18 Ergebnisse.

(...of the no nothing of/ unspoken of through which or/ no not of a/ of the eye no merely nullified/ unto erased through procession bled/ closed in upon as if it/ in stagnate of/ asks of the nothing more/ no nothing more of/ no not following on from ever-nothing ever of/ solace forgotten in ashen cast upon bankrupt earth design/ a sky rendered absent of colourings/ yet settlement of/ through black light sharp discard of all unto hollow in or o...

In 'scenes from nowhere', written in 2011, we see the foundation of McAloran's oeuvre beginning to take shape . "This old hulk of bone, meat, this rind... [will] fool the absence into thinking there was ever anything" is a recurring theme through his work, anything, that is, except language to insist on the despair of there never being anything. Beckett-like he says "the growing is the dying", the world is a "trunk full of rats", an "abattoir ...

Michael McAloran's latest offering. Pared down bursts of ontological nihilism. "Michael Mc Aloran's words are a miserable requiescats of the flesh, creating a gravitational laceration in the dark. The betrayed open system of flesh ridicules the erosion of the soul and just keeps cursing the twist of gravity." (Kenji Siratori)

Michael McAloran's new collection of abstract experimental poetic aphorisms...

The latest manifestation of Michael McAloran's dark poetry, caustic and corrosive. Words that almost ask to be snorted rather than read. Beneath it all, desire of oblivion runs. (Philip Larkin) Day is sick of images. Madness. Madness. Night, sick of oblivion. (Edmond Jabès)

Michael Mc Aloran's words are a miserable requiescats of the flesh, creating a gravitational laceration in the dark. The betrayed open system of flesh ridicules the erosion of the soul and just keeps cursing the twist of gravity." (Kenji Siratori)

Michael McAloran's latest book is a selection from his body of writings, spanning the decade 2010 to 2020."Those who look for meaning in Obsidian Flowers may think in terms of Obsidian glass, the sharper than cut diamond material used in the manufacture of surgical instruments that is derived from emissions from the volcano. They could argue that Obsidian Flowers is the sharpened essence of a flawed tradition that has suffered its Shivaistic f...

Triad' is the omnibus collection of three books previously published by VoidFront Press, all null having, nowhere on, cold zero reflect. "...a careening plunge thru strangeness of serotonin amplified perverse conceptual integrity/ a joyful apparition from the future-in-us that challenges the illusion of both continuity & discontinuity/ exploring recurring themes such as the void, the delay, the absence, the irreal/ these words, as is the wont ...

(...all spoken for through the ghost-limb tongue the ocular division & the abject distance of breathe & the in-between where all tomb-breath non of which spat out/ unto blind a final outreach unto where nowhere ever was/ before...)"from the text

Here we are. In the eternal, modern dilemna to tell it as it is, to rip into and burn illusions and falsities, niceties and conventions. This is a book about difference in itself, the multiplied subject, the zonar and polar consciousnesses which roam, which know too much but can reconcile little. Raucous night grants the dead in their nothing. Intricate frames where part-sentences, 'apres l'apocalypse' images, partial rhymes and songs, bit-con...

EchoNone by Michael Mc Aloran further explores how the original imprint is dislocation & homeless. there is actually no nothing, there is no void or vacancy and absence is something that might have mattered, but somewhere else. there is no nothing to hypostasize & it does not noth, & everything is here all the time, often smelling funny, though you might not want it to be. apart from the failure of the eye and sensibility, the book records the...

Michael Mc Aloran's new collection is a series of stunning prose poetry novellas that foreclose on the debt where the lesion was, the small scars in the places where meaning was torn from the broken body. The broken bodies are left to console themselves with alcohol, ejaculation, damaged words. Names do not apply to temporary fragmented things & love is a wound, wherever consolation is, it is not to be found among humans. It is not made of wor...

In this world of Mc Aloran's there is no definitive suffering. One accumulates scars like years, not always aware of each day, each slice into flesh. It is both an accumulative living and dying, a horror and a wry smile at the ongoing absurdity and meaninglessness of existence. from the introduction by Gillian Prew

with poetry and poets, with art, it seems a veritable probability that in the "produce" of this art there are personal developments going on which affect this art and making it a "developmental" "work in progress" even if the art executed, in this instance fullblooded poetry, is expressed in a continuous stream of perfectly formed and inherently consistent isles of artistry, expression, expulsion even exorcism orexoticism. this is in my opinio...

The corrosive marriage of texts by Irish poet Michael McAloran and Netherlands poet Aad de Gids.

The literary equivalent of holding a diamond in your hand and watching it crumble to dust. Powerful and essential. An antidote to the quick-fix X-Factor generation.

Prose poetry more anti-matter than literature, shards of glacial beauty, words bleached of context and affect decaying in space. "A slyer, hipper Beckett for the post-crack generation. Michael McAloran is one to watch out for." Sandy Hook (Black Wurm Gism magazine)

Michael Mc Aloran's 'All Stepped/ Undone' is a canvas strewn with cut-up compositions like dismembered limbs that structure foreboding and challenging pieces of poetry. It explores realms such as the negation of being, the catharsis of existence and a nothing that is embraced via the onslaught of flesh and bone that is the ennui of I. It's almost Baudelaire's spleen in autopsy, dissected with a Bataillean scalpel. Here, the language is vitriol...