Origami Condom # 4

I have two poems published in the forthcoming edition, # 4, of the excellent Origami Condom.
www.origamicondom.org

Music of 2007

In no order:
Radiohead - In Rainbows
Adele - Hometown Glory
M83 - Digital Shades Vol I
Nico - The Frozen Borderline
Rilo Kiley - Under the Blacklight
PJ Harvey - White Chalk
L.Pierre - Dip
Epic45 - May your Heart be the Map
Trembling Blue Stars - The Last Holy Writer
Thirteen Senses - Contact

Poems at Type A B +

Alongside the very wonderful Misti Rainwater-Lites, David McLean and Sean B Chance, I have had 5 poems published on this excellent site.
http://http://www.typeabpositive.com/Poemsie.html

A Hunger for Mourning by David McLean

erbacce Press are proud to announce the release of A Hunger for Mourning by David McLean.

McLean says "This is a chapbook with 52 poems written recently. None had been accepted for publication at the time. Some have since. They are about the night, sex, death, substance abuse, borderlines and crossing them, and the grave that awaits us full of fathers and nothing."

Two reviews:

David McLean is no slouch when it comes to putting words onto the page - if you've witnessed his prodigious output on his myspace page it will come as no surprise that the 40 or so poems in a hunger for mourning were all written within the space of two or three weeks. So don't buy this book if you're looking for polished gems cut and honed to perfection, what you get here is not so much a collection as a slice of the life of the muse of David McLean - and what a powerful muse it is! It's a worm of the dragon kind, though he keeps his wings folded, compulsively snouting through the undergrowth and the detritus layers of the soil looking for bitter roots to chew and bones to blacken, and just occasionally looking up with a curiously boy-like twinkle in his eyes. So relentless is this beast that sometimes the poet seems to tire of the effort of controlling it - here and there a poem tapers off or succumbs to flippancy, and some words become repetitive and rob his vision of some of it's potency - but mostly he maintains a determinedly persistent course. (You may need a dictionary for some of his words, by the way, I did!) His themes are consistent, his humour dry and his vision dark, and poems often seem to morph one into the other. It might all become too familiar if it were not for the poet's able wordcraft and that incredibly strong sense of his muse writhing it's way through it all. There is some fine poetry here, but I have no doubt the poet would be stunned if anyone were to make too many claims for what is, after all, just the poems that he happened to write in those particular two or three weeks in a year of apparently non-stop writing. What excites most is the prospect of meeting that muse again six months down the line, I have no doubt I will recognise it - or will I? The real reason you should get yourself a copy of a hunger for mourning is not to pick out any one treasure, but to marvel at the living entity that is the ongoing poetic progeny of David McLean.

by Ceris Dien

I'm in labor as I write this review, which shows how much I love David McLean's poetry. David's poems philosophize with spits and snarls. The poems are well-crafted without being bone dry and boring. In short, David's poetry contains meaty, juicy lines, lines you can sink your teeth into. Although A Hunger For Mourning is available as a download, I recommend buying an actual copy of the book so you will have something tangible and solid in your hands that you can return to again and again. And David needs money for Swedish beer. It isn't as cheap as you might think.

by Misti Rainwater-Lites

ISBN: 978-0-9555-7545-7

40 pages

Otoliths[from the editor]

Issue seven of Otoliths has just gone live. It's as eclectic as ever, but that means there's something there for everybody. Lined up in this issue are Sheila E. Murphy, Nico Vassilakis, Anny Ballardini, Vernon Frazer, Matina L. Stamatakis, Geof Huth, Matt Hetherington, derek beaulieu, Andrew Taylor, Nigel Long, Marko Niemi, Michael Steven, Anne Heide, Mark Prejsnar, Márton Koppány, Jim Leftwich, Catherine Daly, Bill Drennan, Julian Jason Haladyn, Alexander Jorgensen, Jeff Harrison, Paul Siegell, Robert Gauldie, Martin Edmond, Raymond Farr, John M. Bennett, John M. Bennett & Friends, Andrew Topel & John M. Bennett, Andrew Topel, Mark Cunningham, Jeff Crouch, Randall Brock, Eileen R. Tabios, Jordan Stempleman, Daniel f. Bradley, Lars Palm, harry k stammer, Karri Kokko, Katrinka Moore, Tom Hibbard, dan raphael & David-Baptiste Chirot. It's what Hieronymous Bosch dreamt about, a Garden of Earthly Delights.

Out Now

Two new publications by Andrew Taylor

Temporary Residence [ISBN: 978-0-9555-7543-3]
collects poems and a piece of poetics from a residency at The Loft Space Gallery in Liverpool in early 2007. It is available as a PDF download and as a chapbook from Lulu and a chapbook from erbacce Press. 20 pages. To buy direct from Lulu click here. To contact erbacce Press click here.

also available

Poetry and Skin Cream [2nd edition] [ISBN:978-0-9555-7540-2]

with a poem omitted from the first edition. Available on-line at Lulu and direct from erbacce Press in the UK. Retailers to be announced. 26 pages. To buy direct from Lulu click here. To contact erbacce Press click here.

Coming soon...

A reprint of my 2004 chapbook Poetry and Skin Cream and a new collection, Temporary Residence are to be published by erbacce Press. The new artwork was designed by James at eyefever. eyefever.co.uk

Poetry reading at Edge Hill University

Cornelius & Jones presents
Erin Mouré
Thursday 25th October 7.30pmTickets £3.50 all
Erín Mouré is one of Canada's most eminent and respected poets. Winner of the Governor General's Award for Furious and the Pat Lowther Memorial Award for Domestic Fuel, Mouré has published twelve books of poetry, including A Frame of the Book and Little Theatres (shortlisted for the Governor General's Award, the Griffin Prize and winner of the AM Klein prize).

She also has five books of poetry in translation, including Sheep's Vigil by a Fervent Person, short listed for the 2002 Griffin Poetry Prize and the 2002 City of Toronto Book Prize. Her latest book of poetry, O Cadoiro, appeared in April from House of Anansi in Canada.
Edge Hill’s Poetry and Poetics Group will also be launching its first CD.

This event will take place in Studio 4 of the Performing Arts Centre.

The Edge Hill Poetry and Poetics group members are:
Robert Sheppard, Andrew Taylor, Cliff Yates, Dee McMahon, Alice Lenkiewicz, Matt Fallaize and Angela Keaton.

erbacce Press

erbacce Press has recently published its first chapbook.
'Bum Rap' by Alan Corkish ISBN: 978-0-9555754-1-9.
Forthcoming titles:
'Lace-circled Darkness' by Lynn Strongin
'Temporary Residence' by Andrew Taylor
and a reissue of 'Poetry and Skin Cream' by Andrew Taylor.
More details to follow.

Poetry in Liverpool

An interesting site with links to past and present Liverpool poets and useful information regarding the Liverpool poetry scene has come to my attention. Check it out.

A new manifesto from Unquiet Desperation

The Manifesto
The counterculture is shattered. A movement that once screamed against the torpor of our time-fettered society is in shards, each fragment reflecting only the petty needs of its adherents. Whether an acolyte of one of the kaleidoscope of self-obsessed musical and literary subcultures, an obsessive over some futile political cause or worse a soul lost to those games and worlds existing only in the circuits of counting machines, we are the heirs of those with grander visions, and their shades regard us with scorn. Those dwellers of high halls that profit from our continued acceptance of the worksheep ethic are pleased: a splintered counterculture leaves them unchallenged, no voice against us squandering our days to gild their cages further. Any hint of resistance and they spew out songs from tame alternative bands, songs that speak of loneliness and shuttered rebellion. Pacification accomplished; nothing deadens like corporate nihilism. It is clear: the counterculture is broken, and it is broken because it is corrupted. Our only chance of liberty is to mend it and to do that we must look back, and heed the lessons of our wild free forebears. First the Transcendentalists of the nineteenth century and then the Beats of the fifties rejected the constraints of their times and took another, more perilous path: not only did they enter the wilderness, seeking existence away from the distractions of society, but they also sought knowledge. Their exploration was inner as well as outer. Unfortunately the Fall would come before the Beats attained enlightenment: they were swept up in the chaos of the sixties. Counterculture decayed, sliding from a flame-eyed band of literary ascetics, men and women that knew the road to true understanding was hard and long, into a hydra-headed youth movement, seeking escape and instant answers, its music already infected by the corporate world it professed to reject. If we are to forge a new counterculture we must reject this slide into factionalism, and follow the example of Thoreau and Emerson, of Ginsberg, Kerouac and Burroughs. We must reject the illusory choices our society forces on us, and strike out on our own quest to experience existence in its rawest, purest form. It will not be easy. The life of the outlaw artist, the outlaw writer disturbs loved ones and invites assault from right and left: honesty infuriates both sides of the political divide. Despite this, our first steps should not be without hope. We are forewarned that the drug-fixated and cultish short-cuts of the sixties lead only to dead ends, and know that though solitude is occasionally necessary Thoreau was never alone for too long in Walden, and even the archetypal outlaw writer, Burroughs, felt drawn to those of like mind. Indeed, this is the lesson to take from the Transcendentalists and the Beats: though comprised of individuals on their own paths to enlightenment, they came together and collaborated to telling effect on their generations and those after. We must be the same: though we draw apart from the petty lives of our peers, it will not be lonely. We will find those like us, and in the end will travel the road together. Looking beyond the shards, we see something deeper, something higher, something enduring. The spirit of creativity still smoulders in the cities and the suburbs, and our recapturing of the spirit of those glorious pioneers will set it alight. We will form the nucleus of a reborn counterculture, no longer shattered, and stand as a beacon to those seeking escape from their groundhog lives. A new movement is forming: can we afford to stand aside? Of course not. We must be at its centre, driving it with the wisdom we will gain. The knowledge we reveal will enlighten the world.
Signed
Unquiet Desperation

Unquiet Desperation 1.16

I have placed copies of Unquiet Desperation 1.16, which is free, in the following places:
Liverpool Central Library
William Brown Street
Liverpool
[on the 2nd floor Literature section]
the egg Cafe
2nd Floor16 - 18 Newington
Liverpool
L1 4ED
and
Probe Records
9 Slater Street
Liverpool
L1 4BW

http://www.unquietdesperation.co.uk/
www.myspace.com/unquietdesperation

erbacce # 10

erbacce 10 is at the printers and will hopefully be back with us on the 28th July 2007 for distribution to subscribers and contributors.
The poets in 10 are:

Ursula Hurley

Christopher Barnes

David McClean

Lynn Strongin

Greg Buddery

Noel Sloboda

Emily Wright

Karl Gielinck

Khalid Khan

Paul Tanner

Sam Smith

Nell Grey

As usual, copies will be for sale at £2 from:

News from Nowhere

96 Bold Street

Liverpool

L1 4HY

and

Linghams Booksellers

9 Banks Road

West Kirby

Wirral

Ch48 0QX

for submissions and subscription details:

www.erbacce.com

erbacce is edited by Alan Corkish and Andrew Taylor.

the erbacce office is located at:

5 Farrell Close

Melling

Liverpool

L31 1BU

UK.

erbacce is an independent publication.

We receive no funding.

Proudly independent since May Day 2004.

Zygote in my Coffee

A recent poem from my residency at the Loft Space in Liverpool called 'Analgesic' has been published in Zygote in my Coffee # 89. Visit the site here.

Poems published at the Bold Street Blog

I have had some poems published on a great new blog about a street in Liverpool called Bold Street. The blog, The Bold Street Project is well worth a visit as will the exhibition forthcoming at FACT in Liverpool. More poems will be posted on the blog soon.
Visit the Bold Street flickr too.

When the City Speaks: The City is the Stage …

Concept

Artists will become the flaneur - city walkers for the day - using the urban space as a stage and the psycho-geographic setting to create art derived and inspired by it.

Context

To create artefacts of what has been seen, found and experienced and memorised on the day of the walk. The situation will be an impromptu one, so the work made on the day will formed from the urban exploration.

Objective

The focus will be the city as a hybrid culture and the artists are to examine its sub-cultures, such as the graffiti artists, tattoo artists, city icons and whatever is considered as an underground scene and the banal and everyday things that often go unnoticed and more. It will be an exploration of the visual language and symbolism in the city space.
OutcomeThe cultural examinations by each artist will then be represented through a chosen mode of expression and media on sections of paper to convey their experiences. This could be through text, painting, drawing, collage, photography, etc..

Programme

This programme will run in three city, starting with Liverpool (UK) in June 2007 moving to London (UK) and then Paris (France).Liverpool, June 2007.London, July 2007.Paris, August 2007.

If you are interested in participating email Jo Derbyshire at aprilskies1204@aol.com.
For further information on this project go to either:www.joderbyshire.co.uk or www.transvoyeur.co.uk.

Poems

Poems
The following poems were first published in Incite in 2000. I thought it was about time they appeared again.

Comfort and Joy

Wearing Sunflowers
or Tendre Poison
cab it to the Strand
create a stir with
what you wear
and the wake of
essence trailing by
Into The Star watch
the crowds part at
the bar as you weave a magic spell
'half a lager and scotch
and coke please'
take the
corner table and watch
as the noise dies down
Rub your foot onto my
instep as you peek
into your shopping bags
showing me the label
of crisp white cotton knickers
The space left as you
go to powder your nose
fills with the stares of
envious men wearing tracksuits and expensive
catalogue club jewellery
Wearing the tight MozzerT-shirt to bed as the sun
begins to set the bed seems
small as the Sunflowers
turn in and the poison begins
to seep out of my body

Late
The steely early winter
wind stirs up the litter,
as I wait outside Central
Station watching the paper
sellers packing up.
I'm off to the Everyman
and you've agreed to comewith me and still I wait, the
station concourse empty nowand still I wait.

One and a half hours later
you turn up out of breath,
stammering apologies about
looking after your brother's kids, I whisper it's fine and it is.

In the Bistro's Third Room
after the performance, people
are trying to get me to stayout drinking, but I've a last train
to catch and you offer to drive me.
After a few pints of Guinness,we're in your Mum's battered
green 'P' reg Cortina and I'm slowly shaking my head in pure
disbelief that YOU are driving ME.

*
A revelation in jeans shuffling
into the lecture theatre late 'Seen
her?' I whisper to my mate 'Yeah
tasty', if there is such a thing
as being able to be knocked down with a feather, that would've been the time to topple me.

*
Unable to sleep on Toddy's brother's sofa that night, despite
whiskey and Joy Division,the last words I uttered to you that night were 'I'll ring you
tomorrow to check you get home OK'
as the slightest swirls of snow were beginning to fall.


Wordsworth and Bukowski

'Adny, you're tooyoung to really have
suffered', she said.'He's older than he
looks, you know.'I laugh inwardly as
the discussion
turns from, Wordsworth to Bukowski.
'I mean, look
at those teeth. Too
straight and clean
for somebodywho has suffered.'

I can't get away
from the fact that Bukowski says
more to
me than Wordsworth.
'I'm not sayingthat Wordsworth
didn't write anything
good, I'm just saying that Bukowski was alive the same time as me.'
Alan says, 'But Wordsworth wrote some amazing stuff - what about The Prelude?'
Pam agrees and I drink my coffee
and think about the fact that I am
being scrutinised
about my work
and that Wordsworth
and Buk are being
mentioned in the same breath.


Head in the Clouds

Wish for my trousers
to be undone while you
stare casually across the room, fringe sitting coyly
across those eyes.

Cast yourself in the role
of dream giver, come to my way of thinking
as the summer gives way
to autumn.
Travel with me down
the Bold Street of old,
where innocence mixed
with apprehension caused
a cocktail of despair.

Meander over with intent
in your eyes, stop and breathe
with the purpose that you crave.
Draw me deep inside feel the
depth of feeling and embrace it.


No Need To Talk

The lights on the horizon
sparkle like fairy lights.
The tide is drawing nearer
as the night air turns colder.

Here they roll down
towards the tiny hotel
where strangers are
made welcome.

Gathering sticks along the shore as the gulls
swoop low. The promise
of whiskey driving us along.
Thriving on the chance
to explain myself away,
you patiently sit, legs intrademark 501s.

Full circle. Ten years on we sit no need to talk.
It's enough to watchyou through the rising coffee cup steam.

Aranyi(for JS and CG)

Spring is in the air and there's a spring in your step.
Guilt about new found happiness dissipates
as I assure you that it's what I need to hear.

Steaming pots of tea and there's a hush settling over the table.
As you embark on a journey of half-missed chances,
how about it being written in the stars?
The city centre grinds on and there's a definite glow about you, regardless
of the clouds laying heavy with rain.
*
Bask in the new found rays of light, taste the first flush of love and embrace it,
allow it to mask the debris that litters our lives. Find yourselves arm in arm.
Discover calm in the plans that you make, delight in the ordinary,
the cereal packet on the table the toast half-eaten at 7 a.m.
Caress all that is to come, scan the future's vista and floorboard it.


(c) Andrew Taylor 2000

Poetics published at Otoliths.

The excellent Otoliths website has kindly published the poetics from my recent residency at The Loft Space Gallery in Liverpool. Click here.

erbacce # 9

The following poets appear in erbacce # 9. The magazine will be sent to subscribers and contributors upon delivery from the printers. Thank you.

Mario Susko

Sharmagne Leland-St John

Colleen Totz Diamond

alex willie singerman

Linda Benninghoff

Lorette C Luzajic

Harry R Wilkens

Jan Oscar Hansen

Brian Blackwell

Jonathan Kelley

James Murphy

Caitlin Louise

David Callin

Paul Tannin

Adam Fish

MG Egan

Lee Firth

Daniel Adey

Peter Bowen

david mclean

Jennifer Hunt

A.D. Winans

John Thomson

Hannah Inglis

Geraldine Green

George Thurman

Douglas Mowbray

Poem published.

'...as they scatter the birds' has been published at the excellent Silenced Press. Visit their website to view.