From “Echonone”, (Oneiros Books 2015)…

Echonone
(.what resonates is the sound of zero cracking apart.)
(…of the no nothing of/ unspoken of through which or/ no not of a/ of the eye no merely nullified/ unto erased through procession bled/ closed in upon as if it/ in stagnate of/ asks of the nothing more/ no nothing more of/ no not following on from ever-nothing ever of/ solace forgotten in ashen cast upon bankrupt earth design/ a sky rendered absent of colourings/ yet settlement of/ through black light sharp discard of all unto hollow in or on or from/ the acrid reek of the un-saying/ dreamed thin/ exposed…)
(…no not of/ of the no further ever asking of/ other than as if it/ voice what voice/ no nothing of a/ if/ nothing of/ extinguished eye obsolete/ as if to have ever-having other than/ blind witnessed blinded other than/ in/ of/ another/ another/ as if it were/ could be/ silent all the while/ nothing still yet solvent/ in mark as if to/ seizure collapse of/ if no/ sung seizure embalm/ upon bankrupt/ yes/ no/ yes or no/ recoil/ another/ another/ recoil of absent traces…)
(…asks no further into or or if/ (‘regards to the)/ astray in hand/ shaft-black hollow/ ask what matter/ none/ no further into if/ echo-echo absent now/ returns thin words that dissipate of/ no voice/ vacant spaces nothing/ the imprint erased in silenteeism/ delible collapse yet silence ever-decibel/ nothing no longer recognition through/ or of/ in/ no further traces/ distances yet no/ all distance yes forgotten/ origin forgotten/ blind traces/ forgotten realms…)
(…in lapse non-lapse/ utterance collapse rescind relapse expel undone/ silence silence knock upon absent no longer the vapours of it/ burned clear/ not a sound merely simulacrum/ rot sound upon decay no longer the/ in/ absent blindwhite no static yes no dark’s reclamation of/ the voice devoured/ remnants cast/ yet untraced returning as if to/ lock unto premise/ premise no no longer given axial suffocate of final word/ what is/ ever if in now/…)
(…viewed from the lack of/ or vantage point of disappearing spaces/ of the blood spent in/ expelled by/ in view of/ naught of/ the lie the dream’s eradicate/ words no more than traces of a silent realm/ in-dream yet of a sun long foreign/ walls upon in given laughter tidal final/ beyond sight or/ wilting echoing out into the nothing claiming all/ spitting out the/ silenced by the nullity of…)
(…from in eye of suspend/ of the vocal attribute snuffed/ silenced respond of a silent response/ no longer other/ demise what yet of/ in/ structure fragment structure fade into/ done with long done it cannot be vocalised/ (‘perhaps the stripped skin of animal a-breathe/ raw embers upon’)/ no nothing of it/ no glimpse in that and so back to endless silent/ blind cataract of breathe/ spill upon/ ever unto/ negated/…)
(…bleak yes or no the word(less)/ out where there the word bleak yes the/ yet silenced/ no nothing more of the trail from absent/ the absent from/ erasure of/ lights fragments a clear film of shadowing/ in the whisper as if to unto for/ if the whisper were as if/ unto/ wall of sky a backdrop of final nothing/ lights fragments deemed as if there were/ vocalised/ and yet unsung/ the collapsed voice/ the/ uttering none of all/…)
(…the voice seeks distances beyond/ else/ which/ stray bite upon absent air/ the subject shears it has no image collective/ recollect/ impales the eye/ eye recoils into the silence/ echoing out from yet it clasps the severed light cast upon through denuded eye upon/ through absent definition/ mere sound and the breath’s recoil from out of which/ the voice seeks blindly/ the words of which fail/…)
(…of the bite it is the/ stone lack/ fades from out of design/ grasps yet from point of which/ fails dry speech of/ retort of/ unto/ voice no/ clamour yes/ bite a-breathe of seek what matter/ nothing more vast nor detached than if/ as if/ what matter if/ subtle/ violent/ inept/ spills from the lung of speech rot through of bountiless eye’s lock/ drift what clear/ in severance tidal/ bled out…)
(…in ocular roving of in-speech/ of speech retract/ buckles under no not of/ emptily/ piss upon final embers/ as if to enflame no not/ breath aligned no not of/ in/ or of/ of the fragments of till waste/ spoken/ burnt black/ clear as liquid undefined/ in the face of/ what this/ of this/ trace yes or no/ sunk judder of cerebrum recoil/ eye/ un-eye in the darkness/ rummaging finding only further/ dead zone/ unquantify…)

 

“ECHONONE” is available from Amazon.co.uk  & Amazon.com

 

 

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From “The Zero Eye”, (Oneiros Books 2014)…

ZeroEye

 

…the lingering bone breakage/ seared-snapped/ a callous of violet winds till breach from nowhere left to else or of the spasm fading/ there is blood flecked in the vacant eyes/ dense walls of shit-smeared permutations/ aching of none or of the next until/ some solace in/ streaming forth/ break now or forever be in havoc lights/ blending with the amber of the nothing known the nothing cared for/ snap-snap the sudden ache of debilitate/ the liquid hands delve through soil/ restless the maggot truth of a sky absent of less than ever was before/ an ache of flesh of meat what spun till entropy/ atrophic/ drugged to the bones in shine of abattoir kaleidoscopic/ a catascope in roomscape of sudden amber/ the split wrists of benign self-execution/ throughout the syringe dusts to caress the callused exigency/ of lack lest there was never enough beauty to keep the absence the lack the searing nothing of the none/ in dismemberment of the heretofore/ the silent executioner smiling/ the old airs rising as if to snatch the breath from out of speech/ useless speech/ useless echoings…
…(draft none/alack/a reek of some solace pyre/ breathing out/settled never settled/ stepping forth till back again once more in glint of blood-flecked snow/dust/and the bleak hand cold covering the mouths of babes/shredded silences/ echoes ever/  onwardly…)

 

From “Echonone”, (Oneiros Books 2015)…

Echonone
…zero open out in eye absent landscape of clear space reek-drown of pageant excise not a words frozen silence/ emptily cease cessation ceased bite bloom centre what centre was now nor nothing ever/ submergence shadow breathe scatter bled orchid none dream blood recede claim forage of/ not a of voice a sounding erased reek of in foreign attribute distance slashed out/ bite bloom no nothing eye of jest forgotten of in instance as if landscape absent promise no/ yes or no what vantage in clear space what other than unseen seen unobservable excise/ in-breath of scuttle vast words cascading into void utter nothing breath a-breathe sharp edge waters/ head of dust lack shudder clasp vocal vibrate deluge of caress absent silence as if it had ever been other than in specious known/ broken by distance untenable white light no nothing of light erasure of/ dream faculty utter void edge waters sharp cast off begin again no yes or no not a/ vocal vibrate cascade silence return as if to deluge wastage distance other shudder/ shadow dissipatory blind light lacking origin cracked tooth caress of velvet nothing/ dredge what of purity trace in or of nothing saying yet echoing disappearing/ silenced yes retract a blend into voice invert exert stone wind not a/ drag of pulse excursion on as if to say that it does not in spite of/ wind lock of cremated violence taken from tangent not a spurious no/ echo echoing of white response breath upon pyre adrift of settled in voice spitting out ever if/ discharge of obsolete pulse within stripped walls drown unto/ as if nothing yet all had taken place forgotten solace silence silence allwhile/ excursion of retract voice invert cremated voice violence wind lock of nothing/…

Blurb by Germán Sierra for “all null having” (forthcoming)

“all null having” is a joyful apparition from the future-in-us, an Artaud/Guyotat-inspired example of feeding-forward fatal-error performance-writing, and a masterful poetic fictionalization of the meandering ways of non-rational logic. Deployed as patterned assemblages of seizing sentences that challenge the illusion of both continuity and discontinuity, “all null having” explores the continuosly emerging bursts of unnatural, beyond-risk decay embedded in the perceived order.
—Germán Sierra, author of “Standards”

A review by Craig Podmore of ‘The Black Vault’ (VoidFront Press)

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‘memento mori…memento mori’
‘Remember death’, the Latin phrase above denotes, casually used within the epicentre of this fine work. It couldn’t be more relative. This tome is the very epitome of all things failing, collapsing and atrophying; it is the poetics of rigor mortis ad infinitum. Regarding the Christian, Latin theory of ‘memento mori’, Socrates once stated that, in relation to philosophy, its practice is “about nothing else but dying and being dead”. In correlation to M’s The Black Vault, this couldn’t be more apt.
The haunting language of The Black Vault elicits a hypnotic, unsettling and esoteric vibe. It is funereal without a heart, yet, the words live with a strong pulse, a pulse that negates any desire to accept existence. After all, this is about death and solely that. As these misanthropic sermons pulsate with regressive puss, it heralds a kind of pseudo-Freudian anxiety, the abnegation of, the fruitlessness of sensuality; the meditation of incessant brutality in a wave of erotic bloodletting – “a candle burns as dried menstrual blood coats the limp cock” or “a cock inserted into a fresh heart, still tepid”, fragments of violent, sexual discourse intersperse amidst the deathly spews of Thanatos influenced erotism that couldn’t be misplaced in a Bataille novel. They’re the Bataillean songs of sex and death, fucking the idea of finality with a bloodied knife – the piquant phallus is a deathly tool in this universe (such as it is) that M has so finely conjured up. Reverting back to the Freudian elements, it is a Freudian tomb encased in an executioner’s denizen of sexual liberty.
M’s language and form is cutting and as sharp as ever as its godless malaise constructs a maelstrom of violence and total embrace of the desecration of the human frame. It is the antithesis of harmony although the ebb and flow of M’s work pervades throughout readers’ bones and marrow, stagnating any sense of hope or benevolence. This is the power of M’s vitriolic, poetic power and it’s with sheer clarity that his words most certainly creep under the skin. It almost has a presence and one that shall stick with you sometime after reading. The short, condensed lines deliver quick stabs/jolts of savagery but in the most aesthetic of ways; if ever you want to read a book where the writer manages to orchestrate, articulate (perfectly well) beautiful passages exploring decay, self-annihilation, nothingness and the decomposition of the physical being (as well as spiritual, not in the sense of spirituality but in the sense of transcendence that hurts) then read M’s work. The embodiment of this work is an act of catharsis; whilst it resonates with a nihilistic punch, it certainly applauds its acceptance of emptiness with a pervasive void-like laughter.
The landscape is the main exhibition here, most probably its protagonist, as it is most graphically described, it creates a sense of actuality; it is the face of emotion, the landscape is a scar, a black vault. You can almost smell and taste the stench of putrefaction throughout; you can feel the cold, barren and ice-laden abstract of the horizon, M transports you with force, no warm invitation to such land of barbarism and slow deaths. He often describes ‘walls’ falling, collapsing, closing in etc…this symbolism frequently appears, perhaps, this is to signify the futility and fear of our narrator/character/abstraction (that mirrors the overwhelming landscape as noted), it is the claustrophobic bite of death, a vestibule unto the throes of deathly ecstasies, the realm of the anxiety of existing, the wanton desire of death, the notion of ‘have it done with…’ rhetoric that hauntingly stings within its layers.
This is fierce work. The very flesh of this book’s innards torments, excites, horrifies and provokes like all great books should do. Ready to confront M’s The Black Vault? Enter at your own risk…

 

You can get ‘The Black Vault’ here

 

Now available from X-Peri/ Editions du Cygne…

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My new book,’Catascope’, is now available from X-Peri/ Editions du Cygne
“the texts of Michael Mc Aloran, as in this new book, radically displace the locus of agency & reflection from the “I” to the “it”, perhaps as in “Es gibt” – It gives thought, as it were. “…I steps it knows no other than” – the orginary identity is made of words, on the surface, but the original identity is the animal identity, decorously obsessed with the flesh. & as with me syntax is seemingly experienced by the writer as an offensive idiocy, though referral is otherwise aligned & words do not say the same.
the futility of existence is expressed perfectly in “…(I speaks because I)” – i like that sort of thing & so should you. buy this book.”
– David McLean