I’ve dropped the Oddness 2022 collection items for January. The Oddness 2022 collection consists of haikus I wrote and plan to write during the year 2022 on magnified sections of CC0-based surreal art. Each haiku written in January was initially priced at Ξ.005 ; those in February will be at Ξ.01 ; those in March will be at Ξ.02, and so on, doubling in price every month. If you were to bet on my success at making these haikus popular, then it would make sense for you to buy all of the items still unsold from the cheapest month, thereby doubling the floor price, and then offering them for sale at slightly below the floor price. Each haiku was inspired by 3 twitter poetry prompts for the day on which they were written, which can be seen in the NFT’s properties within OpenSea, and which I used on the day to spread awareness of the haikus. Other properties include the syllable breakdown of each line by word – so for example the line “Descending the stair” would have a syllable property of “3-1-1”, meaning there are 3 words in the line, the first of which has three syllables, the second of which has one syllable, and the third of which has one syllable. The CC0 artist used for the background of that haiku is also listed as a property – all of these properties taken in combination can be used to provide some rarity measurements among the haikus, even with those at the same price level. Haikus from January to August will be hosted on the Polygon side chain; those from September to December will be hosted directly on Ethereum, because September is the month at which the monthly-doubling floor price exceeds an entire ether (i.e. it reaches Ξ1.28), at which point the fees for transacting on Ethereum should no longer seem outrageous in comparison to the price of the NFT, even if the ethereum transition to Proof-of-Stake planned currently in June were to never occur or get delayed.
In addition, each Monthly addition to the entire Oddness 2022 collection will be housed in its own 3-dimensional Virtual Reality gallery to further awareness of the collection. The January gallery should be connected to the first link above.
I minted my first NFT poetry collection, Lyrics Liberated, not long ago on the Polygon network using my own code to deploy a custom smart contract. It has since debuted on OpenSea. The collection’s beautiful artwork was done by Maestro, a good friend of mine, using an AI algorithm that mixed the styles of two separate images. The final image turns out to be lusher than either of the originals.
I am so excited to present my new collection to you: Hiraeth Poems.
This post is long, but for a TL;DR: I’m launching a new collection on OBJKT.com, which will become the home for most of my future poetry drops. I am opening it with the numbered stanzas of my poem entitled “Hiraeth.” I have integrated these poems with some of my LuxAI.art pieces (which is an amazing project, btw, and I cannot wait to see where they go with it).
Right now, all NFT marketplaces converge on twitter.com. It frustrates me that the future of art sales is currently just a dogpile of advertisements on so called “shill threads.” This can be overwhelming for those entering the space for the first time.
I won’t give you another list of accounts to follow and I won’t give you guidelines on how to showcase your NFTs! There are plenty of articles about this out there already, and I am no expert. My advice is: don’t anger yourself or the algorithm!
There is no way to translate Twitter time into NFT sales. It is easy to burn out on such social media sites. NFT Twitter has been described as a nonstop, international party. The vibes are immaculate, and the art is amazing! Just don’t count on chronic virtue signaling to carry your mental health.
After some experimenting with the Tezos blockchain, I have listed my first poems for 1 XTZ each (currently $6.38 USD) on objkt! This is exciting for me because I want my art to be available to everyone. Gas is currently affordable on the Tezos blockchain, which is not the case for Ethereum.
These poems come from Twitter, actually! They were inspired by prompts and passing thoughts. I figured this is a solid way to get Twitter time counted as work =]
This mentions a friend I lost this past year. November being men’s mental health month, I guess it is an appropriate time for such sentiment. I do wish it would be easier to talk about these things, though. I haven’t been able to write about his passing until now. At his funeral, his depression was disregarded. I wrote this with heavy tears.
Let us weep on a friend’s shoulder, soldier.
This one was a prompt, “The Hole.” I was calling from my experiences in both Ocmulgee, GA and Clear Water, MN. I have a full-length poem written about the former! It is currently being edited with its collection. I am hoping to write more about my time at the StopLine3 camps, but my creative process cannot be rushed… Thank you for reading!
I dropped “My Sister” on Hic et Nunc a couple of days ago, but I wanted to write more about it here. I have had some feedback on this poem, commenting on the relationships between sisters. And if that’s in this poem for you, if that’s what you get out of it, that’s perfectly valid. I am of the opinion that once a poem is out there, it has a new life…it belongs to the poet and the readers at the same time.
But there’s another personal meaning here that I’m not sure people are accessing. I had a poet friend who also did not initially understand the poem, and was working with me to workshop it, but I hesitated to change anything because it WAS so intensely personal. For that same reason, I rarely write such personal poems…I want enough distance from my poems to be able to see them objectively, to be able to kill my darlings. But either way, I wrote this poem, and I didn’t change it.
What am I talking about? Well, I have a sister, but this poem is not about her.
The speaker of this poem is in the future. The speaker of this poem is a version of my daughter, speaking about her “sister,” who I miscarried. The hawkmoth I think of as the fluttering initial heartbeats, the wormglow is the initial glow of a new pregnancy, the “chestnut,/ tight in our mother’s womb” is as large as her sister grew in this world. The rest of the poem is describing her sister’s spirit being still alive, and how she knows that she ran to the afterlife.
The poem is below, and the NFT has audio of me reading it as well.
is sense the same as nonsense ? or is one more beautiful than the other ?
if you write a poem in your native language, and then have a machine translate it into a different language, is the poem still ‘poetic?’ even with garbled translations, i suspect that the poem can still be beautiful, and most wonderfully so, in unexpected ways.
I’m a Voice-over artist, puppeteer, poet and performer in Virtual Reality, based in South Africa.
What drives me as an artist: I love texture, the power of words, storytelling in all its forms and working with physical materials.
I have always had the ability to spot what I call “little earthquakes” (a term coined by singer Tori Amos), these tiny moments in life that seem to pass by unnoticed by many, yet have a profound impact on the person experiencing it. I try to capture these moments in my poetry.
I like movement, the moving image, and how emotion can be conveyed through movement.
Fresh dew on the yew. Sun poking up, the hours into the day are few. Boil up some water for the caffeine brew. Just a fiend for my friends, and a familiar view.
Load up the van, truck, or gator. Gonna get wet, got no waiters. Wearing a helmet, losing the glasses later. Light is here like someone adjusted a fader.
Launch the canoes on the creek. Been at this a few weeks. Stepping on that swamp mud sure does reek. Smooth sailing when the tight ship don’t leak. If you’re under pressure, you’re gonna pass your peak. In the back tilling until you tear a web, then you tweak.
Reach an impasse. Nowhere to go except into imperial tear gas. Sticks and stones spoken to Sunday mass. It’s all fun and games, but the jokes are crass. When the work is done, you can float through the forest on your ass. Until then, paddle up creek, march through the grass.
A tree fell into the mud. Strangled by vines, it didn’t even thud. Might still be alive; leaves still green, branches still bud. Kissing the water’s surface, the log collects lots of crud. Cleaning up the scene, no soap and no sud. Swing an axe down on the bark, hopefully this cut won’t be a dud.
Grip both hands around the axe handle. One at a time, like legs into a pant-hole. Bring it up to the sky, make it meet God’s mantle. Swing it back down like a blacksmith’s hammer to anvil. The blade drips from the clouds like wax down a candle.
By Chuck Thompson – Inspired by his time in the Congaree wilderness.
The first poem I ever posted publicly on the internet was on Instagram. That was when the Instagram poets were getting all the glory. I was inspired to write it while I walked home one night. I live on a boat in San Francisco Bay, and I was strolling down to the docks when I noticed a night heron standing on the rocks opposite of the docks. The stillness of the heron of the night overcame me, and I was compelled to stop and marvel at the creature. In that moment of silence I felt strands of connection with the bird, stirring up thoughts and emotions I attempted to capture in verse.
The night heron stands at the water,
She presents time bygone, the eons past,
Borne on the gentle rays of the full moon,
Glittering splendidly in silver beauty,
She is the serenity of stars playing hide and seek,
She is stillness, the very fabric of darkness itself.
O night heron, reveal to me –
The source of your mystery,
I desire your secrets as my own,
The thought, I’d no longer be alone.
Yet she is not one to be tamed,
No, she could not bear to be claimed.
What lies in a cage but woe,
Stolen beauty, a mere shadow.
The night heron stays not till dawn.
I look back for her; she is gone.
Hi, friends. I’m so happy to be invited here, and I am so happy to share pieces of my poetry with you all. I don’t have any ongoing collections yet. I am new to the NFT world, and I am still exploring what that might look like for me as I continue to share my writing. I welcome feedback about what works for you and what doesn’t. I’m strictly on Hic et Nunc for now. Most of what I post will be text or text along with spoken word. For now, I’d like to share this piece I just posted: “Late Bloomer.” There are many things in life that I dreamed or hoped for but I didn’t immediately achieve. This poem is about being slow and steady in life, and how that’s okay. There are five editions available, and they are 1 tez each. I will post the text below.
For the tardiness of nasturtium and her fiery fairies rushing, bustling behind our glances,
for the late redwine lilacs who miss our festivals and with purpose and flair bloom precisely when they ought,
we two stroll by at last, hearts afire, and happen upon the kindred blossoms
of hardy shoots who took their time prepared and watched, weathered icy frosts,
who whispered to us called out for us waiting underground.
I bunkered down. I married late, have yet no child but
worked back to bone while tendrils, slowly, greedily gripped the stalk to be sure, be sure there will be a bloom at all.
A limited edition set of astrologically inspired poetry from astroviak, illustrated and animated by NY based digital artist ArtErmira.
I first met ArtErmira on Instagram in September 2020. I was just starting out with poetry, and she was just starting out with artistic renders. Her ethereal, dreamy, and bright style immediately drew me in like a magnet. She was able to express everything I felt so purely. I was obsessed.