Two wonderful anonymous poets
San Francisco, California
"No way! My friend and I had a similar idea- awesome work, guys! I love the way you put it into action and that people come up with the same things simultaneously, being 6000 miles away from each other! Also I dig your handwriting. The words look really, really beautiful."
How did he react?
Grinned. Said: "Thank you!"
How did I feel?/What is the story?
I know I officially landed in Denmark the day before yesterday, but let me take you back to San Francisco. I have to. Because there are three more creative compliment candidates there who I want to document. Number one and two: The muddy waters word gamers. Sitting in one of my favorite coffee shops in the city night after night they write words on tape and put them on walls and the Valencia street pavement. Every letter is carefully painted. These two make handwriting look like calligraphy rather than a dying form of communication in digital times...
1) enjoy art
2) educate yourself in literature
3) work your core (by bending backwards)
4) do cardio (by walking around the bus stop)
...And this is how pombing turns into fit-pombing :D! Fimbing-..?
Ok enough. Here is proof of my found:
After all this project right here is partially about moving people in the midst of their every day life, touching them when they least expect it- on the street- by mirroring their own beauty and pointing it out to them through a compliment.
So if it is all about moving others and ourselves- which for me it is oftentimes- then let me ask you this: What if your favorite poem moved someone else, brought them to tears or made them laugh or think or...-? A complete stranger, or maybe your neighbor - who, in a city like Berlin probably ends up being the same person anyways, because honestly, who really knows their neighbors?
I am not saying: Do it. Go pomb. No way! I am just saying: I would love that.
Speaking of which here is another thing I am not saying:
I am so curious about ways to improve that idea! Best spots, originals (= the pomber's own words) or, ha!- a group poem! One could leave a pen next to the tape spiral. And start with something. One word, to words, a phrase. Then leave it up to the next person to continue. What should we call that? Wait... Communal poetry bombing. Right- That must be... combing.
Here is my favorite poem for you:
Die frühen Jahre (Mascha Kaleko)
In einer Barke von Nacht
Und trieb an ein Ufer
An Wolken lehnte ich gegen den Regen
An Sandhügel gegen den wütenden Wind
Auf nichts war Verlass
Nur auf Wunder
Ich aß von den grünenden Früchten der Sehnsucht
Und trank von dem Wasser, das dürsten macht
Ein Fremdling, stumm, vor unerschlossenen Zonen
Fror ich mich durch die finsteren Jahre
Zur Heimat erkor ich mir die Liebe.
I will translate that one soon!