
I was reading
The Great Barrington Declaration
then discovered
a photograph
of my mother.

My brother cried, ‘Popeye is dead. Popeye is dead. He was inconsolable.’ His little google-eyed black fish perished overnight and floated in the bowl. At my father’s funeral the stress of the previous day’s open-casket visitation almost pushed my siblings and myself over the edge. We sat in a row along the pew, waiting for the minister to speak, our strange hushed laughter bubbling.

I appreciate the support given to me by the Canada Council for the Arts Digital Originals program in funding this GIF project based on text (with added images) from my most recent book Meme-Noir.


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I appreciate the support of the Canada Council for the Arts Digital Originals Program support for this project.


The Canada Council For the Arts ‘Digital Originals’ grant program has funded my project creating GIFS using text from my recent book Meme-Noir.

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The poem about Minoa
wasn’t about Minoa only.
Another word.
A mystery word.

Not mother of Minoa,
medicines of Minoa
or
magic of Minoa.
No.

Although
any of these
seem valid,
perfectly fine.
Yes.

I’ll stash them someplace.
For the event, in the event, of requiring
a possible, future
mystery word.


To create angels
Is to slice pie and name wedges:

difficult angles of light preserved in heart’s jelly
teenaged crushes trapped diagonally
undirected love felt in the presence of music
infatuation without object

movement in the skull
turtles waking in the mind’s mud

grape cluster the past becomes if artfully remembered

not images
but the script under them
negative space written in spelling errors
negligence that amends the soul


a family of perspectives driving a cumulative death
into the oncoming traffic
whole note in a black triangle on a blue background


disappearances denting the air
weather not noticed by the self absorbed


ignited visions
kissed ashes


barrel in the cellar
parallel fermentation of grape juice and darkness


the strong red taste of every humanizing event

stolen hour at the church dance
when a hard father’s daughter meets the one
who steals her from home


mines and quarries dug with the eyes

dream’s mailman
slipping letters through the slot

the white surrounding this


word


Luciano Iacobelli is a Toronto poet, publisher and editor. From 2007 to 2019 he was involved with Quattro books as both publisher and editor. He still runs a micropress entitled Lyricalmyrical press, specializing in hand made poetry chapbooks. As an author, he has published 6 full length books of poetry, his most recent book DOLOR MIDNIGHT was published in 2018 and deals with the subject of gambling. His next book, NOCTOGRAMS is due to be published in the fall of 2020 and deals with the subject of night and transformation.

Prologue begins THE ANGEL NOTEBOOK (Seraphim Editions, 2007)

Yes and the form once liberated from the laws of physics

and the conventions of decor can create its own ungrounded, untethered place
in the viewer’s imagination…

stimulating synaptic firing and creating new neuropathways

with much the same vitality as lyrical music and dance.

The discovery of, as well as through, Klee and Miro
thus frees the apprehending subject from the representational,

its associative shackles on the one hand, while on the other,
offering refuge

from the psychological desolation many people suffer
when confronted by pure abstraction.

My mother, forever painting under great tutelage:
Arthur Lismer, Kryunsic, Toppham-Brown,
introduced me to both Klee and Miro

before my soul-crushing experience of grade school.

I found as well in Calder’s mobiles, a similar approach to the form,
at once animated and authentic.

I like in your work, the agreement between image delineation and colour choices.

I too am drawn to the language of blue, an entire lexicon unto itself.

Its relationship to white and near-whites — eggshell, plaster, bone
in juxtaposition with material expressions of light such as mustard and yellow ochre,

generate a synergy of comfort for the viewer so the eye feels at home and lingers,
as one might on a desert retreat.

Founder/Curator/Host of the Toronto Urban Folk Art Salon, TG Hamilton has been published in numerous Canadian and international lit.reviews/anthologies. His poem suite El Marillo won 1st prize in the 2018 Big Pond Rumours Chapbook Contest; his book Panoptic (Aeolus House 2018) was nominated for a Pushcart Prize and the Gerald Lampert Award; The Mezzo Soprano Dines Alone was selected for the distinguished John B. Lee Signature Series (Hidden BrookPress 2020). Dr. Hamilton’s MA Thesis (Inside the Words 1984) and PhD dissertation (A Poetics of Possibility, 2001) reflect his lifelong passion for poetry.

Painting by Steven McCabe, done the other day. Water-soluble graphite pencil & acrylic paint + watercolour paint in an 8.5″ X 11″ sketchbook. The Naples Yellow turned ochre-ish blending with graphite.


Since my last activity on this blog
A year and a half ago
I edited a novel (now @ 2nd draft),

And wrote & edited Meme-Noir
(Quattro Books, 2019).

Meme-Noir, as you might guess, is a play on memoir.

I emailed myself stories and anecdotes
Over an eight year period.

During discussions with the publisher (then),
For now the company has been sold,
I experienced a moment of revelation.

Luciano Iacobelli looked over my first ten pages
And said,
‘No, no, no, no, no.’

‘No theme, no thesis,
Just give me the puzzle pieces.’

He gestured with his hands and said,
‘Constellations!’

I was left to interpret ‘constellations’ as I wished.
I came up with the idea of vignettes comprising constellations.

Each vignette in a constellation
Has one key word in common.

Each series of vignettes
Covers various time periods,
Within a constellation.

So, it’s a non-linear timeline.

I was fortunate to receive two excellent blurbs
For the back cover
by Dr. Jean Raffa & Pierre L’Abbe.

In weeks to come I will share excerpts from Meme-Noir
And once again, post poetic texts by exciting authors
Accompanied by my visual art.

Thank you for your visit.

PS. If there are advertisements on this page,
And there might be,
I will deal with that soon.