Marcus Slease (JJ Mars) is a (mostly) surrealist and fabulist writer from Portadown, N. Ireland and Utah.
His latest book is Play Yr Kardz Right (Dostoyevsky Wannabe, 2017).
He lives in Madrid, Spain.
Visit his website for more info:
Mighty good poems over at Blood Lotus. It's Amy King. It's not hipster irony. I am right there too!!! Stacia M. Fleegal on Amy King: “Experts are servants / to those in power who return things to ‘normal.’ Riot on.” could be Amy King’s ars poetica. Other writers might question notions of normalcy, but King wholly rejects them, not with hipster irony, but with the deep disdain of a wound-wise observer who knows she wields the power to distill society’s shortcomings as she sees fit."
DAVID KELLY-MANCAUX made a saintly scroll on British museum gift shop receipt paper.
My poems from manuscript IT POPS!
David said the till was going crazy spewing out poems instead of numbers for receipts.
Conversational vernacular poems. Sometimes bop prosody of Kerouac Ginsberg. Sometimes Frank O' Hara Eileen Myles plainspoken. But it's not on the road. It's in the bathtub and on the train and hanging in my housing estate in east london docklands etc.
Chris Gutkind got a saintly scroll and hung it across his balcony.
I was very happy to see poems as waterfall. And as receipt scroll.
Belief and Technique for Modern Prose (Jack Kerouac) Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joySubmissive to everything, open, listeningTry never get drunk outside yr own houseBe in love with yr lifeSomething that you feel will find its own formBe crazy dumbsaint of the mindBlow as deep as you want to blowWrite what you want bottomless from bottom of the mindThe unspeakable visions of the individualNo time for poetry but exactly what isVisionary tics shivering in the chestIn tranced fixation dreaming upon object before youRemove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibitionLike Proust be an old teahead of timeTelling the true story of the world in interior monologThe jewel center of interest is the eye within the eyeWrite in recollection and amazement for yourselfWork from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language seaAccept loss foreverBelieve in the holy contour of lifeStruggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mindDon’t think of words wh…
STARTED A NEW NOVEL OR NOVELLA TODAY. IT'S CALLED THE NEW VISION. UTAH OF THE 90'S. BASED ON A TRUE STORY. HA. AND NOT. FEELIN THE PULL . . OF SOMETHING . . SMALL EXCERPT OF FIRST 20 PAGES HERE:
There was no lake below us anymore. It was all dry lakes and bottle rockets and boy gangs of squeaky clean youth with big beefy blond haired guru leader. Angel did a finger comb and we all followed suit. Fingers through hair and a little lick to make it stick. Zap all consciousness said Angel. And we nodded our big goofy heads. It was my first time with the synthetic red pill. I had given up on being a vegan save the earth straight edge superstar. I was ready to zap. Roll on into man city and come out a slave. Take your brokenboned churches and mottos and knot wisdom to the grave. We just did what came to us from the mighty universe of old lizard brains. No lies said Angel. We are part of the return. Return to what I never knew. But I knew the way forwards offered no hope at all. Not t…
in his ongoing video art work of “speaking portraits,” poet/artist George Quasha puts an impossible, but unavoidable, question before poets of all kinds and in many places: what is poetry? In response poets let us in on their private space of poetry definition. This intimate view of speaking faces, each filling the screen, shows how different it is for poets/artists to say what poetry or art is than for others (critics, historians, philosophers, viewers). For a particular poet, poetry may not only be an object, a thing historically defined, but something close to the core of one's life, perhaps even a singular event. Here we gain unique access to its nature in the person speaking.
Ewa is making chapbooks for my Victorian toilet bowl reading with Richard Barrett this Tuesday. Drawings by David Kelly-Mancaux. The Chapbook is called IT POPS. Ewa made a chapbook a few years ago with nail varnish for the cover called Balloons. I think there is a theme.http://www.artslav.com/
Walking home from that piano bar last night near King’s Cross a spiky haired man and greasy haired woman were crouched over their big eyed dog. The man was peering into the dog’s eyes and saying: “we don’t eat food from the ground. We only eat food from mummy and daddy. Repeat we only eat food from mummy and daddy.”
Some people really believe their dogs can talk.
The giant city awake in the first warm breath of springtime. 5 days till 40th birthday. Moving into part time insomnia. Money worries. I have enough now but what about next month? The month after? What about the summer?
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THE PAST- a new movie
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I need to update my operating system. A spy among friends. A wolf among men. I've had enough now. Oblivion today. Oblivion tomorrow. I'm in ragdoll state of mind. Ash tray state of mind. When is happy? Today is OK but what about tomorrow?
Happiness = expansive mind
Are bunny rabbits happy? Are trees happy? Is the wind happy? Is the Metro happy? It bears bad tidings.
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I've been a people pleaser most of my life. I need to work on my Moon Pie. I'm in pain. I'm suffering.
Looking for next job? 95,000 jobs. 20, 000 recruiters. Am I a modern invention. What isn't modern? If I die tomorrow will I be in Bardo?
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Splurging on mind. What else is there? An old junket of harmony an…
Most wars are class wars. Send all the sons and daughters of American congress people and then maybe they will think a bit about putting greed before human life!! Dani Sandal's Anti-War poem kicks ass.
As Genesis says Each war contains within it the seeds of a fresh war
Sodden plums and purple hearts. Finger painting of beet juice and bird feathers. Dog Tags are kicked into the skulls of fallen soldiers.Their skulls, the longest lasting fossil of discovery.
"Your breast laden with tarnished Purple Hearts and your mind heavy as sodden plum rotting in the jungle where you buried your own brothers’ bones and carefully kicked silver tags to split skull for the miracle of recovery." check it out here: http://www.camrocpressreview.com/
and Thin Lizzy over here for background listening soundtrack while reading:
Grzegorz is currently in a plane flying to New York for his American tour. Go see him if you are on the East Coast of the U.S.
A rarity for sure!!
(painting by Grzegorz Wroblewski: Muzeum 1 Kolyska Cindy)
Grzegorz Wroblewski and Piotr Gwiazda reading tour events in the U.S. during the month of April:
Friday, April 4, Poetry and Translation: A Conversation with Grzegorz Wróblewski and Piotr Gwiazda. Columbia University, East Central European Center and Department of Slavic Languages, 4 p.m., International Affairs Building, 420 West 118th Street, Room 1219, New York, New York.
Sunday, April 6, Cambridge Public Library, 2 p.m., 449 Broadway, Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Monday, April 7, A Poet, His Translator, and His Paintings: Readings from Kopenhaga. Rhode Island School of Design, Department of Literary Arts & Studies and Division of Liberal Ar…