Janet Kuypers’ poetry “Finding where we’re From and the Future” feature 11/4/17

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photos from show

    Below are video, poetry, and photography links (as well as a chapbook link) from the November 4th 2017 (11/4/17, or 20171104, or 4 Nov 2017) poetry performance of Janet Kuypers’ Austin poetry feature through the “Expressions Final Farewell: Featured Reading” at Austin’s the Bahá’í Center, titled “Finding where we’re From and the Future”. In this show she read poetry about autumn, as well as poetry about relationships and love, all accompanied by the music “the Ice is Melting” from the HA!Man of South Africa (as well as a rotating art display).

    Before the show started she also released copies to most everyone there of a chapbook of the writings she was performing in her show, and all of the pieces from this reading were also released electronically in a “Finding Where We’re From and the Future” chapbook, which you can view or download as a PDF file for free any time.

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Poems in this show include (in multiple readings):
Barbie
Burn It In (reaching the end edit)
Earth was Alive and Dying
and
I’m not sick but I’m not well (Future Imperfect edit)

You can also follow the text44zmJvkqgnc links below for
Thom’s photography of the show
and John’s photography of the show.

The “Finding where we’re From and the Future” Scars Publications web page for this show also contains these video, poetry, photography, and chapbook links.

Now Even Now. A Poem by Robin Ouzman Hislop

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now even now
it’s like a ghost town now
& O the distant hills
 
are a more ghostly blue
than before
 
now even a few stray locals
come & go stranger even now
than they were before &

O the dear police cars patrol
with speakers are more ghostly too
 
& through my bedroom window
the gable ended stone house wall
grows evermore iconic faces
 
than before — even now
as daily the days flock by
more than before — now even now
 
strange fruit in the wet market
a vampire kiss
human blood — human meat
 
but save the economy not the ecology
surveillance – surveillance – surveillance
 
monitor our sick brains
& bury the remains in silicon valley
until hyssops burst through
 
the green embedded
fissures of our padded cells
& the pavements crack beneath
 
save the insects — death to pesticide
save the world with clay balls
like caryatides we bear alms to our own epitaphs
 
the hours of the street endure their empathy
with landscapes ordered from the abettoir
cockroach traffic cockroach computers
 
user friendly – amplify & invade = degrade
habitats – “exotic wildlife threatens humans”
population growth summons armament
 
 

 
 
 
 

Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times ; his publications include
 
All the Babble of the Souk , Cartoon Molecules and Next Arrivals, collected poems, and the recently published Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae , a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
 
You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)

Trump is God

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Trump is God.
He even looks like God.
He’s jealous.
He demands to be worshiped above all Gods.
He smites the ones who oppose Him
and lays waste to the blue state Gomorrah
with pestilence.
He has given of Himself when He
could have been making more Billions.
His sacrifice brings more tears
than a God would sacrifice
as He dispenses His Grace
to those who worship Him
and death to those who don’t.

I’ll pass
and wait for Barron.
She kept Him away from Daddy.
He’s making Wine in the Penthouse.

National Emergency Library

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The Internet Archive has temporarily suspended all wait lists, allowing you to immediately check out any of the 1.4 million books currently in their lending library. Until June 30th or the end of the US national emergency (whichever comes later), every borrowable book will be immediately accessible by anyone—creating, in effect, a National Emergency Library.

National Emergency Library

March 24, 2020

 

Website: https://archive.org/details/nationalemergencylibrary

Announcement: http://blog.archive.org/2020/03/24/announcing-a-national-emergency-library-to-provide-digitized-books-to-students-and-the-public

THE VIRUS MONOLOGUE. Translation from Source: https://lundi.am/Monologue-du-virus by Amparo Arróspide & Robin Ouzman Hislop

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THE VIRUS MONOLOGUE
 
 
“I came to shut down the machine for which you could not find the emergency brake. “
 
 
“Silence, dear humans, all your ridiculous calls to war. Lower the looks of revenge you have on me. Turn off the halo of terror that surrounds my name. We, viruses, from the bacterial background of the world, are the true continuum of life on Earth. Without us, you would never have seen the light of day, nor would the first cell.
 
We are your ancestors, just like stones and algae, and much more than monkeys. We are everywhere you are and where you are not too. Too bad for you, if you only see in the universe what is your liking! But above all, stop saying that I’m the one killing you. You do not die from my action on your tissues, but from the lack of care of your fellow men. If you weren’t as rapacious among yourself as you were with everything that lives on this planet, you would still have enough beds, nurses and respirators to survive the damage I do to your lungs. If you did not store your old people in dying rooms and your able-bodied people in reinforced concrete hutches, you would not be there. If you had not changed the yesterday still luxuriant, chaotic, infinitely populated vastness of the world or rather of the worlds into a vast desert for the monoculture of the Same and the More, I would not have been able to launch out a planetary conquest of your throats.
 
If you had not almost all become, throughout the last century, redundant copies of a single and unsustable form of life, you would not be preparing to die like flies abandoned in the water of your sweet civilization. If you hadn’t made your backgrounds so empty, so transparent, so abstract, believe me that I wouldn’t be moving at the speed of an aircraft. I have only come to carry out the sanction which you have long since pronounced against yourselves. Forgive me, but it is you, as far as I know, who coined the name “Anthropocene”. You have claimed all the honor of the disaster; now that it is accomplished, it is too late to give it up. The most honest among you know this well: I have no other accomplice than your social organization, your madness of the “big scale” and its economy, your fanaticism for the system. Only systems are “vulnerable”. The rest live and die. There is “vulnerability” only with regard to control, its extension and its improvement. Look at me carefully: I am only the reverse of the reigning Death.
 
So stop blaming me, accusing me, tracking me down. Stop paralyzing against me. All of this is childish. I offer you a conversion of the look: there is an immanent intelligence in life. You don’t have to be a subject to have a memory or a strategy. You don’t have to be sovereign to decide. Bacteria and viruses can also make rain and sun shine. So see me as your savior rather than your gravedigger. Feel free to believe me, but I came to shut down the machine for which you could not find the emergency brake. I have come to suspend the operation of which you were the hostages. I came to demonstrate the aberration of “normality”. “To delegate our food, our protection, our ability to take care of our living environment to others was madness” … “There is no budgetary limit, health is priceless”: see how I have the language and the spirit of your governors forked! See how I bring them back to their real rank of miserable swindlers, and arrogant with that! See how suddenly they denounce themselves not only as superfluous, but as harmful! You are for them only the supports of the reproduction of their system, even less than slaves. Even plankton is treated better than you.
 
Be careful, however to blame their shortcomings. Avoid wasting your energy. To accuse them of carelessness is to lend them more than they deserve. Ask yourself, how did you find it so comfortable to let yourself be governed? To praise the merits of the Chinese option against the British option, of the imperial-forensic solution against the Darwinist-liberal method, is to understand nothing of either, of the horror of one as the horror of the other. Since Quesnay, the “liberals” have always regarded the Chinese Empire with envy; and they continue to do so. They are Siamese brothers. That one confines you in your interest and the other in that of “society” always comes down to crushing the only non-nihilistic conduct: taking care of oneself, those one loves and what one loves in those one doesn´t know. Do not let those who led you to the abyss pretend to know how to get out of it: they will only prepare you for a more perfected hell, an even deeper grave. The day they can, they will patrol the beyond with their armies.
 
Thank me instead. Without me, how much longer would all these unquestionable things suddenly suspended been regarded as necessary? Globalization, contests, air traffic, budgetary limits, elections, sports competitions, Disneyland, fitness rooms, most shops, the congress and parliament, school crowding, mass gatherings, most office jobs, all this drunken sociability which is only the flip side of the anguished loneliness of metropolitan dwellings: all this was therefore unnecessary, once the state of necessity manifests itself. Thank me for the test of truth for the next few weeks: you are finally going to live your own life, without the thousand loopholes that, year after year, keep the untenable going. Without realizing it, you had never moved into your own existence. You were among the boxes, and you didn’t know it. You will now live with your loved ones. You will live at home. You will stop being in transit to death. You may hate your husband. You may vomit your children. Perhaps you will want to blow up the decor of your daily life. To tell the truth, you were no longer in the world, in these metropolises of separation. Your world was no more livable in any of its points than on the condition of constantly fleeing. It was necessary to be dazed by movement and distractions so much ugliness had gained presence. And the ghostly reigned among beings. Everything had become so effective that nothing made more sense. Thank me for all of this, and welcome to earth!
 
Thanks to me, for an indefinite time, you will no longer be working, your children will not go to school, and yet it will be the complete opposite of the holidays. Holidays are that space that must be furnished at all costs while awaiting the expected return from work. But here, what opens up before you, thanks to me, is not a demarcated space, it is a huge gaping hole. I am here to disassemble everything. Nothing can guarantee you that the non-world of before will return. All of this profitable nonsense may be over. By dint of not being paid, what could be more natural than not paying your rent? Why would he still pay his debts to the bank, the one who can no longer work anyway? Isn’t it suicidal, in the end, to live where you can’t even grow a garden? Whoever has no more money will not stop eating, and the one who has the iron has the bread- as Auguste Blanqui used to say.
 
Thank me: I place you at the foot of the fork that tacitly structured your lives: the economy or life. It’s up to you. The range is historic. Either the rulers impose their state of emergency on you, or you invent your own. Either you get attached to the emerging truths or you put your head on the chopping block. Either you use the time I am giving you now to figure out the next world from the lessons of the ongoing collapse, or it will end up by radicalizing, even more. Disaster ends when the economy stops. The economy is devastating. It was a thesis before last month. It is now a fact. No one can ignore the fact that it will take police, surveillance, propaganda, logistics and telework to repress it.
 
As you face me, do not give in to panic or denial. Don’t give in to biopolitical hysteria. The coming weeks are going to be terrible, overwhelming, cruel. The doors of Death will be wide open. I am the most devastating production of the ravage of production. I come to nullify the nihilists. The injustice of this world will never be more glaring. It is a civilization, and not you, that I come to bury. Those who want to live will have to make new habits, and their own. Avoiding myself will be the occasion for this reinvention, this new art of distance. The art of greeting each other, in which some were short-sighted enough to see the very shape of the institution, will soon no longer obey any label. It will be an agreement between sentient beings. Do not do it “for others”, for “the population” or for “society”, do it for your own. Take care of your friends and your loved ones. Rethink with them, sovereignly, a just form of life. Make good life clusters, expand them, and I can’t do anything against you. This isn´t a call for the massive return of discipline, but of attention. Not for the end of all lightness, but of all neglect. What other way was left for me to remind you that salvation is in every gesture? That everything is in the infinitesimal?
 
I had to face the facts: humanity only asks itself the questions that it can no longer not ask itself. ”
 
Source: https://lundi.am/Monologue-du-virus Original French Version

Corona Poem | Everything’s Fine

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The day had started with
spraying Clorox on the mailbox
and virus infected mail
and the trip to the ATM to get dirty money
obtained by touching a screen
touched by many hands.

I wiped the disease ridden cart
and pushed it into Walmart.
It preferred to circle the store
by turning to the left.

As the cart led me around Walmart
to the left,
to the left,
let’s go to the left,
I selected infested products
put on shelves by humans
and I passed by other humans,
breathing, breathing,
touching,
touching things.
I soon had a contaminated cart
full of contaminated items
and I was ready to use
another contaminated touch screen
and bring these diseased items

into my house.

Everything’s fine.

Sea Carnies by Daisy Sidewinder

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Summer Breeze Sea Carnies from David Michael Jackson on Vimeo.

Or So it Seems | Poem by David Michael Jackson

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Pollockary by David Michael Jackson

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

or so it seems

Time held me in the throes of my own heart
time held me dreaming of the snow,
of the gravel road,
the long walk to the bus,
and a little boy
looking out of the bus window
at an old man
walking in the snow alone
leaving footprints
crisp and new
and so soon
covered.