essaysandfictions.com

leporsdaydream.blogspot.com

Lepor's Daydream

http://leporsdaydream.blogspot.com/2009/04/gargantua-depression-discovered-me-as-i.html

Tuesday, April 21, 2009. Depression discovered me as I walked, as I walked. To the bus. A giant with legs as short as mine. Crawled between my knees and asked for the time. You silly little thing I shouted, how is it. That you are so small, yet tower over me? Am I so frightened? You are a fantasy. You belong. To the French and treasure born from imaginary sand. This question confused the giant with legs. As short as mine. You’ve created me, silly thing,. Then made himself just as tall as me and unbuttoned.

theselfisaviciouscycle.blogspot.com

the self is a vicious cycle hijacked by the only poet who matters

http://theselfisaviciouscycle.blogspot.com/2009/08/after-not-writing-poems-for-three.html

The self is a vicious cycle hijacked by the only poet who matters. Sunday, August 30, 2009. After Not Writing Poems For Three Months, Le Jennifer Remembers She Once Made a Palace From Blankets. Le Jennifer once walked into a palace. Made of blankets – she was a child –. And there was a stone on the floor. She was a child, and there was a stone on the floor. She prayed to a stone. She made a stone in memoriam. She crawled into a ball and scratched. Her pink mosquito-nibbled skin. Prince Tandem, whose name.

theselfisaviciouscycle.blogspot.com

the self is a vicious cycle hijacked by the only poet who matters

http://theselfisaviciouscycle.blogspot.com/2009/04/consumer-pleases-herself-stale-bagel.html

The self is a vicious cycle hijacked by the only poet who matters. Thursday, April 2, 2009. The Consumer Pleases Herself. A stale bagel with soy butter. This was my breakfast. Funny, how sickening, the words. The food is so bland. I can actually think about 40%. Sales when I chew. Egg salad and juniper jelly. This was my lunch. Funny, how like electric fruit. The words tickle my nerve ends. I bought a poster of a shirtless man. Scrubbing a Clydesdale with yellow. Sponge and the precious moon. Drunk on Se...

theselfisaviciouscycle.blogspot.com

the self is a vicious cycle hijacked by the only poet who matters

http://theselfisaviciouscycle.blogspot.com/2009/04/policy-taxes-please.html

The self is a vicious cycle hijacked by the only poet who matters. Thursday, April 2, 2009. Taxes, please. Taxes. And more taxes. I don’t deserve. To have. I only only deserve this. Cockananny teaspoon. Sweet French. Singer. Doomed Samaritan. Clouds. Clouds. Everywhere are clouds. I won’t feel connected to the world. Unless there are taxes. Taxes. Clouds and taxes. Posted by david pollock/Le Jennifer. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Exit Elliot Le Ginn. Wage Labor You don&#8...

thethinkingi.blogspot.com

The Thinking Eye: Post-critical

http://thethinkingi.blogspot.com/2010/07/post-critical.html

Friday, July 30, 2010. I've been remiss in not mentioning here the art reviews that I've been writing for the Ithaca Post. The Post is a new online publication focusing on the local (Ithaca-area) scene. It publishes more or less daily articles on a variety of subjects;. Headings include Art, Culture, Film, Food, Literature, Music, and Stage. I have also had the pleasure of working with the literary-minded Danielle Winterton as my editor. She has been very responsive and critical with my writing.

paulstubbspoet.wordpress.com

The Icon Maker | Paul Stubbs, poet

https://paulstubbspoet.wordpress.com/2010/09/04/the-icon-maker

Paul Stubbs, poet. Reviews and essays – by Paul Stubbs. Posted by Paul Stubbs. On September 4, 2010 · 7 Comments. The Icon Maker, Paul Stubbs, Arc Publications, 2008. The poetry of Paul Stubbs presents an original and unorthodox re-evaluation of religion and human existence, powered by a visionary impulse which, in The Icon Maker, sees the principal theological players in a world ‘beyond’ religion called to account and made to face uncomfortable transformation into corporeal beings. Issue 42, Oct 2008.

paulstubbspoet.wordpress.com

Flesh (a long poem) | Paul Stubbs, poet

https://paulstubbspoet.wordpress.com/2013/04/23/flesh-a-long-poem

Paul Stubbs, poet. Reviews and essays – by Paul Stubbs. Flesh (a long poem). Posted by Paul Stubbs. On April 23, 2013 · 1 Comment. Introduction by Ingrid Soren. Black Herald Press, 20 May 2013. 130×170 – 54 pages – 10 / 8.50 / $13. Order the book / Commander l’ouvrage. A review of ‘Flesh’ in Stride magazine. Paul Sutton, July 2013). Also by Paul Stubbs. Foreword by Alice Oswald) Flambard Press, 2005. Arc Publications, 2008. Black Herald Press 2010. The End of the Trial of Man. Arc Publications, 2013.

paulstubbspoet.wordpress.com

Reviews & essays – by Paul Stubbs | Paul Stubbs, poet

https://paulstubbspoet.wordpress.com/book-reviews

Paul Stubbs, poet. Reviews and essays – by Paul Stubbs. Reviews and essays – by Paul Stubbs. A search for the cosmological cross. An essay on the religious writings of Simone Weil. The Return to Silence. An Essay on Friedrich Hölderlin. The Glorious Falsehood of Progress. An essay about Émile Verhaeren’s. Translated by Will Stone – Arc Publications, 2014). Poems’ – Émile Verhaeren. 8216;Toward a Vegetal Wisdom’. An essay on the writings of E.M. Cioran. The Boundaries of Being. William Sydney Graham, 1959.

theselfisaviciouscycle.blogspot.com

the self is a vicious cycle hijacked by the only poet who matters

http://theselfisaviciouscycle.blogspot.com/2009/04/drunk-on-sense-when-i-was-girl-my.html

The self is a vicious cycle hijacked by the only poet who matters. Thursday, April 2, 2009. When I was girl my mother screamed. Because the floors moved all by themselves. My brother played music on my teeth. The dead moved like thin disinfectant. In my momma’s big belly. The cool nights. Of girlhood are vaporous and repugnant. Like any drug feeling that lasts too long. And becomes another arena for the brain. To titter-tat and dance the spat. Posted by david pollock/Le Jennifer. View my complete profile.

theselfisaviciouscycle.blogspot.com

the self is a vicious cycle hijacked by the only poet who matters

http://theselfisaviciouscycle.blogspot.com/2009/04/blue-shadows-my-face-has-turned-blue.html

The self is a vicious cycle hijacked by the only poet who matters. Friday, April 24, 2009. My face has turned blue. I must be under. Stress. The clock is singing slowly, without. Any pleasure at all. My rings are laid out. On some red velvet. I should wash my hands. The evening is a dumpster of niceties. This is the best evening ever. My date is. The coat rack. We dance to blues music. You. Could have seen our silhouettes as you passed. Our house, Oliver. Oliver, don’t you pass our house. Le Jennifer is ...