Tuesday, November 29, 2011

सुर्रेअलिस्म निघत अत थे मिद्तोवं Cinema

Joseph Jablonski in repose (at right):

A Hip, Surrealist Happening Deep in the Heart of Pennsylvania's Cultural Corridor

The über-fantastic, SURREALISM IN 2012, a celebration of the beginning of the 14th baktun (cycle) in the Maya long count calendar, and the fifth rebirth of our Sun is coming to the Keystone state. Penn’s woods. The land of Quaker oats!

And scores of surrealist artists and writers from around the world have submitted works for this eagerly-anticipated exhibition.
It’s going to be quite an extravaganza. A rilly big shew! Held in the GoggleWorks, a new community art center in the centuries-old city of Reading, this gathering of creative forces in Eastern Pennsylvania represents the first collective manifestation of the ongoing surrealist movement in that part of the United States. (Sylvan woods, indeed. Natives call it Penn-suh-vania.)

As part of the fevered hoopla preceding the 2012 show (Grand opening: January 6) Poetry Thursdays will feature Joseph Jablonski and the Lobster-on-a-Leash Players, December 1, 2011, in a special presentation at Midtown Cinema's Reel Café.
Jablonski will be performing “Poems and Tales from the Hidden Closet of the Enigma,” along with cogent elucidation re the role of the surrealist movement in the 21st century.
His writing was featured in the catalog of the World Surrealist Exhibition held in Chicago in 1976, and he’s edited several issues of the periodical Surrealist Enlightenment.
Two early poetry compilations were published by Chicago’s Black Swan Press. Jablonski’s also been published in numerous journals, including Arsenal, Surrealist Subversion, Octopus Typewriter, Free Spirits, Surrealist Insurrections and City Lights Journal.

Jablonski is the driving force behind Surrealism in 2012: Toward the World of the Fifth Sun, the aforementioned international surrealist exhibition scheduled to open in January at the GoggleWorks Center for the Arts in Reading, PA. Ooohh, mama!
Midtown Cinema is located at 250 Reily Street in Harrisburg, the urbane capital city of Pennsylvania. The long-running Poetry Thursdays is hosted by the Almost Uptown Poetry Cartel. A rollicking open reading,(surreal works & authors are suggested)
to begin at 7pm, will precede the feature presentation. More
information: (717) 909-6566.


Thursday, August 11, 2011

Real-time weather discussion straight from the Twitterverse!

Be still my heart.

Turns out the Weather Channel worked with Twitter and Wiredet’s Trendrr to bring real-time tweets to their website, mobile platforms and TV programming. People can look forward to weather-related tweets showing up on the air, but maybe the most important aspect of the project is the way you can interact on the web.

The Weather Channel Social site allows you to see tweets as they roll in from all across the country. You can check their “featured cities” or click on an interactive map to see the latest from other selected cities. A counter will also show you the cities with the greatest weather-related Twitter activity.

Land o' goshen! A counter to show you the cities with the greatest weather-related Twitter activity. What would Teddy Roosevelt think?

Wednesday, May 25, 2011







Friday, May 6, 2011


............glass tabletop in a not-so-dark alley 4/28/11

5/03: I think I could well be a scientist.

I mean, I observe things.
Well, actually I just look at things,
but I’m thinkin’ observe might be a little more scientific.

Hell, I look at things, at leisure, and I make some
hypotheses. I make a lot of hypotheses.
Stop. Look, listen. Hypothesize. Yeah, that’s what
scientists do. And then they have a cup of java.

That’s what I did on Tuesday.
  But I had my java first.

But, seriously folks, there’s a good reason
we’re not doing this sequentially. My friend,
esteemed world traveller, poet and raconteur,
Craig Czury sez, recently, at a poetry reading.
that we don’t remember things chronologically.

Which is pretty darn true, so why should we
live our lives in chronologic order?
(Well, I said that-- but you catch my drift.)

I mean, if God wanted us to live our lives
in some slavishly sequential manner, why
would he have invented the damn flashback?

Or Tivo® for cryin’ out loud!? I rest my

Whew! I gotta tell you, these digressions
take a lot of a guy. The tension of this
lack-of-narrative-resolution hangs over us all
like a 21st century sword of Damocles.

5/05: Okay, so it’s not Cinco de Maio yet
(I’m writing, not posting this on the 4th) but
we’ve already established the value of independent
time, memory and traditional sequence. So let’s
not wait to commemorate that battle at Puebla. ok?

(this sequence actually from May 2006,
I think...) Anachronistically speaking.

Sure enough, a dated reference.
     time marches.
                         I rest my case.



talking along/over time, 
space & force & blue & moon

I had barely uttered three words when an invisible
Hathaway force picked me up and bore me away.
I consider yr lips of fire....

Pants are. like, soaring,
gliding. Shirts can be tricky.
sleeve. Ars longa, not white, or off-white,
or white with a pattern.

Sounds simple enough, but just think
about that. He's going to be wearing this shirt
under a sweater, or maybe with a tie.
Elision. I purse my lips.

This hypothetical trick shirt was going to be
almost impossible to coordinate? You can't really
match just any old green with, say, another random
shade of lime.

Oy! Shall I purse open or closed?
Stay or go? What comes around

goes. Around &; I had an idea in my mind that I was
going to end up getting a villa near a place
called Indevdro. Like it sounds.

With extra large roofing tiles,
blue or green. That seemed simple enough, yet
Van Dyke Parks is one consummate studio virtuoso

and Cycles, is a landmark in American
pop history. Bigger than Woodstock or Plymouth
         & wandering around, I see a piece
of, a piece of antique tile sorta built into the fortress
Blue moon. I was pretty sure.
It. I wanted it. Movies, the poet said,
are like hard mortar. The first year after
someone makes the transition from VHS to DVD
kicks ass. Hot.

The aforementioned kiss. And all
those movies that you're pretty sure
everyone already owns are generally without grace
or artistry.

Yeah, the sky is blue, anyway. How
basic is that? So I just upped and closed my lips.
On purpose. Yeah. Just/ for a thrill.

Indevdro, if you will.

C'è 'na luna mezz'u mare,
Mamma mia m'a maritare
Figlia mia a cu te dare
Mamma mia pensace tu...
--Luna Mezzo Mare, Paolo Citorello


Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Are you warm, are you रियल, Margot? Margot?

To a Woman Looking For Margot
in My Yahoo Junk-Mailbox

O! M was a beauteous dream
melodioso to hum and to shadow
through brambles and such.

A cloud swimming through the goddamn cosmos,
asphalt in a fog, a locomotive in May.

I knew her/ only in spirit. (She loved
her spirits).

And M, O! M. What mystery, what spirit,
what joie. What schwa!

No mail box could hold her.

The tenor of her voice was poignant
as pryamids crumbling in sweet Egyptian sunlight
and sharp, sharp stars.

The moon would be her province.
And I shall not/ trouble you
with mine.

I hope you find your Margot.

I hum, I hope.

No mail box
could ever ever hold her.