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By John C V Fisher

ISBN: 978-1-84991-750-6
Published: 2012
Pages: 66
Key Themes: key themes poetry, journey, mental health

Book Description

John Fisher brings you another text from the Chipmunka imprint. This book is one of two halves, a long poem which delves deep into delicious dramas as its sense falls through the pages combined with a novella that follows a flow of consciousness through a perspective of arriving in the city of Los Angeles. The writer asks questions of himself as he deliberates his role in society focusing on how literary creative endeavours match up to what is epic, the eternal essential truths

About the Author

‘Born 8 December 1979 in London, John Fisher is interested in making original literary constructions and trips in verse of which this book is an example. This is his third book to be published by Chipmunka and he is grateful for their support and expertise in dealing with mental health issues and the publishing process. It is hoped that this book will be enjoyed with the poetry that it contains as it maneovures through themes and journeys in its engagement with the written word.

Book Extract


This guy started out fine, been to school, boy done good, went to College, and fixated on the position of the kingdom of Media, wanted to prove the grail in that the Kingdom of God is Arcadia and wisdom means Sophia with Diana and Aradia, mother and daughter in sororal society. A European history major, erudite in the stasis of the German High Command and its subjugation to the corporal of World War One, he had devoted himself to the studies that would illuminate the future before him. Indulging in historical examination of the hermeneutics that had formed latter-day society such as the works of Hegel, Marx and Freud, he found himself in the present, always whilst he was alive at the summit of what we collectively appreciate as time.

And, with his studies, he had gained some sort of moral second-sight in that, having witnessed the despair of European history, particularly that of the twentieth century, in part because it was in closer proximity to his presence on what seemed to be the angel ladder, he could apply his conscience to his actions aware of what hindsight could engender in behaviour. This is why the girl thing was giving him such grief. If he could save a situation of despair he would.

It was kind of like the Nazis and “The Final Solution”; even if they were determined that their vicious pursuit of the end could justify any means for the hastily surmised Aryan viewpoint and, being so aware of the evils of their “solution” that they neglected to detail any paperwork pertaining to it, they could never justify the facts of their actions with the years that followed. There would never be alleviation of conscience for those creatures involved. And this means just as much as any bullshit philosophy you ever garnered from contemplation of gems of thought that struck your mind with the shine of severe colour. Yes, the word would do it working through you, Nietzsche and Machiavelli blowing collegiate minds up, always simply proving the dominant conjecture of Hegel, moving with evolution in time, Eschaton always on the horizon. Nothing else is much up to that when philosophy shows itself to be the determining metier of the ladder.



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