The Lay of Folsom Powerhouse – A Poetic Video Press Release

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If you’ve been with us for a while, you may recall our penchant for ridiculous and poorly produced marketing videos. We’ve missed that lately and wanted to bring it back with a bang.

So while @ Media was creating a professional press release to announce the Folsom Powerhouse project that would be respected by the press and public, we took Nic and Elliot out for a beer and brainstorming session just like old times. A few hours later, we had what we believe is a first for press releases in the history of this typically boring genre of information dissemination:

The First Ever Poetic Press Release in Spenserian Stanza
The Lay of Folsom Powerhouse

The Lay of Powerhouse from Postgreen Homes on Vimeo.

Nic was not happy with one first in a press release in the form of a poem. He wanted to make sure the record hand staying power and added Spenserian Stanza to the mix. This meant that Elliot and I mostly fed him beer and watched the poem come together over a couple of hours. The text is below for those of you who the video is not enough. Enjoy.

The Lay of Folsom Powerhouse

Deep in the Heart of Francisville
Where blight had long held its sway
In a swath of rotting old infill
West of Fairmount, Springarden way.
14,000 square feet of land there lay
and waited for the vision lost
to raise it up above the gray
and bring it back despite the cost
to the land it was ere fate was crossed

and so at once went up the cry
to friend whom common toil had taught
to reach beyond confines of sky
and into the future so long sought
to wiess who equinox had wrought
and phillips of house ISA
to post green who long had sought
to find a path, a better way
so went the call one fateful day

and Jonathan Weiss said to the team
“this is our time to lead the way”
and Brian Phillips sparked the dream
in the tumultuous mind of ISA
and Postgreen rose to meet the day
with ideas formed from lessons learned
and Ludeman the Chad was heard to play
the notes of a new approach returned
in Fancisville where time had burned

where once was naught a beast would rise
of units mixed in mayhems bowl
a perfect place to live divised
with parts unlike in a perfect whole
the City’s plan had marked the goal
to build a place where building meets
the intersection of mind and soul
a connection born of home and streets
of hand and glove of hearts and beats

from Planning came a melodious voice
in harmony Department Water sang
Sustainability was the Mayor’ choice
across the land their edicts rang
and there upon that hook did hang
the blueprint of a plan designed
like poison on the serpents fang
like skins of grapes beneath the wine
so did the path our heroes find

parking sparse they did conjure
to increase the chance of friends new met
and on the streets they did ensure
that those with feet would surely get
safe passage where those feet were set
through a bulge of sidewalk aptly laid
and added there a bench to let
the weary to find some ready aid
and count the cards amongst them played

Superstoop will lay across the face
of houses metal wood and brick
with greenery closely interlaced
and walls constructed double thick
and many options those will pick
who find their home within these walls
finishes that won’t make them sick
and windows to fend off the pall
of summer’s rise and winter’s fall

Runoff they will handle thus
with pits for trees that drain away
the rain that dampens all of us
and floods the sewers to our dismay
a permeable site they shall display
that leads the water to the ground
to soak down deep and so away
where all is lost and much is found
beneath the fury beneath the sound

Powerhouse will they name this feat
that rises from this empty land
solar panels raised into the heat
that gives us all a helping hand
when we are faced with peak demand
and costs are rising with the seas
just as the city wise had planned
twenty percent of power teased
from the sun and free of fees

and now is sought the community
that will make Folsom Street their very own
that will carve a place where they can be
the plant that grew where seed was sown
and though therein lies some unknown
the bold will reap a harvest rich
from verdant, wild idea grown
a thread that makes the perfect stitch
a note that rings the perfect pitch

- a poem by Nic Darling

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