Sunday, July 30, 2023

Michael Jacobson's Books: Works & Interviews, Hei Kuu, Somnolent Game, and id est.

 

             
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Tuesday, July 18, 2023

The Figments Are Here by Jefferson Hansen | Post-Asemic Press #023 | Available Now at Amazon!

Out now from Post-Asemic Press: The Figments Are Here by Jefferson Hansen. Click here to purchase the book at Amazon.


The Figments Are Here is a book of medicine for the mind and soul. Jefferson Hansen takes the reader on a hike through the fragility of what is real and true, and offers a poetic journey through raw existence and a deep mental struggle of a scattered consciousness. In this text, the poet causes the real and the virtual to blur into a scattered survey of the fluid boundaries between nature and spirit. These poems are magical, surreal, and they dance at the edge of a dreamy discourse, and offer a poetic ground that is fluid, evolving, and saturated with imagination. This is the second title by Jefferson Hansen to be published by PAP.


"Jefferson Hansen’s The Figments Are Here rides a decentralized ego living its ecosystem as the embodied actions of a particular shapeshifting, nonhuman entity, cognitive and of this Earth…a super-terrestrial commanded by a female crow to “Burn up everything always,” verbalizing an ecosystemic necessity as life creates entropy out of order. Hansen translates a conscious, spiritual entity from this scientific fact, shedding and gaining form as it passes through various aspects of systemic-textual necessity at any given place in time. Simply put, Figments renders a deep ecological consciousness—the mind of an ever-morphing space transducing itself into time. Poetry colludes with biocentrism and Buddhism to formulate the text’s projected reality as a readable if conspired consciousness appropriated by its perceived and experienced time as a sentient biological entity on Earth. Bravo!"

—Chuck Richardson, author of Iterations of Lilith and Adam

"The poems in Jefferson Hansen’s The Figments Are Here connects music to life, not on a superficial pop culture level, but on a primal and transcendent level. Animals and nature are not the "other"; they are connected to everything we experience—but humans in their limitation often do not recognize this reality, caught up in being humans."

—Terrence Folz, author of Dead Parrots and Bunt Burke

Product details

  • Publisher ‏ : ‎ Post-Asemic Press (July 5, 2023)
  • Language ‏ : ‎ English
  • Paperback ‏ : ‎ 273 pages
  • ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1734866292
  • ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1734866292
  • Item Weight ‏ : ‎ 1.05 pounds
  • Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 6 x 0.62 x 9 inches
  • Price : $16.00
Here Are Some Links To Purchase The Book:

No Spirits

All I know is a strand

of hair curled up

in the corner of a grand ballroom

that has a high, vaulted ceiling.

Most of the ballroom is empty space

though a few people dance

and gyrate slowly.

They are joined by a few

strange beings,

some with three heads

and some with three torsos,

which look like closely arranged pillars

on the porch of a rich house.

Some of these beings help us humans

get by and get out.

Others mean to eat us and do.

We are good food.

There are weird beings everywhere

we look carefully.

Some are hungry.

They are not spirits.

They are beings.

They are figments.

They dance for they dance.



the headless treeman


the headless treeman

foot soles rooted into

a hilltop pumps blood

up between his shoulders

where his head would be

and it courses down

the furrows of the bark

to the now red earth

where some of it seeps in

only to be captured 

by the roots and pumped

through the soles up

the legs and torso to

the heart where it pulses

out and gushes up

in rhythmic geysers


but some blood flows

in rivulets downhill

where it soaks into

the earth and along

these little streams sprout

red orchids reaching

like the treeman’s leaved

fingers for the sun



Mountains Forget


On the day mountains forgot

to be mountains and the rivers

forgot to be rivers

the morning dawned with two suns,

the one seen and the one thought.

But it wasn’t a special day.

Each day mountains and rivers

forget themselves and the sun

dawns as itself and another.

Things are simply not looked at.

Instead, blueprints and figures explain 

ahead of time exactly what is 

to be seen. Such is seen.

The mountains just forget.

The rivers just forget, too.

Someday the sun will forget

to dawn and it won’t be noticed.

The expected sun will instead

crawl across the sky, high at noon,

low in the west by evening.



Bio:

Jefferson Hansen is the author of a number of books, including the novel ...and Beefheart Saved Craig. His latest book was the poetry collection 100 Hybrids. He lives in Minneapolis.

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