a few new poems recorded

http://soundcloud.com/marcus-slease/audio-recording-on-tuesday

"Godzenie" play in Stimulus/respond

my poem play "Godzenie" in the latest issue of Stimulus/Respond . . .

a fashion/architecture/art mag with some literature . . .

visually centred mag  . .

check it out here:

http://www.stimulusrespond.com

lucifer poetics/ desert city reading series

The lucifer Poetics Group and the Desert City Reading Series (run by Ken Rumble) and the Blue Door (Todd and Laura Sandvik) and Carborro International Poetry Festival (organized by Patrick Heron) and lots of spontaneous events . . .  this is where I was given wings . . . . so much generosity . .  this is what it is about . . . community . . .

sooooooooooo much was happening . . . .


2004 season

http://715space.bandcamp.com/album/desert-city-2004-05-season

2005 season

http://715space.bandcamp.com/album/desert-city-2004-05-season

The Band ( I missed this):

http://715space.bandcamp.com/track/reading-in-the-mirror

my reading from 2005 . . . lucifer poetics . . . north carolina

I was surprised by this . . . forgot about this work . . . and my voice/accent has changed from all the foreign traveling and isolation . . . i kinda miss this guy in the video . . . coming back around to that playfulness now again . . .  phew :-)

narratives (still very much in progress)

Irish Ninja

Somewhere around the age of 20 I had been looking to get my accent back that would

have been 1995 when I first came back to Milton Keynes & Portadown

BOYO after moving to Vegas 

where the middle school 

was full of Mexicans hombre

and a girl named Candy squinted 

when she smoked a cigarette through her gaped tooth and BOYO 

did she love Duran

Duran and French kissing

I hadn’t learned the French and loved

Jesus but did play

spin the bottle with no

tongue for Jesus I

hadn’t learned the cursive 

so the curly haired Mexican teacher 

who was a finalist for space 

but Christa McAuliffe beat him to it & 

was blown up in the process showed us 

an experiment with a glass tube and a cigarette and the tube filled up with smoke 

and the glass bottom got yellow and he said 

this is what happens to your glass belly 

BOYO my accent was still thick 

and the girls wanted to play four

square but I hadn’t learned the cursive 

so I was after school with a shy Mexican girl and I was her 

Irish ninja & made up some move I called

the slot machine jackpot arm twister and I told her I was 

on the run and if any Irish 

ninjas showed up to keep 

the beans in her belly

after school I stayed up late looking 

into the mirror & tired of not 

being understood I elongated 

my a’s & listened to Grandmaster Flash & tried to breakdance 

on a piece of cardboard and a Vegas 

Mormon accent began to kick in 

then which was really 1950’s America 

but I didn’t know that then & on Sundays we took on Elizabethan English with thee 

& thou & brother & sister & handshakes & half moons under shirts & I got all mixed 

up in 1995 after visiting Portadown 

& Milton Keynes & leaving a Mormon mission which was in Boise 

Idaho & for the first time since 

I left I wanted to turn back 

the clock get back what I lost 

that whale in the belly UGH

and now I am back in London

hello again & this is 2011 & 

I have an American accent 

and my past is still my past 

and my present is three steps

behind my past oh God-

Zenie and I have a British passport 

YUCK and an American accent 

hm whatever that means 

& that’s OK too I guess I am ok 

with that & I guess whatever 

it means is sort of up for grabs and I am really up for grabs 

with Portadown somewhere down there in the cities of the belly

my green card for America has expired 

my Northern Irish accent has expired 

my Mormon accent has expired and I will expire too

third revision

THE PRINCE OF MIST BY THE BEST SELLING AUTHOR OF THE SHADOW OF THE WIND

this version left blank due to rules regarding blog posted poems and submissions to mags . . hm . . . not sure about that . .  ah well . . .

saturday morning revision

THE PRINCE OF MIST BY THE BEST SELLING AUTHOR OF THE SHADOW OF THE WIND

I’m petite Asian and can handle any cock

they fix everything here

take your sandals to the shop

i have cabbed upon this 

mind barking like a cork

this is eski yeni

in other words Samsara

hello kebab

hello clam

hello sweeeeet buttery balik ekmek

I weep too much

or not at all

highway of plastic gunk

hello beer and no sex 

hello dear hello

WAKE UP

we live in a desert

in spring it is mud

in summer it is brittle

in winter it snows

Oh Ankara

father is getting old

Turks sell turquoise 

when god stiffens yr spine

serve a nut to yr squirrel

Oh Joseph Smith

do you want my hand

or my bed

yr front is hiding yr rear

Friday night makings and readings

Ewa is putting nail polish on chapbook cover of chapbook Balloons. The ink with title and name did not dry on Napalese paper. 


Some copies of cover painting have now been printed on tracing paper. 


Grzegorz Wroblewski's These Extraordinary People:


http://s3.amazonaws.com/data.tumblr.com/tumblr_ljm5dqlW6n1qc8hseo1_1280.jpg?AWSAccessKeyId=AKIAJ6IHWSU3BX3X7X3Q&Expires=1306620007&Signature=WWRskYoycHtVOxghlSSKFB12IrU%3D




Getting dizzy with fumes. We need to make a mock up for the chap. Print. Glue. We have a bone to make the pages flatten. A brush for gluing. A bowl.


Should be ready to go for my reading at Rich Mix in London on 18th June.


Earlier read some mighty good Hungarian gypsy poetry over at Milk Magazine


Attila Balogh:
http://milkmag.org/balogh.html 

THE PRINCE OF MIST BY THE BEST SELLING AUTHOR OF THE SHADOW OF THE WIND

(friday afternoon. Tasmac. Northwest London. 10 min break time . . . recollecting in tranquility the delights of living in Ankara and feeling that thing commonly called nostalgia but for something that isn't quite grasped or expressed  . .  what is IT?)


many times

i have cabbed upon this

in eski YENI

this is my brain

on Turkish skirts

hello kebab

hello clam

hello sweeeeet buttery balik ekmek

hello beer and no sex

hello dear hello

we live in a desert

in spring it is mud

in summer it is brittle

in winter it snows

Oh Ankara!

do you want my hand

or my bed?









                                                                                                 

bored no longer

Jeff Hilson's In the Assarts (My fav Hilson yet!!!)

Tim Atkins Petrarch (from Barque Press) (my fav Atkins yet!!)

Hilson and Atkins Atkins and Hilson a cold drink of water in the desert of British poetry!!!

Kenneth Koch's poem "On Beauty"

Elffish Jon (the unassarts) . . . . from Linus Slug . . .

Now I remember why poetry matters!!!

Language lives!!!


More to come . . .

where is boredom?

It is raining in London. I am in Kingsbury. At a business school teaching EFL. The job will end next Thursday.

I am searching for jobs again. To survive (shelter and food etc. )

This is a continual process.

In the meantime, I have become bored (temporarily) of poetry.

Perhaps boredom can be a good thing, however.

Getting tired of the same type of poetry being written, or poetry in general.

I guess if it is not interesting to me it is not worth writing (reading). There are better things to do than write/read poetry. Such as interacting with friends (not virtually). Eating some curry with friends. Having a BBQ with friends.

I guess I want those worlds of writing and the everyday to come closer to together. I write to awake! To pay attention.

I guess that is why the NY school has been the most influential for me (and some of the beats). It allows the poetry to enter my life rather than be removed for further study.  It is not a specialized activity.

I am trying hard to be a generalist. To be humane. Interactions are the most important thing to me, not ideas. At least not all the world's abstract ideas/philosophies. Whatever the utopian dream. I guess in that sense I prefer the empiricism of Buddhism. The down to earth pacticality. I am most interested in easing my suffering and the suffering of others. How much of that suffering is based on our choices which originate in the mind/state?

OR

How did I get here?

I am not fond of this rain today.

Being Generous

Tim Atkins has written a fantastic review about a book that influenced me a lot when I lived in Poland and continues to inform me sense of what is possible. It is absolutely one of my favourite books of poetry from the last 15 years.

It is interesting because I love Rhode Island Notebook a lot. And I love the review. I hardly ever love reviews because they feel stiff, insincere, formulaic and who the hell reads them anyway. I trust more the recommendations of my friends (same for music and films). And this review makes me curious about another book and helps me r-engage with Rhode Island Notebook.

A review should be as interesting as the poetry/art/music we love right? Not an exercise in abstract theory or simply to spurn out another review for the CV to climb the ranks and get that pie in the sky academic position at such and such university.

And theory. Well . . . with the folks doing phds and getting more estranged from what's out there . . and more and more limiting in their references and perhaps delusional in the political power of their use of words . . . perhaps think stamp collecting as a political act . . which of course it could be . . . if the people love it . . . and it enhances their lives . . . if it helps them to be more awake more compassionate loving etc. . . . . well more and more and more poets seem to be going to university and never leaving it . . . from student to professor without stepping out into a larger lived world . . . and more often than not I think this has to limit the range . . .

but of course it is also a very very exciting time to be a poet . . . to write . . . is there ever time when it was wasn't/isn't . . .

And I do think poetry for me . . . well I read it because it enhances my life . . . and I want to connect with the worlds that are contained there . .  and I do think a lived life . .. or an awakening life . . . informs the writing . .

well . . this review of Rhode Island Notebook has a light touch. and it makes me curious. It is generous. And humane. And honest. And that is the kind of poetry that lights me up. And I want more of these kind of reviews. And I wish we could step out of the careerism of poetry (which is really tied to the university) and just try to be as open as we can with each other as a community . . as communities . .  I mean that is one of the great potential powers of poetry . .. the communities . . .

Yes!

Reviews need to be as good as poetry and perhaps even the movies:


Rhode Island Notebook

my interview and poems over at 3:AM magazine

interview at 3:AM magazine

poems from smashing time at 3:AM magazine

big thanks to Steven Fowler . . .

WHAT'S HOT!

I just ate a pig's ear. I am trying to forget about it. It was chewy and from Bulgaria. A Bulgarian gave it to me. I can still taste it. I will forget soon.

Southbank for the day. Books borrowed from the poetry library:

1) The Nancy Book by Joe Brainard (cartoons, narratives, ahhhhhhh boyo it doesn't get much better than Joe Brainard)

2) Apprehend by Elizabeth Robinson (read half on the tube. So so. If I read it fast there are some interesting lines I can steal)

3) Just Space (poems 1979-1989) by Joanne Kyger (looking forward to diggin in) (Philip Whalen, Joanne Kyger, Bernadette Mayer, Joe Ceravolo, Ted Berrigan, Kenneth Koch . . . the centre of the universe . . .)

4) Ny Poesi (collaborations between British and European poets). Knives Forks and Spoons Press.

My fav collaborations with My Poesi are between Jeff Hilson (one of the most interesting British poets full stop) and Auden Mortensen (an interesting Swedish poet). Also some mighty fine political poetry from Sean Bonney (one of the best performers of poetry full stop) and Paal Bjelke Andersen.

Actually I have ordered three books from Knives Forks and Spoons Press. There is some seriously hot hot action happening over there.

The Knives Forks and Spoons Press is one of the new centres for hot innovative poetry from the UK.

There is an amazing range of work. And some great flexibility. British poetry can be mighty stiff whether labeled mainstream or innovative (eg Cambridge/the school of Keston Sutherland etc.)

Arthur Shilling, Oystercatcher, and Crater Press are also stellar presses for chapbooks/pamphlets!!!

The Knives Forks and Spoons Press is not too expensive either. The editor, Alec Newman, makes it all by hand. I am wondering if Alec Newman is human.

if you are curious about the interesting shit going down in the UK . . . this is the press worth checking out . . . you might not like it all . . . of course . . . but there is some explosive energy happening . . . long may it continue . . .

and don't be fooled by the purposefully "amateur" looking websites . . .

There is a boatload of very very boring stale poetry.

These are the presses for interesting fresh poetry from the UK (in no particular order):


Arthur Shilling Press


Knives Forks and Spoons Press

Crater Press

(Tim Atkins esp. rocks it here)

Reality Stret

(see esp. James Davies book Plants and Jeff Hilson's Stetchers and Peter Jaeger's Rapid Eye Movement and Jim Goar's Seoul Bus Poems)

Veer Books

(check out In the Assarts for the latest in yummy goodness)

Mike Topp

Mike Topp

some paintings by Grzegorz Wroblewski

some paintings of Grzegorz Wroblewski

they are even better live in person . . . .

so happy happy gluck lick Ewa and I have two of his paintings on our wall . . .

publishing genius

terrific indie publishing . . . restores my hope . . .

check it out:


publishing genius

Chris Toll's Disinformation Phase: The Pilgrim Dreaming

Publishing Genius has some interesting work . . . no reason poetry can't connect like Indie music scenes in the 80's and 90's or punk music in the 70's . . . etc. etc.

check out this trailer for a book of poetry forthcoming



TEXT

power money and fame

small time?

DEUTER - PUSTA ZIEMIA

The empty earth . . . .




TEXT

The Latest from the Netherlands (Hague)

from Wonderland manuscript (revised)

Trendy Club
(Elblag, Poland)

put a hole in your skull
says Roger
the lid
is open
but where are my eyes
my balcony opens
don't let them
keep you here
i am giving you
a ride home
I have not adapted
I envy my neighbours
their incredible skill

current readings for week 8th May-?

Philip Whalen's Collected Poems

Kenneth Koch's Collected Poems

Kenneth Koch's The Gold Standard

Lew Welch's Ring of Bone

Copenhagen+bikes+strand+Christiana+wild west+paintings+poetry ++++

what a city. What time. Grzegorz Wroblewski. Paintings. Books. Louise Rosengreen (another terrific Danish poet). A journey to a place called Christiana. A freetown. A town at the end of the world. The wild west reborn.

And the strand. Ahhh what a strand. I was in a painting. It was a nice painting.

And the bikes. And the colours. I must go again soon!!!

Pics from the life changing trip:

some pics from Copenhagen

poet Louise Rosengreen in action:

Louise Rosengreen

This was incredible . .. a bit of spaceman feeling . . . dreamy . . . a town within a town at the end of the world:

Freetown Christiania