the domain of infinite space and time.
Each man, woman, and child a king of infinite space, you ask? Yes, in close quarters. In the beautiful openness of the poetic word and phrase. Yes, in Hamlet’s metaphoric nutshell, humans may survive the future.
— K. Shawn Edgar circa 2011
Peach Farm Studio gave all of us at Carbon Noise the Versatile Blogger award! Thanks, Peach Farm. This is an update. Sorry for the time lapse; I had meant to put this up long ago. Smiles!
Our Contributing Poets
K. Shawn Edgar is
Founder and Head Lifeguard at Carbon Noise Poetry, skateboarder for life, and unashamed poet. Has skin, dreams, shreds, stares, lounges, breathes air, and dissolves in water.
Waldow Lying Lion is
The Lying Lion lives in a trailer in a meadow at the edge of woody ravine in Northwest Oregon with three ewes, four girl cats, 22 hens, a sow and three geldings. He writes doggerel while growing vegetables, hauling scrap metal, boxing, grappling, and wastes time following news about technology, energy, and wealth distribution.
a daughter struggling for attention and yet hoping to be ignored
a girl hiding her face in her hands in a childlike hope that if I can’t see them, they can’t see me
an insomniac praying to be swallowed into the waters of sleep
an ostrich that buried its head in the sand when its wings didn’t work
a song sung in the dark silence of night
raw and breaking from disuse
a single imperfect note
striving to join heavenly choirs
A prayer trying to be beautiful
Anna M. is
I’m a painter, writer, photographer, composer, digital artist, and vocalist. My paintings have been exhibited in 26 group shows and 10 solo shows. In June 2011 I founded Chromatopia, LLC, an independent publisher, contemporary art gallery, and record label. As the former Executive Director of The Other Side Arts, a nonprofit community arts center based in Denver and Aurora, I helped bring the arts and art therapy to 65,000 people. I’m passionate about community service and have clocked more than 8,000 volunteer hours and raised over $350,000. My husband, Adrian, and I live in the mountains of Colorado. I have a degree in Biology from Colorado College.
Born in Boston, MA and raised in Savannah, GA, Cheri Anne’s speech is
divided as well as every other aspect of her outlook. As a trolley
tour guide by day and student/writer by night, her super powers tend
to be most drained. She’s never really understood “courtesy” or
“hospitality” anyway. She lives a double life shrouded by science and
mapped pamphlets where she can only think in verse.
The Hunt for Shelley October is
maybe a writer, artist, hugger, dog lover, sometime speech pathologist, sometime caretaker, early-week crossword solver living in the forest of Oregon. But she’s been silent so long, we fear the worst and have lost hope that she’ll ever write again.
The Poet’s Visual Noise
Photos, Art, and Impressions