Poem 'A Tram Ride' Published in Finger Magazine (Adelaide, SA)

A poem I wrote in 2007 was published in Finger Magazine from Adelaide, South Australia in November last year, but I only recently found out about it. Seems they forgot to email me. Strangeness.

Anyway, I'm glad the poem finally saw the light somewhere. You can find it here: http://www.fingermagazine.com.au/?p=139  

Let me know what you think. 

Joran

Winter Glass - Reading

YourMic Home

Originally published in 'The Diamond and the Thief'. 

Poem 'Fathers' published in Cordite Poetry Review 37: No Theme

A poem I wrote, 'Fathers' has been published in Cordite Poetry Review 37: No Theme. I am particularly proud of this, and I'm a bit awed by all the incredible names I have been published amongst. Please read my poem here - and make sure the other poems as well. 

Laurance Wieder - California

from 'The Last Century', Picador, 1992

On the inception of a million words and the birth of a thousand sociology theses -or- How to burn your own community

This poem is obviously inspired by the current riots in London and other English cities. It came to me that in the coming period, however long, we will bombarded with ideas and analyses of the situation and that the topics of these articles might run something like the 'titles' below:

On the inception of a million words and the birth of a thousand sociology theses -or- How to burn your own community


On the burning of your community and how to get away with it.
On the exercising of power by the powerless.
On the protection of property.
On the relative value of flatscreen televisions.
On the inherent worth of the latest sneakers.
On how we could understand Athens and Paris, but not London.
On the quality of education and hooded sweaters.
On drinking rosé wine at 9:30am.
On mugging dazed teenagers and the eating of your own young.
On the best way to explain the meaning of 'chav' to the rest of the world.
On the wisdom of guns.
On 'sympathy for the devil'.
On 'the wretched of the earth'.
On showing the rich we can do what we want.
On proving the point of the rich.
On the absence of social control.
On the pervasiveness of social control.
On 1984.
On big brother/little brother.
On dreamless futures.
On whether a future without dreams is a future at all.
On the safety of darkness and the dangers of being black.
On gang control.
On the Arab spring and the legitimacy of European governments. 
On uniforms, uniformity, and mob mentality.
On masterminds and hive mind.
On the suspension of reason.
On lack of reasons.
On colonialism and never feeling at home.
On coming home early from your holiday abroad.
On having never had a holiday.
On never having been abroad.
On 'let them eat cake'.
On the eating of cake.
On how the cake is being taken.
On 'This takes the cake.'
On democratic representation.
On dialogue and the minimum of trust needed for it.
On looting, immediate gain, and long-term losses.
On disgust, the shaking of heads, and the throwing of molotov cocktails.
On stock markets, banking, and the pointing of boomerang fingers.
On being ordered to kettle peaceful students and lacking the man-power to act when your city is being burned.
On barbarians at the gate.
On barbarians manning the gate.
On barbarians being the gate.
On moloch, 666, and Sodom.
On outsiders and perception.
On blackberries, anonimity, and identity.
On advertising and real needs.
On civil liberty and the definition terrorism.
On 'innit'.
On ideas of fame and the measuring of nano-seconds.
On dancing on graves.
On spontaneous combustion.
On the instantaneous destruction of property and the slow grinding down of human lives.
On peacocks.
On vultures.
On death and taxes.
On carrying the biggest stick.




August 10, 2011 - Joran Monteiro

The Continued Cyberstalking of Leon Bryant

ONE WEEK POEM

Reading of 'Winter Glass' now online

Hi All,

It has been a while again. There is news, but mostly behind the scenes and it falls away from your eyes to be shown in full glory hopefully later this year. The mind churns, just remember.

Thanks to Black Rider Press you can now download a recording of me reading Winter Glass as featured in The Diamond & the Thief  December 2010.

You can also stream it at Poetry Speaks or below.

Joran CA Monteiro – Winter Glass from The Black Rider on Vimeo.

Poem - winter glass - published in 'The Diamond and the Thief'

Hi Everyone,

A poem I am particularly proud of, 'winter glass', has been published in the December edition of one of my favourite online zines, 'The Diamond and the Thief', which is published by the Black Rider Press. 

Read the poem here (pdf download of the zine) and check my bio here.

Also check out the Black Rider's own blog here.

A great start of 2011 for me. I hope it is the same for you.

Joran

Poem published by Verity La.

Hi Everyone,


A poem I wrote, 'Roaches Dancing' has been published on Verity La., a great online lit mag. You can find the post here. Check out other posts on the site while you are at it. There is some choice poetry, great interviews and reviews, and of course fiction there.


It has already been making some whirls, with brad from Maekitso's cafe dedicating a poem to mine. 


It is a real poetry love-fest!


Now we're ready for Christmas!


Love,
Joran


P.S. Please allow me to plug my other blog: Syphilis of the Brain - it is my latest brain child (get it? Brain?) and on it I post whatever I come across on a day to day basis and whatever catches my fancy. Links to music. To films. Odd photos. Art I really like. It pretty low-brow. But low-brow is good, isnt'it? 

Blues Fiction archived online by National Library of Australia

Hi All,

This blog has now been archived by the National Library of Australia's PANDORA program. See the email and links below.

The blog will now regularly be digitally archived by the NLA. You can find the archived blog here

My first poetry collection 'The Monkey Shits in Its Hand' has now been added to the Monash University Library collection here

"Dear Joran

 

...

 

I am delighted to inform you that your publication is now publicly available in the PANDORA Archive at http://nla.gov.au/nla.arc-119730

 

Access to your publication in the Archive is facilitated in two ways: via the Library’s online catalogue; and via subject and title lists maintained on the PANDORA home page http://pandora.nla.gov.au/index.html.

...

Web Archiving Section

National Library of Australia"

Very Cool stuff. Needless to say, I am quite proud. It is nice to be able to search on your name in a library catalogue and have the search actually come up with stuff.

Onward ever.

Cheers,

Joran

New poetry - June 2010

As promised - more poetry for this blog - 3 new poems I wrote this June

Peaking for Books

Tart-stifled, drum-faced, and hog-breathed

girl asking for book eyes unable to center

tongue double in her mouth

sheer struggle to stand

and in the distance I hear a mammoth trumpet

as she opens her teeth in brilliance and wobbles her head bird-like

'I am going clubbing but on the way I want to buy a book'

the strength of her breath like brain-thinner

as her eyes roll back and she shivers 

a titter 

then she disappears

There is a weird moon out tonight

some red light slivering in through the window

the open door

the mouths of browsers

the eyes of city harlots

corners of mouths up-turned in cruel happy thoughts

songs sung in too early drunkenness

late-night binges at their very onset

hats worn askew

skirts drawn short

spirits short-circuiting and nostrils flaring

deep into

that weird moon shining tonight

A sagging recollection of last night

A crust-riddled mental case asked

for the swamp-thing

an anthology of

the scene dragging on

and I can see every detail of the man

as if I’ve taken acid

blood on his hands

real, not figurative

tiny wounds self-scratched

coating him in himself

his eyeballs sit on his cheeks

doming at me, white and moonlike

     pin-prick pupils caused by meds not taken

an arrow of a tongue licking

black-encrusted pencil-lips

I have no solution

no salvation

a field-day of weirdness

    poured into this.

---------------------------------------------------------

Sharks are bald

perhaps a feeling sliding toward the shore

into the water

cold on the soul the girl cuts my hair

bald now I float on my back

my clothes are light

my body heavy

I release my breath and it turns into a cloud

green and purple

a lightning bolt smelling of orange juice hits the water

and a shark 

fried by a million volts

jumps into the air

and lands sizzling

next to me

he takes of his hat in greeting

and tells me

'never let her cut your hair'

and I look at the shark and say

'sharks can't talk'

he growls and grumbles and responds

'remember Samson'

I do remember Samson

an asses' jaw 

thousands of Philistines

lions and 

the rest

a real old testament Hercules

But what does that matter

as I am floating here

on my back and bald

from now on I will ignore fried sharks

and open up my belly to her

and not worry about lightning striking me

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The mind is fogged

The mind is fogged after hours deprivation of sleep  

I render reality through a teacup

a feeling that it might revamp me

The birds outside sing as normal

and the world did not change so much

The mind is fogged with hours of thoughts

The mind is fogged

I have not had cotton candy for years

a missing element

in the sanity/insanity cycle

The mind is fogged through reading others 

who don’t know what it is that it is

that moves 

me and

you

The shame of immovability

the shame of inproductivity

the shame of shame

the fogged mind cares so much

I run straight for the wall

blank numb hit white stars

the nugget bounces

and finally a clear thought

sets sail

Copyright 2010 Joran C.A. Monteiro

OLD POETRY BOOKLET: The Monkey Shits In Its Hand

NEW POETRY BOOKLET: The Wheels Have Been Set In Motion And The Heart Thunders On

The Guns Jumped

The guns jumped

And he nearly fell

But he kept a-foot

By will

And a lapse in gravity

His family cried

And swore

All the males

Of their name

Would bear his

His heart burst

In his chest

And finally

The lightness of heart

He had missed since boy-hood

Returned

His remains

Were turned to ashes

Later that same day

By his family

And eaten

As black bread


Copyright 2010 Joran C.A. Monteiro 

And the Heart Thunders On

The Wheels Have Been Set In Motion

And The Heart Thunders On

Negative Red

Sepia

Copyright Joran C.A. Monteiro August 2009

Hell Will Come For Me

Hell they say will come for me

and as the hammer falls

I don’t got no time

to look over my shoulder

but closer it does crawl

Up and down

that hammer falls

and chained my ankles be

but my heart

they never can cage

my mind is ever free

I stabbed her once

I stabbed her twice

stab three stab four too

blood on my cheeks

hands 

and chest

and gone were you

They found me

rocking in my chair

on my porch I sat

they saw me sit there

covered in you

and inside they went

I knew what I had done

but understand it I did not

they took me into custody

and I laid there on my cot

the jailer he call me

dirty and mean

any insult under sun

but I just laid there

on my cot

why hadn’t I run

And now I sit here

the jury had no trouble with me

the hammers falls

and lord judge

he tells me

may God have mercy on your soul

as we can not

Hell will come for ye

Copyright J.C.A. Monteiro 2009