THE TYPEWRITER PROJECT

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

Roses are red, violets are blue. sing, sing, a song won't you! The last time i type on a typewriter was 1988. I was a freshman at collegeSuny, Oswego!!!!

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

once upon a time there was a girl she was visiting ny she was was in the 4th grade she just finshed 4th grade. she went to a park and she played in a playground in the park..she was learning to type in a typewriter she had funby julia pole6-21-15

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

Sometimes it seems easy to love. I'm not one of those people who finds others boring. iIn most everyone I meet, I can find something of value.....if i gibe (give not gibe, berry gibe) ... where was I? ... if I give it time and enough space. ... Not most everyone, EVERYONE. Be open...open to it, because guess what? You can be boring, too :) "When I leave NEW YORKI'll be standing on my feet." -- Rob Dylan ... D,oh.

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

In response, companionship is a job; scheduling, rewards, punishments, promotion-ns- and all. But a noble job. Loving thine enemy, that's easy. Loving those that are hard work, hard to love, friends are the hardest to love. We don;t need them. We are all self-employed companions... Voluntary, pointless, necessary.

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

what even is companionship. i have a family and a best what even is companionship. why can we only find fullfillment in love. what is love and why does everyone want it. is it biological or are we socially conditioned to believe we need it. why do we go crazy and strive for a connection, when we are younger we believe everyone loves us...and we love ourselves too. what changes. when does love become a question, when does it become a job not a goal

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

And once, when I was very young, I had a pet that w a w very small. When I took the pet to the park, someone asked me wh t kind of animal it w s. I told the lady that it was a hideopus. Pygmy Puff was Ginny8'Ginny's pet in Harry Potter. Luna is my friend's f fav. character. Ih hope my dad is having a good time on this special day for him. I asked him why there is nom no children's day and he said it is every day. Happy father8s day daddy!

I am here with my friend: friends Sinclaire and my siste r Michelle and Sinclaire's dad. I am having a good time writing on this cool machine and it is fun!

I am ten (10) years old and crazy so please visit www.waterwithhands.blogspot.com

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

This is an experiment to see if I can type with my eyes closed. I love that this group of kids is doing such a neat project. Tompkins square feels gr great today. Turns out I can type with my eyes closed but I keep forget to listen for the return carriage bell. DING

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

HAPPY, FATHER'S DAY!!Turley Wurley was on his boatHe saw a lovely princess from Baldoyle

What is her name? he asked himself,

The princess sold him rashers and sausages from her shop

One taste and he knew he had to be in love

Turley Wurley asked what her name was and she said,

Mary

They lived happily ever after

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

SO, NOW IM AT THE typewriter. forgive the misspellings, im kinda new at this. i,m isollated yet in the center of it all. a novel experience. i like the creeatuuuuivity of the previous patrons who formated theuir prose especially. im not quite there yet. but the booth, the space, and the capsule to capture ones thoughts is pretty legit...-bss aka hook

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

i have looked back so many times i am a pillar of salt,

desperately trying

to melt the ice of your cold shoulder.

- m.g.m.

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

sitting in a park there is a typewriter and people many people

sitting around waiting to write

about what

about the city the moving city

and thinking about

were this city a pot full of water

the voices of the people

would be the tiny bubbles coming to boil

and spaghetti would be finished thoughts

thinking lets eat!

lets eat these streets filled with long lovely spaghetti

until the pages feel full enough to spill over

and over as these pages of the typewriter billow

in wallowing wind

through the park

through the trees in the park

can be seen all the little colors

of baseball caps and shirtless folk on fire escapes

feeling the summer

growing in fervor

and with beer bellies hanging over the railings

retrieve themselves from fatigue

and reenter dark apartments

to prepare for evening

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

okay im back in college paying someone to do my papers cause i cant typeok im 64 n been in the village twenty years lotta change not good i mean

you know the soul soul soul is gone

cause you all got too much money spending vomit on street booze

its not that we dont drink man but respect the older residents

bob dylan was once young but he created i dont think he shit on

people... maybe ....right

its hard on us to see your glass condos ruining the soul of our streets

ok im sure you all are good people just know it hurts our hearts

the east village was once not about money

we, the older artists, we mourn

losing

its

soul

PROGRESS ...PROGRESS......SAD....PROGRESS ...art.....heart

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

This In New york City are many gardens

in newyork city the are allot of things to do like go on trains

and buses and go too places

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

It was just a mug..... but so much more.It came with the finality that only parting gifts can.

I wanted you to come to California with me. And I wanted you to want it too.

At first it hurt to look at. A painful reminder of that magical summer month before i left college, and everything was about to vhange.

i thought of you every time i poured an herbal tea, through the years as I slowly gave in to caffeine, and gave up on the idea of us.

Through several girlfriends since, through my time in Germany, elsewhere,

and now in NYC, the mug remains. I;m now abit older, a with a little less hair, a little more experience, and a new love in my life.

The mug is the same, and yet it is different.

it reminds me of a boy i used to know.

it has been a decade of tea, sometimes novelty,

sometines su btlety, always honest.

now when i looked at the mug, i smile.

I know how lucky i am to have somebody elses mug. and someday soon,

it will belong to another me as well.

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

asdfjkl; the home keys are asdf /jkl;;; this year was my first year of high school. i am now a sophmore i guess.

ive gone to the same sschool since kindergarten, so i have nbeen

there for ten years. it was weird having new people in the same old build

ing. so nothing changed in a way, but in another a lot did. i dislike sch

ool. i do not understand why i have to spend seven hours in a place where

i do not evem ihave a say in what i learn. what about all the kids who want to be singers or morticians or producers??? is the knowledge ofth how

to succeed in these professions just t suppossed to come to our minds like

magic?? i guess so. when i grow up i want to live in south korea, or china.i hoprepe it happens. ok i guess that is it. happy papa:s daay!!!!!!!!

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

awakening in a cesspool of ameneotic fluid christened in aroma of sunflowers, Christine felt a euphoric joy unknown to the world around herher. As she waltzed in stupor a fox approachedfrom the distance. Salivating

at the thought of a a fresh kill he crouched in the bushels of wheat.

A s if blind to the world a round her, Christine journied to the nearby

hill to scopet this neew horizon gifted to her, perhaps cursed. The

fresh smell of sunflowrs rotteed into crimson and iron. Seething pain

she lay in waste with fangs puncturing her arteries. Blind, cold, still.

Opening her eyes it was all an amorphous dream,. Curating a cup of coffee,

and nursing her hangover, Christine wondered what the vision foretold. Feeling a cool breeze on her porch she slowly c losed her eyes into a light nap.

A rustle in the grass was heard.

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

the EV is the perfect spot for this project. can2t wait to read more about the fyll story.

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

old-school... guess that kind of describes me now. wow how time flies.i took "typewriting" in high school. hilarious. and how i have a baby, living in

NYC, with the love of my life. living the dream.

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

...and old-school is the feeling of the day, as i hang out with my daughteron this sunny fathers day. My mother used to have a typewriter just like this

...and using this makes me think of lazy sundays, my father sleeping after

a long week of shift work, my ,mother cooking something warm and fragrant

on the stove, my brother and i playing in the sweltering florida heat.

eventually my mother would feed us, and retire to her table, where she would

type xxx her weekly letter to my aunt in Ecuador. Who knows what they wrote

about...what they shared. The only known thing is their intimacy,

their closeness, despite the miles.

The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15 The Poetry Society of New York 6/21/15

BACK INback in tomplin

a few false starts. finally getting the hang of this technology- or am i?

first time using one of these on a beautiful summer afternoon, in the best place for people watching in the city in my opionion. the east village, ity is still great neighborhood with many wonderful people. and i,... i am thrilled that there are people putting together such fun and interactive art projects like this. there are a few kids playing soccer using 9(SORRY using two gates ... just got aacall from my dad...dad, on this

father,s day... i love this neighborhood with all my heart. thanks for reading

... even with all the old-fashioned typos.