#poems — Public Fediverse posts

Αφορμή ένα ρόδο του εσωτερικού κήπου. Με την ευωδια το χρώμα και την ομορφιά του θύμισε ζωή. | SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Αφορμή ένα ρόδο
του εσωτερικού κήπου.
Με την ευωδιά
το χρώμα
και την ομορφιά του
θύμισε ζωή.
Ήρθε απο πέρασμα
με την πνοή
το φως
και το άγγιγμα του αέρα
των εξωτερικών παραθύρων.

Αν και αόρατα στις αισθήσεις,
μιας κι είχα την ίδια ταχύτητα
κι όμως έθρεψαν ζωή.

by SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Για περισσότερα :
– https://stixoi.info/
– https://www.scribd.com/
– https://www.facebook.com/
– https://www.youtube.com/
– https://www.smashwords.com/
– https://www.poemhunter.com/
– https://www.wattpad.com/
– https://www.goodreads.com/
– https://www.overdrive.com/
– https://books2read.com/
– https://fable.co/book/
– https://stmol.author-pages.com

Βαθμολογία:

Αφορμή ένα ρόδο του εσωτερικού κήπου. Με την ευωδια το χρώμα και την ομορφιά του θύμισε ζωή. | SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Αφορμή ένα ρόδο
του εσωτερικού κήπου.
Με την ευωδιά
το χρώμα
και την ομορφιά του
θύμισε ζωή.
Ήρθε απο πέρασμα
με την πνοή
το φως
και το άγγιγμα του αέρα
των εξωτερικών παραθύρων.

Αν και αόρατα στις αισθήσεις,
μιας κι είχα την ίδια ταχύτητα
κι όμως έθρεψαν ζωή.

by SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Για περισσότερα :
– https://stixoi.info/
– https://www.scribd.com/
– https://www.facebook.com/
– https://www.youtube.com/
– https://www.smashwords.com/
– https://www.poemhunter.com/
– https://www.wattpad.com/
– https://www.goodreads.com/
– https://www.overdrive.com/
– https://books2read.com/
– https://fable.co/book/
– https://stmol.author-pages.com

Βαθμολογία:

Αφορμή ένα ρόδο του εσωτερικού κήπου. Με την ευωδια το χρώμα και την ομορφιά του θύμισε ζωή. | SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Αφορμή ένα ρόδο
του εσωτερικού κήπου.
Με την ευωδιά
το χρώμα
και την ομορφιά του
θύμισε ζωή.
Ήρθε απο πέρασμα
με την πνοή
το φως
και το άγγιγμα του αέρα
των εξωτερικών παραθύρων.

Αν και αόρατα στις αισθήσεις,
μιας κι είχα την ίδια ταχύτητα
κι όμως έθρεψαν ζωή.

by SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Για περισσότερα :
– https://stixoi.info/
– https://www.scribd.com/
– https://www.facebook.com/
– https://www.youtube.com/
– https://www.smashwords.com/
– https://www.poemhunter.com/
– https://www.wattpad.com/
– https://www.goodreads.com/
– https://www.overdrive.com/
– https://books2read.com/
– https://fable.co/book/
– https://stmol.author-pages.com

Βαθμολογία:

Αφορμή ένα ρόδο του εσωτερικού κήπου. Με την ευωδια το χρώμα και την ομορφιά του θύμισε ζωή. | SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Αφορμή ένα ρόδο
του εσωτερικού κήπου.
Με την ευωδιά
το χρώμα
και την ομορφιά του
θύμισε ζωή.
Ήρθε απο πέρασμα
με την πνοή
το φως
και το άγγιγμα του αέρα
των εξωτερικών παραθύρων.

Αν και αόρατα στις αισθήσεις,
μιας κι είχα την ίδια ταχύτητα
κι όμως έθρεψαν ζωή.

by SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Για περισσότερα :
– https://stixoi.info/
– https://www.scribd.com/
– https://www.facebook.com/
– https://www.youtube.com/
– https://www.smashwords.com/
– https://www.poemhunter.com/
– https://www.wattpad.com/
– https://www.goodreads.com/
– https://www.overdrive.com/
– https://books2read.com/
– https://fable.co/book/
– https://stmol.author-pages.com

Βαθμολογία:

Αφορμή ένα ρόδο του εσωτερικού κήπου. Με την ευωδια το χρώμα και την ομορφιά του θύμισε ζωή. | SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Αφορμή ένα ρόδο
του εσωτερικού κήπου.
Με την ευωδιά
το χρώμα
και την ομορφιά του
θύμισε ζωή.
Ήρθε απο πέρασμα
με την πνοή
το φως
και το άγγιγμα του αέρα
των εξωτερικών παραθύρων.

Αν και αόρατα στις αισθήσεις,
μιας κι είχα την ίδια ταχύτητα
κι όμως έθρεψαν ζωή.

by SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Για περισσότερα :
– https://stixoi.info/
– https://www.scribd.com/
– https://www.facebook.com/
– https://www.youtube.com/
– https://www.smashwords.com/
– https://www.poemhunter.com/
– https://www.wattpad.com/
– https://www.goodreads.com/
– https://www.overdrive.com/
– https://books2read.com/
– https://fable.co/book/
– https://stmol.author-pages.com

Βαθμολογία:

Poems "woven ... into a beautiful story that will touch your heart" #amwriting #writingcommunity #poems #poetry #inventingreality www.amazon.com/Love-Letters-S...

Poems "woven ... into a beautiful story that will touch your heart" #amwriting #writingcommunity #poems #poetry #inventingreality www.amazon.com/Love-Letters-S...

Poems "woven ... into a beautiful story that will touch your heart" #amwriting #writingcommunity #poems #poetry #inventingreality www.amazon.com/Love-Letters-S...

Poems "woven ... into a beautiful story that will touch your heart" #amwriting #writingcommunity #poems #poetry #inventingreality www.amazon.com/Love-Letters-S...

Once More With —

his eyes went glassy, glassy, grazing
out in the back nine, his fingers reaching
down and plucking mustard
like they used to retrieve tees;
the man with placid face has
gone delicious; gone divine;
become something more than man,
something less than food,
something caught in
history’s mouth, something
ground in the gullet of a tale
as old as time.

Once More With —

his eyes went glassy, glassy, grazing
out in the back nine, his fingers reaching
down and plucking mustard
like they used to retrieve tees;
the man with placid face has
gone delicious; gone divine;
become something more than man,
something less than food,
something caught in
history’s mouth, something
ground in the gullet of a tale
as old as time.

Once More With —

his eyes went glassy, glassy, grazing
out in the back nine, his fingers reaching
down and plucking mustard
like they used to retrieve tees;
the man with placid face has
gone delicious; gone divine;
become something more than man,
something less than food,
something caught in
history’s mouth, something
ground in the gullet of a tale
as old as time.

Once More With —

his eyes went glassy, glassy, grazing
out in the back nine, his fingers reaching
down and plucking mustard
like they used to retrieve tees;
the man with placid face has
gone delicious; gone divine;
become something more than man,
something less than food,
something caught in
history’s mouth, something
ground in the gullet of a tale
as old as time.

Once More With —

his eyes went glassy, glassy, grazing
out in the back nine, his fingers reaching
down and plucking mustard
like they used to retrieve tees;
the man with placid face has
gone delicious; gone divine;
become something more than man,
something less than food,
something caught in
history’s mouth, something
ground in the gullet of a tale
as old as time.

[…]Αργόσχολοι πλούσιοι  Την κλέβουν  Από εσένα, εσένα κι εμένα  Καμιά ιδιωτικότητα  Ώσπου να ξεγυμνωθούν οι ίδιοι […]

[Hellas | Veria 2025]

by SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Για περισσότερα :
– https://stixoi.info/
– https://www.scribd.com/
– https://www.facebook.com/
– https://www.youtube.com/
– https://www.smashwords.com/
– https://www.poemhunter.com/
– https://www.wattpad.com/
– https://www.goodreads.com/
– https://www.overdrive.com/
– https://books2read.com/
– https://fable.co/book/
– https://stmol.author-pages.com

Βαθμολογία:

[…]Αργόσχολοι πλούσιοι  Την κλέβουν  Από εσένα, εσένα κι εμένα  Καμιά ιδιωτικότητα  Ώσπου να ξεγυμνωθούν οι ίδιοι […]

[Hellas | Veria 2025]

by SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Για περισσότερα :
– https://stixoi.info/
– https://www.scribd.com/
– https://www.facebook.com/
– https://www.youtube.com/
– https://www.smashwords.com/
– https://www.poemhunter.com/
– https://www.wattpad.com/
– https://www.goodreads.com/
– https://www.overdrive.com/
– https://books2read.com/
– https://fable.co/book/
– https://stmol.author-pages.com

Βαθμολογία:

[…]Αργόσχολοι πλούσιοι  Την κλέβουν  Από εσένα, εσένα κι εμένα  Καμιά ιδιωτικότητα  Ώσπου να ξεγυμνωθούν οι ίδιοι […]

[Hellas | Veria 2025]

by SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Για περισσότερα :
– https://stixoi.info/
– https://www.scribd.com/
– https://www.facebook.com/
– https://www.youtube.com/
– https://www.smashwords.com/
– https://www.poemhunter.com/
– https://www.wattpad.com/
– https://www.goodreads.com/
– https://www.overdrive.com/
– https://books2read.com/
– https://fable.co/book/
– https://stmol.author-pages.com

Βαθμολογία:

[…]Αργόσχολοι πλούσιοι  Την κλέβουν  Από εσένα, εσένα κι εμένα  Καμιά ιδιωτικότητα  Ώσπου να ξεγυμνωθούν οι ίδιοι […]

[Hellas | Veria 2025]

by SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Για περισσότερα :
– https://stixoi.info/
– https://www.scribd.com/
– https://www.facebook.com/
– https://www.youtube.com/
– https://www.smashwords.com/
– https://www.poemhunter.com/
– https://www.wattpad.com/
– https://www.goodreads.com/
– https://www.overdrive.com/
– https://books2read.com/
– https://fable.co/book/
– https://stmol.author-pages.com

Βαθμολογία:

[…]Αργόσχολοι πλούσιοι  Την κλέβουν  Από εσένα, εσένα κι εμένα  Καμιά ιδιωτικότητα  Ώσπου να ξεγυμνωθούν οι ίδιοι […]

[Hellas | Veria 2025]

by SearchingTheMeaningOfLife

Για περισσότερα :
– https://stixoi.info/
– https://www.scribd.com/
– https://www.facebook.com/
– https://www.youtube.com/
– https://www.smashwords.com/
– https://www.poemhunter.com/
– https://www.wattpad.com/
– https://www.goodreads.com/
– https://www.overdrive.com/
– https://books2read.com/
– https://fable.co/book/
– https://stmol.author-pages.com

Βαθμολογία:

Poems from The Sunset of the Miracle Worker

https://mitchellpluto.com/2026/09/03/poems-from-the-sunset-of-the-miracle-worker/

Poems from The Sunset of the Miracle Worker

https://mitchellpluto.com/2026/09/03/poems-from-the-sunset-of-the-miracle-worker/

Poems from The Sunset of the Miracle Worker

https://mitchellpluto.com/2026/09/03/poems-from-the-sunset-of-the-miracle-worker/

Poems from The Sunset of the Miracle Worker

https://mitchellpluto.com/2026/09/03/poems-from-the-sunset-of-the-miracle-worker/

Poems from The Sunset of the Miracle Worker

https://mitchellpluto.com/2026/09/03/poems-from-the-sunset-of-the-miracle-worker/

New #Poetry book release!

Concise is Not Enough is my new book of #poems, taking a circuitous route between endings, beginnings & everything in between 😊

All human created - no f$&$ing AI!!!

https://stevestillstanding.com/2026/08/25/new-poetry-book-available/

#poem #book #creativewriting

This looks like a fun event happening here in Cambridge for anyone interested in #folkMusic, #labour, #art, #stories, and #poems: https://www.tickettailor.com/events/modifythevan/2152549

This looks like a fun event happening here in Cambridge for anyone interested in #folkMusic, #labour, #art, #stories, and #poems: https://www.tickettailor.com/events/modifythevan/2152549

This looks like a fun event happening here in Cambridge for anyone interested in #folkMusic, #labour, #art, #stories, and #poems: https://www.tickettailor.com/events/modifythevan/2152549

This looks like a fun event happening here in Cambridge for anyone interested in #folkMusic, #labour, #art, #stories, and #poems: https://www.tickettailor.com/events/modifythevan/2152549

This looks like a fun event happening here in Cambridge for anyone interested in #folkMusic, #labour, #art, #stories, and #poems: https://www.tickettailor.com/events/modifythevan/2152549

THE SIX THOUSAND GODS OF WISHFUL THINKING

They are up there! All of them!
They are watching us with
half a span of attention, they
are watching us and dawdling their phones,
they are surprised how much we’re like them, but
not with any familiarity; any fondness; the
six thousand gods are pretty sure
we’ll get out of this one, we
always have in the past; the twelve thousand
(less or more a few) eyes are drifting away,
through the cool of space to some other
place, with some other people:
it’ll all turn out alright, probably,
they’ll check back
later, maybe,
and see what’s left

New poem about when I went to Norway when I was young and I watched some jellyfish float up to feed. The memory really stuck with me, along with the admiration for their existence. Link below:

#writing #reading #poetry #poem #poems #travel #norway #blog #blogging #amreading #amwriting #ampoetry

https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/03/in-the-deep-a-poem-about-jellyfish-memory-and-darkness/

New poem about when I went to Norway when I was young and I watched some jellyfish float up to feed. The memory really stuck with me, along with the admiration for their existence. Link below:

#writing #reading #poetry #poem #poems #travel #norway #blog #blogging #amreading #amwriting #ampoetry

https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/03/in-the-deep-a-poem-about-jellyfish-memory-and-darkness/

New poem about when I went to Norway when I was young and I watched some jellyfish float up to feed. The memory really stuck with me, along with the admiration for their existence. Link below:

#writing #reading #poetry #poem #poems #travel #norway #blog #blogging #amreading #amwriting #ampoetry

https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/03/in-the-deep-a-poem-about-jellyfish-memory-and-darkness/

New poem about when I went to Norway when I was young and I watched some jellyfish float up to feed. The memory really stuck with me, along with the admiration for their existence. Link below:

#writing #reading #poetry #poem #poems #travel #norway #blog #blogging #amreading #amwriting #ampoetry

https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/03/in-the-deep-a-poem-about-jellyfish-memory-and-darkness/

New poem about when I went to Norway when I was young and I watched some jellyfish float up to feed. The memory really stuck with me, along with the admiration for their existence. Link below:

#writing #reading #poetry #poem #poems #travel #norway #blog #blogging #amreading #amwriting #ampoetry

https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/03/in-the-deep-a-poem-about-jellyfish-memory-and-darkness/

In the Deep: A Poem About Jellyfish, Memory, and Darkness

It was an old memory.
In Norway, with unrestrained daylight,
and slugs horned and black, wiggling out of the stalks
of my great aunt’s garden.
Behind her lemon house, with leafy siding,
waxy with uncensored sunlight.

We’re on the sea for lunch, it is black, fathomless,
the inky water clinging to the cliffs.
On a patio, the wind is flag-tight, whipping,
a sightless electric current howling.
The smell is herring, crackers, beer, and cigarette smoke
I’m eight-years-old, eating french fries with mayo.

Our hosts promised me jellyfish.
“Give it about an hour, they
come up to feed, they’re down deep.”
We wait, the sun a muddy pearl.
There are slivers of chittering dolphins,
slicing and dancing through the whitecaps.

Then, they arrive.
Rising, slowly, a time-lapse firework
of living lace and fire, bloomed from a perfect abyss.
Those halos ascending
an endless rack of bioluminescent antlers
threaded into themselves in pulses.

I watched over the rail.
The seagulls cackled. The waves banged.
More, a herd, a cluster, a squadron of coalescing fabric.
Shards of the underworld sun blossoming upwards.
A true kaleidoscope crown spiking
the gloom for all these floating kings and queens.

Now, that evening by the bay
is almost lost against my small life
and its own vast ocean of dark moments.
But, I’m still here
remembering with teary eyes
how those perfect stars

were forged in the crushing darkness.

In the Deep: A Poem About Jellyfish, Memory, and Darkness

It was an old memory.
In Norway, with unrestrained daylight,
and slugs horned and black, wiggling out of the stalks
of my great aunt’s garden.
Behind her lemon house, with leafy siding,
waxy with uncensored sunlight.

We’re on the sea for lunch, it is black, fathomless,
the inky water clinging to the cliffs.
On a patio, the wind is flag-tight, whipping,
a sightless electric current howling.
The smell is herring, crackers, beer, and cigarette smoke
I’m eight-years-old, eating french fries with mayo.

Our hosts promised me jellyfish.
“Give it about an hour, they
come up to feed, they’re down deep.”
We wait, the sun a muddy pearl.
There are slivers of chittering dolphins,
slicing and dancing through the whitecaps.

Then, they arrive.
Rising, slowly, a time-lapse firework
of living lace and fire, bloomed from a perfect abyss.
Those halos ascending
an endless rack of bioluminescent antlers
threaded into themselves in pulses.

I watched over the rail.
The seagulls cackled. The waves banged.
More, a herd, a cluster, a squadron of coalescing fabric.
Shards of the underworld sun blossoming upwards.
A true kaleidoscope crown spiking
the gloom for all these floating kings and queens.

Now, that evening by the bay
is almost lost against my small life
and its own vast ocean of dark moments.
But, I’m still here
remembering with teary eyes
how those perfect stars

were forged in the crushing darkness.

In the Deep: A Poem About Jellyfish, Memory, and Darkness

It was an old memory.
In Norway, with unrestrained daylight,
and slugs horned and black, wiggling out of the stalks
of my great aunt’s garden.
Behind her lemon house, with leafy siding,
waxy with uncensored sunlight.

We’re on the sea for lunch, it is black, fathomless,
the inky water clinging to the cliffs.
On a patio, the wind is flag-tight, whipping,
a sightless electric current howling.
The smell is herring, crackers, beer, and cigarette smoke
I’m eight-years-old, eating french fries with mayo.

Our hosts promised me jellyfish.
“Give it about an hour, they
come up to feed, they’re down deep.”
We wait, the sun a muddy pearl.
There are slivers of chittering dolphins,
slicing and dancing through the whitecaps.

Then, they arrive.
Rising, slowly, a time-lapse firework
of living lace and fire, bloomed from a perfect abyss.
Those halos ascending
an endless rack of bioluminescent antlers
threaded into themselves in pulses.

I watched over the rail.
The seagulls cackled. The waves banged.
More, a herd, a cluster, a squadron of coalescing fabric.
Shards of the underworld sun blossoming upwards.
A true kaleidoscope crown spiking
the gloom for all these floating kings and queens.

Now, that evening by the bay
is almost lost against my small life
and its own vast ocean of dark moments.
But, I’m still here
remembering with teary eyes
how those perfect stars

were forged in the crushing darkness.

In the Deep: A Poem About Jellyfish, Memory, and Darkness

It was an old memory.
In Norway, with unrestrained daylight,
and slugs horned and black, wiggling out of the stalks
of my great aunt’s garden.
Behind her lemon house, with leafy siding,
waxy with uncensored sunlight.

We’re on the sea for lunch, it is black, fathomless,
the inky water clinging to the cliffs.
On a patio, the wind is flag-tight, whipping,
a sightless electric current howling.
The smell is herring, crackers, beer, and cigarette smoke
I’m eight-years-old, eating french fries with mayo.

Our hosts promised me jellyfish.
“Give it about an hour, they
come up to feed, they’re down deep.”
We wait, the sun a muddy pearl.
There are slivers of chittering dolphins,
slicing and dancing through the whitecaps.

Then, they arrive.
Rising, slowly, a time-lapse firework
of living lace and fire, bloomed from a perfect abyss.
Those halos ascending
an endless rack of bioluminescent antlers
threaded into themselves in pulses.

I watched over the rail.
The seagulls cackled. The waves banged.
More, a herd, a cluster, a squadron of coalescing fabric.
Shards of the underworld sun blossoming upwards.
A true kaleidoscope crown spiking
the gloom for all these floating kings and queens.

Now, that evening by the bay
is almost lost against my small life
and its own vast ocean of dark moments.
But, I’m still here
remembering with teary eyes
how those perfect stars

were forged in the crushing darkness.

In the Deep: A Poem About Jellyfish, Memory, and Darkness

It was an old memory.
In Norway, with unrestrained daylight,
and slugs horned and black, wiggling out of the stalks
of my great aunt’s garden.
Behind her lemon house, with leafy siding,
waxy with uncensored sunlight.

We’re on the sea for lunch, it is black, fathomless,
the inky water clinging to the cliffs.
On a patio, the wind is flag-tight, whipping,
a sightless electric current howling.
The smell is herring, crackers, beer, and cigarette smoke
I’m eight-years-old, eating french fries with mayo.

Our hosts promised me jellyfish.
“Give it about an hour, they
come up to feed, they’re down deep.”
We wait, the sun a muddy pearl.
There are slivers of chittering dolphins,
slicing and dancing through the whitecaps.

Then, they arrive.
Rising, slowly, a time-lapse firework
of living lace and fire, bloomed from a perfect abyss.
Those halos ascending
an endless rack of bioluminescent antlers
threaded into themselves in pulses.

I watched over the rail.
The seagulls cackled. The waves banged.
More, a herd, a cluster, a squadron of coalescing fabric.
Shards of the underworld sun blossoming upwards.
A true kaleidoscope crown spiking
the gloom for all these floating kings and queens.

Now, that evening by the bay
is almost lost against my small life
and its own vast ocean of dark moments.
But, I’m still here
remembering with teary eyes
how those perfect stars

were forged in the crushing darkness.

“Attempt what is not certain. Certainty may or may not come later. It may then be a valuable delusion.” the great painter Richard Diebenkorn.

An enjoyable article/blog about #literature #literaryawards #nobelprize #poems and the power of uncertainty.

RE: https://web.brid.gy/r/https://www.themarginalian.org/2026/09/03/wislawa-szymborska-nobel-speech/

“Attempt what is not certain. Certainty may or may not come later. It may then be a valuable delusion.” the great painter Richard Diebenkorn.

An enjoyable article/blog about #literature #literaryawards #nobelprize #poems and the power of uncertainty.

RE: https://web.brid.gy/r/https://www.themarginalian.org/2026/09/03/wislawa-szymborska-nobel-speech/

“Attempt what is not certain. Certainty may or may not come later. It may then be a valuable delusion.” the great painter Richard Diebenkorn.

An enjoyable article/blog about #literature #literaryawards #nobelprize #poems and the power of uncertainty.

RE: https://web.brid.gy/r/https://www.themarginalian.org/2026/09/03/wislawa-szymborska-nobel-speech/

“Attempt what is not certain. Certainty may or may not come later. It may then be a valuable delusion.” the great painter Richard Diebenkorn.

An enjoyable article/blog about #literature #literaryawards #nobelprize #poems and the power of uncertainty.

RE: https://web.brid.gy/r/https://www.themarginalian.org/2026/09/03/wislawa-szymborska-nobel-speech/

“Attempt what is not certain. Certainty may or may not come later. It may then be a valuable delusion.” the great painter Richard Diebenkorn.

An enjoyable article/blog about #literature #literaryawards #nobelprize #poems and the power of uncertainty.

RE: https://web.brid.gy/r/https://www.themarginalian.org/2026/09/03/wislawa-szymborska-nobel-speech/

kathy acker: get rid of meaning

https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
American author Kathy Acker was one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. Working through an experimental and avant-garde tradition, she wrote numerous novels, essays, poems, and novellas from the early 1970s to the late 1990s. As a postmodernist, plagiarist, and post-punk feminist, she continues to inspire generations of writers, philosophers, and artists. The book GET RID OF MEANING, edited by Anja Casser and Matias Viegener, is the first comprehensive publication on Acker’s work from an artistic and literary perspective. It includes previously unpublished material from Acker’s personal archive and other collections. The publication is the compilation of a multipart research project including an exhibition and a symposium at Badischer Kunstverein in Karlsruhe.

https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/

kathy acker: get rid of meaning

https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
American author Kathy Acker was one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. Working through an experimental and avant-garde tradition, she wrote numerous novels, essays, poems, and novellas from the early 1970s to the late 1990s. As a postmodernist, plagiarist, and post-punk feminist, she continues to inspire generations of writers, philosophers, and artists. The book GET RID OF MEANING, edited by Anja Casser and Matias Viegener, is the first comprehensive publication on Acker’s work from an artistic and literary perspective. It includes previously unpublished material from Acker’s personal archive and other collections. The publication is the compilation of a multipart research project including an exhibition and a symposium at Badischer Kunstverein in Karlsruhe.

https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/

kathy acker: get rid of meaning

https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
American author Kathy Acker was one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. Working through an experimental and avant-garde tradition, she wrote numerous novels, essays, poems, and novellas from the early 1970s to the late 1990s. As a postmodernist, plagiarist, and post-punk feminist, she continues to inspire generations of writers, philosophers, and artists. The book GET RID OF MEANING, edited by Anja Casser and Matias Viegener, is the first comprehensive publication on Acker’s work from an artistic and literary perspective. It includes previously unpublished material from Acker’s personal archive and other collections. The publication is the compilation of a multipart research project including an exhibition and a symposium at Badischer Kunstverein in Karlsruhe.

https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/

kathy acker: get rid of meaning

https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
American author Kathy Acker was one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. Working through an experimental and avant-garde tradition, she wrote numerous novels, essays, poems, and novellas from the early 1970s to the late 1990s. As a postmodernist, plagiarist, and post-punk feminist, she continues to inspire generations of writers, philosophers, and artists. The book GET RID OF MEANING, edited by Anja Casser and Matias Viegener, is the first comprehensive publication on Acker’s work from an artistic and literary perspective. It includes previously unpublished material from Acker’s personal archive and other collections. The publication is the compilation of a multipart research project including an exhibition and a symposium at Badischer Kunstverein in Karlsruhe.

https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/