Tag: Michael McAloran

  • from “breath(en) flux ” by Michael McAloran

    I # .…silence yes/ silenced yes/ as if to ever having done with it/ stripped solace no/   vital lapse in all depth of becoming-un/ as if because it were unto/ ash unto/   no/ pure as never was/ ever was/ given to yet it cannot/ asks of dust what climb or other than / […]

  • Sequences — (After Francis Bacon) by Michael McAloran

    Sequences — (After Francis Bacon)   2…meat unto collapse/ stead lapse/ the lung’s abort in headless barrage the head is/ traces the/ meat’s sarcophagus is the light surrounding/ the forms that bind the subject-object/being in this from onset’s claim/ the stripping down of/ in gradual of irreversible/ meat does not climb it cannot/ it/ blind […]

  • Sequence: ‘Now’s Dark’ at Bone Orchard Poetry

    #1   now’s dark is a clever adjustment of the iris to the notlight,   now’s dark is an anguish of silhouette hidden in tree’s whispering reed   now’s dark is a white chair beneath a tree moon-illumined and somehow wrongly set   there..  #2   now’s dark is a heap of mottled silver black […]

  • ‘Cup’ and ‘New Trees’ by C. Murray

    Cup nest rests her cup (heart, feather) into wood winds capillary In air (above) sky is a heart caught red, its amber spilling nest stills her dust and moss breathe out  underground, wet roots stir the sleeping house up soften      the softening rain my veins answer tree . Cup is © C. Murray . New Trees, there […]

  • Regarding the void through the lens of The Zero Eye

        ‘In the realm of suffering, affliction is something apart, specific, and irreducible.’                                                                                   […]

  • Poems from ‘Of Dead Silences’ by Michael McAloran

    Of The- Head of death The seasons dissipate as if they Had never collected tears A dissolving sky Soil sieved through fingers The silent laughter of the blood Nothing More- Ruins of the foreign sky From which point all are dead Smears of dying animals upon clear glass The flies will gather, nothing more Ignites- […]

  • Review: All Stepped / Undone – by Michael McAloran.

    the griefscape as no-place: All Stepped / Undone – by Michael McAloran. endless ribcage of the sky / the glut of blood beneath and a pulse of shit / dry your eyes / it’s just beginning ( p123 ,  all stepped / undone – ) is © Michael McAloran All Stepped /Undone- is Michael McAloran’s fifth full poetry collection, and […]

  • In Damage Seasons by Michael McAloran

    ‘Clear the air! Clean the sky! Wash the wind! Take the stone from the stone, take the skin from the arm, take the muscle from the bone, and wash them. Wash the stone, wash the bone, wash the brain, wash the soul, wash them wash them!’   The Chorus , from Murder In The Cathedral by T.S […]

  • The Cézannization of what wasn’t left, an excerpt from ‘Machinations’

    untitled image , oil on canvas by © Michael McAloran 2003 histology slice 3 [ a tissue cloth so delicately coloured in mauves and purples indigo and ivory cells become tissue whereas this isn’t at all the case all is one in febrile disequilibrium not excluding momentary states of euphoria and relative equilibrium the macabre beauty […]