Meet Sudden Denouement Collective Member Jonathan O’Farrell

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The editors of Sudden Denouement Literary Collective know that our strength is our writers. We hope that you enjoy getting to know them through our new Writer Interview Series.

What name do you write under?
Jonathan O’Farrell, but also to be somewhat developed and further adopted ‘ misterkaki ‘

In what part of the world do you live? Tell us about it.
I currently own a house near Leicester in the Midlands of England. But to be honest I have not actually stayed here more than a couple of months since November 2016.
It is a rather unlovely ex coal mining village, albeit it is surrounded by England’s biggest and longest term land regeneration project, The National Forest.

Please tell us about yourself.

Semi-nomad at the moment and in the moment, Creative life transitioner, blogger, photographer, tentative shamanic student and, apparently, poet.
Forthcoming, my first two photographically illustrated anthologies, 2018; ‘Trinity’ and ‘Seasoned in Time’. 2019; ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors, Fire!’.
As rich as the creative experience the current life is, exploring Portugal, France, Spain and later Ireland, by winter 2018 I hope to have ‘settled’, a ‘tiny house” or similar, with sufficient land. The vision; create an abundant garden, for lost souls, separated loved ones, under the sun. A meeting place, with coffee, inspiring books, poetry and healing, however it may arise.

If you have a blog or website, please provide the name and the link.

Misterkaki.wordpress.com

misterkaki-writer.substack.com

When did you begin your blog/website, and what motivated you start it?
I began on WordPress around the spring of 2017. When I started WordPress it was more for somewhere for me to record short ‘thought pieces’, a few travel tips and to some extent a minor showcase for my photography. Since then I have posted much more poetic content, as this has burgeoned. Substack is a new venture, taking over from my presence on Patreon. It will I hope be a platform for a monthly newsletter that can be subscribed to.

What inspires/motivates you to keep blogging on your site?
Of itself it is enough essentially to be a living archive of my writing and visual creativity. Of course the regular and supportive presence of a subscribing and most importantly, commenting readership is a big factor too.

When did you join the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective?
As I recall July 2017.
Why/how did you join Sudden Denouement?
I sent in a poem or two. I subsequently had a number of very enthusiastic online conversations and emails with Jasper Kerkau.

What does “Divergent Literature” mean to you?
In an overstimulated and seemingly homogenous world literature and other multimedia expression that authentically and without compromise cuts through this perceived predominancy.

SD Founder Jasper Kerkau frequently talks about Sudden Denouement writers using the ‘secret language’. What is it?
I perceive this as a brotherhood / sisterhood, even a cabal of writers that, even given our inherent divergence, essentially ‘get’ what the ‘otherness’ is saying.

What are your literary influences?
Ian Dury, soul / punk / funk wordsmith and songwriter. Chap had severe disabilities, but yet a big inspiration. More conventionally, in literary terms the German poet Rainer Maria Rilke is, I have to say, a fair influence in the genre of poems I might call ‘love letters in transit’. Also figuring W.B. Yeats, Rumi, Khali Gibran and our very own S.K. Nicholas. But to be honest, you are as likely to see me reading books on celtic shamanism at the moment. Let’s just say my influences are eclectic, divergent even!

Has any of your work been published in print? (books, literary magazines, etc.) How did that happen?
Published in: Harbinger Asylum: Winter 2017 Paperback – 22 Dec 2017 ISBN-13: 978-1981623723

I wrote to Dustin and submitted three poems and two were published.

Do you have writing goals? What are they?
Forthcoming, my first two photographically illustrated anthologies, 2018; ‘Trinity’ and ‘Seasoned in Time’. 2019; ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors, Fire!’.
More collaborative writing. Thus far I have done some poetry with Canadian author Mary Rodgers. They are in the process of being submitted to Enrealment Press.

Which pieces of your own writing are your favorites? Please share a few links.
Lucid Learning Moments

The Well of Presence

Ritual

and finally, because simply I am fascinated by time and try to live in a present, created afresh in the moment, this, my very latest and curiously, longest by far, poem:

those days

What else would like to share about your writing, Sudden Denouement, or yourself?

A bit of a reveal; as rich as the creative experience the current life is, exploring Portugal, France, Spain and later Ireland, by winter 2018 I hope to have ‘settled’, a ‘tiny house” or similar, with sufficient land. The vision; create an abundant garden, for lost souls, separated loved ones, under the sun. A meeting place, with coffee, inspiring books, poetry and healing, however it may arise.

You see, whilst my writing is my doing; my doing is my writing.

Finally, I must say how very encouraged I am by the latest SD developments, not only that, but by those who had the vision to initiate this divergent literary revolution in the first place. You have my gratitude.

 

The Bellowing Arbour – Jonathan O’Farrell

How much power do you need,
to take from us?
Have we not heard already years,
half asleep, just awake, degraded humanity,
to hear?
Enough perhaps,
to hear the obvious,
our arms swirling.
Perhaps a groaning,
in another over-energetic cyclone.
Be neither comforted
nor distracted,
by thoughts of summer,
just elapsed.
For purring black felines
on your lap,
nor even the singing,
of domestic draughts,
through your cat flap
speak the language you need,
to hear.
Your arbour brothers
and their brides have,
in these shortening days,
hastening wet footings.
And as yet their arms be semi-clothed.
As such and sucking they stand vulnerable,
to that one time,
in how so many years,
storm.
Their time early,
too early?
Smote storm stricken betwixt,
the north and east seas.
Cat curled there around my bedding
and my lax hand around a cooling tea.
Dance,
partners of thundering timbre,
into more of my unthinking time.
But for my brothers
and sisters reach,
oh reach
and bring onto them,
thy swirling beseeching.
Bash their brittle panes,
of protection.
And shriek,
time!
Time is nigh,
civil sleepers.
Come now to the earthen floor,
and rotate all your minds.
Shift swiftly,
into healing embraces before all,
you think you know,
is taken back,
rightfully,
to ancient unyielding slime.


“I guess you might describe me as a semi-nomad, at the moment . . . and in the moment, I might change. I am transitioning into a creative life, blogging, photography and, significantly, the publication of my first two photographically illustrated poetry anthologies, this year.”

Subscribe to my monthly newsletter, with writing, photography, healing garden project updates and travel journals:

https://misterkaki-writer.substack.com

The forest fell from the sky – Jonathan O’Farrell

(Melo – phoenix days)

My foot strides again, over even regular municipal cobbles.
Oh that we had time for civic pride, dear Melo.

Catching up my mind’s eye,
breath-taking,
aghast, imagination fails
and;

The non accommodating cafe chairs now suffice;
for although reclining cats
by the ‘Castelo’ passage
still pose,
the grid and a currency of electrons became useless that night
of the furnace wind.
Not that they needed mobile telecoms the felines, just Bombeiros.
The cats needed mobility, too close to the fire, fur!

It strikes me hard, the light, the dark
and many shades convergent.
Not so subliminal, charcoal.
You can have it back now, your town
‘any colour,
so long as it’s black’,
or, ashen grey at a pinch!
Torches, hairbrushes, a table, art, tool handles, wind up radios, pencils.
All, or most, Incendiary food,
need I say more?

Another cuddle with a scruffy friend some consolation,
as we navigate now primeval carbonised slopes.
Ruefully I survey a spot with forested mountainsides,
between night barking dogs
and intimacy.
Charred, jet black giesta stubs adorn the place,
where I might have called it forest home.
That arson night the accelerant intoxicated forest,
rained incandescent offerings,
on the innocent in their nightclothes.
The firestorm proclaimed, ‘Trajectory Lottery’;
have a tidy roof over your head? – Not any more!

And still we my gentle watchers and I
are knowing of quiet celestial bodies
and fiery characters, all in time and rotation.
Good people, not perfect, but good, struggle.

The remote prospect of novel non-religious house front tiling,
seems to recede, just a little,
In the sooty face of trauma.
No space in the stable this season.
Actually, no stable.
Give me a hammer with a shaft in situ, nails.
Oh, and yes, timber, again.
Then stable.

Auto-estrada,
autopista,
autoroute,
Autobahn, this time
compass pivots north-east,
but, will swing back, again.


I guess you might describe me as a semi-nomad, at the moment . . . and in the moment, I might change. I am transitioning into a creative life, blogging, photography and, significantly, the publication of my first two photographically illustrated poetry anthologies, this year.

As rich a creative experience the current life is, exploring Portugal, France, Spain and later Ireland, by this time next year I hope to have ‘settled’ into a ‘tiny house” or similar, with sufficient land nearby. The vision, to create an abundant garden, a garden for lost souls, lost and separated loved ones, under the sun. A meeting place, with coffee, inspiring books, poetry and healing, however it may arise.

You can find more of my photography and poetry on Patreon

Of the Sword Blade in the Sun – Jonathan O’Farrell

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Of the Sword Blade in the Sun – Jonathan O’Farrell

Some unstoppable truths.

A sword blade has two sides.

The craft of sword making is an old one.

It takes many true and uncompromising elements to make an excellent sword, the right metal, the dark matter that is elemental carbon, white heat of the fire, cleansing waters.

The sword, a strong and mostly unstoppable implement of war, it has two sides. Without both sides it is nothing, not sharp, not honed, not fit for purpose, be it war, defence, or peace keeping.

But when it is strong, true and honed it has unmistakable purpose. And that purpose is not stopped by shields, maybe delayed, but not stopped, ever.  As long as there is the strength of life in the arm that wields it, it will do its work.

Hold it up in the air, against an intense sunlight. If it be held broad side, you may see it. If it be held cutting edge facing into the sun, you may not see it. But at least in the radiant and uncompromising white light of day, you have a chance of seeing it, in all its very final glory.

A sword wielded in the dark of the night is the most dangerous, even to the hand on the shaft of it.

Be it either side of blade, day or night; done with skilled swordsmanship, or blindly thrust, in the dark, by a near do well, the result to the tender and open parts, at its journeys end, are the same, grievous injury, or death.

Wishing all parts of your being true honourable strength, wisdom and light.

Under the sun.

Jonathan O’Farrell Pantreon

[Jonathan is the newest member of Sudden Denouement. He is a brilliant writer and a photographer. We are honored by his contribution. Please check out my interview with Jonathan. – Jasper Kerkau]