Month: June 2013

Misful Wishtake

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Misful Wishtake


Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia 

from there on in

the coming is rough


above all illuminations

of a doubt


on river of moonbeams

countdown of worries

too much

to know where to begin

largest numbers

return to zero

* * *

even weak storms

are missed

in droughts

* * *

wishes take form

from mutiny

at heart

* * *


always seem

to go

before corrections

are understood

* * *

over thrown


of nervous mirrors


over rested


kissing first time


and created

under daylight’s


* * *

started ravenous


ate ancient


saved modern

for tomorrow


held distance

in shadows

of nets

* * *

shallow lids

did best

they could

to shield vision

from feeling

second best

* * *

fugitive peeks rose to occasion

took mission

as destiny

* * *




* * *


was turned down


but truth

takes life

in stride


sees rejection

as its favorite


* * *

whispers tried not to

but cut through sleep


offset any sense

of a cure

* * *




the missing did

* * *


took up


over breakfast

* * *




* * *

eager transformation


another weekend

* * *

neon gave signs

lessons in youth

and age


took out for a date


* * *



for serendipity


hoped in




in fashion

of moping

* * *




sails amiss

* * *

waking brings mist

* * *

full winds enter







* * *


close to dingy


of sunlight




heavy dust

of silence



at-hand world



with sleight

in mind





Enter the After-Garde Selections from 1998-2010

This Sentimental Education

Back Pocket Book

Distilled! and A Northern Elegy


The Art Of Being Nobody

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The Art Of Being Nobody


Carl Paul Henneman

It is not, what it is

You’ll never change what it is

If we did what it is we want/

Bet these guys would stop touching kids

This world makes you feel crazy

Like you’re the only one seeing this

There’s a homeless man down the street

He got no insurance; he’s real sick

Whistling while we walk by

Oughta/ give him a roundhouse kick

& it’s only getting colder

Even though the ice is getting thin

Live a life but are we living?

Heart atrophy & we’re all in

Bought the fear; just hoping for change

We all know something needs to flip

As the story/s getting older

Anticipate apocalypse

I will be what I am

No one person owns

A fail-safe identity

Write on that tape

Over your mouth

Continue to laugh

Till the truth comes out

Can keep riding this bus

But it ain’t changing its route

Don’t play a part

We never were any more

Deep Image

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Some Principles of Deep Image

as written in a letter to Robert Creeley November 14, 1960


Jerome Rothenberg

The poem is the record of a movement from perception to vision.

Poetic form is the pattern of that movement through space and time.

The deep image is the content of vision emerging in the poem.

The vehicle of movement is imagination.

The condition of movement is freedom.


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E. S. Cormac

What time is it
Clothes will be ready for dryer in 5 minutes.
Maybe 10. The sky is North Atlantic gray but the ocean isn’t here.
The sea is obscured by mountains and a 40 day walk through Sinai

Muslins are no longer vogue
hurry to the garment district wrap Iman in pajamas
no matter the time. It is near 5 in the evening to be clear
Norma Jean’s skirts are safe
There are no vents on the sidewalks, or used condoms
just stubbed out cigarettes, fast food wrappers, a tiny ziploc
The habits of Miss Moss are still in style

Inside supermarket with a vague iterations
Passing Ophelia in Wellingtons twice in the aisles
Clothes to be dried in 20 minutes
Cyrus or Montana staring out so cosmopolitan out of step
Not a semblance to her contemporaries
Babies with babies with babies
Sarahs draped in polar fleece and velours

The capacitor house is gone to China its workers
cleaned up their own mess then sat idle turning into
a museum. You would like it your friends would all be there
and it is a short drive to Olana

It is 5:45. In an hour the lighthouse atop Masada will glow
ruining ships along its escarpments
Folded clothes pass a hand painted sign
that reads DANE’S.

Why did I leave Ophelia in the willows
forever a clambering muse caught stealing glances
I will wear my rue with a difference

Frank O’ Hara wrote poems with a quiet contemplativeness absent of the loud flamboyance of Ginsburg’s beat style, or the pure confessionalism of Lowell. Lampooning Olson’s projective verse essay with his own treatise on, “Personism,” O’Hara maintains that his poems are intended to place poem, poet, and an audience of one together. That through this intimacy poetry is most pure, damn, “Propagandists for technique….and for content.”
O’Hara’s poems read true to his manifesto in technique and style. The poet’s voice is heard in the stanzas, lightly commenting on the contemporary world around him. At times they are quietly confessional without the usual heaviness. They also contain some of the modernist technique for vague references to high art and literature, without becoming epically bogged down. O’ Hara is able to balance low and high art.
His, “I did this then I did that”, cadence like the confessionalist, and the beats is something that has been imitated since his death. O’ Hara’s death by dune buggy cut short a life of poet.


E.S. McCormick studied graphic design at Sage College in his hometown, Albany, New York. In 2006, he joined the military and has deployed three times, once to the Mexican border along southern Arizona, and twice to Afghanistan. He draws his short stories from experiences while serving in Afghanistan and the realities of coming home from conflict. More than personal memoir he strives to add a voice to the lives of those that experienced the conflict, both soldiers and Afghans alike. After returning from a yearlong tour in Southern Afghanistan during 2008-2009, He decided to pursue journalism and studied at Hudson Valley Community College in Troy, New York, and Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts in North Adams MA. In 2009, he received an award for excellence in academic research from Hudson Valley. E.S. McCormick currently lives in the Northern Berkshires of Massachusetts.

from Of isolated limning

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from Of isolated limning


Felino A. Soriano


 when engaging isolates the motive


certainty underwhelms, fatigues the

tongued notions of wind’s awkward

patterned concentration, this

figurative variant suspends

as the supposed objective of

judgment amid conversational

playgrounds, serrated freedom

involves needed movement to

incorporate aspectual melodies

soothing and confirming touch as

vocal to the local position of hand onto

mode of subjective connectivity





                                                                        solid (silver as direction)


                                                            the philosophy of shape s


                                    noted valuations

                                                                                    volume and accordion-smooth


                                                                                        tone of

                            a finger’s vocal

            howl and predicated

                sway and tone of the body’s continuous




varied these rhythms these rhythmic devices

donning time and the sheer clothing of a moment’s

slim acclimation

—rain on arid discovery                     of the memory this honor portends

doubled reinventions

thinking beyond

tonal alphabetic

mirrors, the ref

lectional motives

continue their

isolated moving                                   external

though too, amid

introverted diversions

carving care from the stone-belly cold

of dispositional cool

such then returning equates dual

ignitions to burgeon or halt or

either examines the need’s rendition

to accelerate gist


Felino A. Soriano’s most recent poetry collections include Extolment in the praising exhalation of jazz (Kind of a Hurricane Press, 2013), the collaborative volume with poet, Heller Levinson and visual artist, Linda Lynch, Hinge Trio (La Alameda Press, 2012) and rhythm:s (Fowlpox Press, 2012).  He publishes the online endeavors Counterexample Poetics and Differentia Press. His work finds foundation in philosophical studies and connection to various idioms of jazz music. He lives in California with his wife and family and is the director of supported living and independent living programs providing supports to adults with developmental disabilities.  For further information, please visit

Aesthetics of Immersion Poetry

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Aesthetics of Immersion Poetry


Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia  

Literature is created through the usage of three devices – style, sentiment, substance.  Of these the device which separates prose from poetry is style.  Style is the single most important aspect of poetry.  Whether coming in the guise of paragraphs or in broken lines, style must be of the utmost concern to the poet.  Tone, meter, imagery must push the form into being, from there sentiment is established via metaphor.  A single image running through the three lines of a senryu or 21 syllables of landay can be in itself a notion of so much more than what is easily read.  This is what pushes poetry into distinction from prose.

The next important aspect of style is a question of story.  There may be some innate desire among some to feel the need to tell something and thus the narrative.  This is understood.  This is where style again must come through.  Here is where style disrupts, shatters or perhaps illumines story in a way unlike prose.

The poem is not a short story in broken lines.  The poem is a poem.  Poetry is the art of another way.  It is the art of different approach and perspective.  And perspective should be of serious thought to the poet.  Forget reliable and omniscient narrators.  Think of voice and participants and the act of being.  Understand time/space.  Let style adjust understanding.  As sentiment is established throughout the course of the poem, those events/ideas will create a sense of lyricism.  And form must comfort that.  Form has the responsibility of carrying sentiment.  Caring for sentiment.

Words (and their counter – space – and their complement – punctuation) need to be carefully chosen. Substance –the actual words, punctuation, and space are there also to convey sentiment in le mot juste.  even if it means forcing words to work in an unusual way.  Noun, verb, adjective are subject to change in poetry.  All can act.  All can be acted upon.  All add image.  All are image.  And image is everything.

The image is the poem.

A good story makes one read on.  A great poem makes one stop.  This stop is to let the mind fill in the image.  Or fulfill the image.  Or to let the metaphor be carried to its end on the other side of the poem’s conversation.

As all poetry is correspondence.  Exchange is the work of the poem via the combination of style, sentiment, substance.  Poetry talks to/answers to memory.  In such, Proust is poetic at its best.  But it is his style which disturbs his poetry.  Though he breaks story, time, hero, and creates a sense of perspective as none else other than Beckett (who obviously comes out of his shadow), he lacks a certain style in tone and meter.  And space.  He does not allow for the gap, the space, the time to examine – to fulfill the image.  Poetry enjoys its spasms and its sense of specific sparsity regardless of overall length.

To get into the technicalities of esthetics in poetic style, a poem must if not carry then deliver a sentiment via its conversation.  The poem should feel interactive.  The poem should have something to say.  Nonsense is an aspect.  It is not a totality of the poem.  If absurdity is to be used, it must serve a purpose.  (And there is a purpose to Dada and language poems.  There’s something to be said about questioning grammar itself.  And there’s something to removing communication from language which was created just for the purpose of communicating.  And of course, one should always challenge prescriptive linguistics.)

The poem after this, while maintaining/creating a style, must enter a reader into difference.  It must slow the reader into thought.  Into questions.  Into pause.  Poetry’s closest cousin may not be song but comedy which understands pause and not explaining itself.  After this is the comic book which allows each frame to act as a part of the context/text or to be its own individual pictorial representative of an else.  And oh, how the rules are meaningless in comics.  Anything can happen – see Arkham Asylum’s up and down versus left to right reading.  Let stanzas/movements be the rooms they are – filled with their own furniture.

The stanza is not nutmeg to complement the cream of a béchamel.  The stanza is root vegetable after root vegetable to create the stew within the overall broth of white space.

Some well chosen (well, all well-chosen) substance is the nutmeg and perhaps a freshly ground pepper and a secret ingredient or specialty perhaps.  Le mot juste is the mustard or thyme no non-saucier saw coming.

Through the careful interworking of style, sentiment and substance comes the poem.  The poem is work with language not play.  Words work.  And words employ. Words are at play as an athlete is at play knowing this game is a means by which a certain contract will come.  Language is the medium of all literature.  The poem must put this language to its use or give it a new job.

At the same time, poetry is a product and requires producers and raw material.

To conclude, image is the blood of the poem.  Image immersed in the words.  Immersion poetry.  Beyond expression, concept, process and out of focus/without focus should be the images running through.  Through shattered narrative, through spastic, through sparse, through conceptual – the image.  More to the point, the idea of the image.  The trigger to thought.  First the spark (of consciousness) in writer’s mind then spark in reader’s mind.  Poetry of unwriting – leaving space for completion elsewhere.

To read is to perceive.

To write is to convey realthought where realspeak was unable to.


Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia is the author of This Sentimental Education and Enter the After-Garde along with two other collections of poetry. He was raised in Brooklyn, NY and has a degree in Linguistics.  He has studied several living and dead languages in addition to philosophy and poetry at SUNY Albany and Hudson Valley Community College.  He spent over ten years working in restaurants – cooking, washing dishes, etc.  Currently, he works overnights putting boxes on shelves.  By day, he runs kjpgarcia.wordpress.