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  1111

     Perdika Press, 1 April 2014:   £4.95   ISBN: 978-1-905649-18-1    (pamphlet)

 
1111 was launched on 1st April, 2014.

To order, contact Perdika Press by clicking here:

or contact Mario at mmpetrucci@hotmail.com

"Reminiscent of e.e. cummings at his best... The poetry is vivid, generous and life-affirming
without even a glance at sentimentalism. It is brave, brilliant and beautiful."
Envoi

"Petrucci is somebody working with a lively circumspection in a tradition he's demonstrating
not to have been merely an early-to-mid-20th-century exploration."
Roy Fisher

"Carefully crafted and engaging... making clever use of punning line-breaks to emphasise
the slipperiness of meaning and the vitality of language."
Horizon Review

“Builds in vigour and energy... everything is familiar and yet shifts in our hands unexpectedly...
It should be experienced in its entirety, with its line-broken peaks and troughs building to the ending, a moment of transcendence."

"We are pulled from image to image, from thought to thought, and often the power comes from the sounds
of the words together, the rhythms resulting from their being placed in such a way on the page."
Poetry London (Autumn 2015; Chrissy Williams)

 
1111 presents the closing poem (formally entitled one) in Mario Petrucci's 1111-strong modernist sequence, i tulips. With characteristic ingenuity, Petrucci seeks to transcend the fierce materiality of our times, creating a lexicon of image and form that inhabits the most plural reaches of mood and meaning. These 1111 lines in 11 sections, commenced during the 2011 Armistice silence, embrace the realisation that consciousness can only attain its deepest and fullest expression through an absolute commitment to light without any denial of darkness. Paradoxically, 1111 consummates the psychological, sensual and spiritual struggle of i tulips by suggesting fresh openings for the very enterprise it so richly and provocatively concludes.

 
Click here... for sample audio from the i tulips sequence
(including comments from the author on the project as a whole) - courtesy of Archive of the Now.

 
1111 - an excerpt from section 10...

 
she
drifts as if
mist in her blue robe

the dawned mother
hushing black
to softest

tread so
matterless she
unsnags herself through

barb & palisade so her
one touch may
curve

shield to
chalice – another
brush straighten share

to sword for she is not
holy & barely is
here but

a minimal
flesh form takes
in order to ground

itself...
 
        (c) Mario Petrucci 2014
 
 

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