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This is an old wordpress blog, usng the classic Hemingway template, I used to combine some words and photos.
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This is shattered fragment of a stumbleupon blog, long since now defunct, where I used to store favourite images, and attach poems to them (or vice versa). Just goes to show that for all its claims of ubiquity, the digital domain doesn't give you much of a purchase in permanence.
PeterJukes's revi
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UPDATE: this site might be a bit quiet for the next few months as I act as the Newsweek/DailyBeast correspondent on the Leveson Inquiry and the ongoing News International revelations unfolding in London. I'll try to cross reference as and when I can, but my work can be followed by clicking the pictu
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My CV was probably my first great work of fiction, and I've been constantly inventive trying to keep despair and insignificance from the door by trying to recompose my variegated and frankly unreliable career into some kind of compelling, believable and progressive narrative. I'm not sure it really
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This redesign of my site brings together various different blogs and postings under one banner. I've been writing about how computer technology and the web revolutionises the means of production, distribution and exchange for 20 years or so now. Finally, thanks to Joomla, the software is simple enou
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Inspired both by the digital revolution and the capacity for computers and the internet to 'electrify the word', I first created a website in the mid 90s (at some social space I don't even remember) and then uploaded my own website to demon around 1997. Of course this was genuine mixture of va
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Ancient sound - the inspiration for my website in 2006. See the old version here
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Displaying items by tag: Alexander Blok
Worlds Fly By
Worlds fly by. Years pass. The great hole
Of the universe stares back blankly at us
While you, my shattered senseless soul
Harp on and on about happiness.
Happiness? What's that? Shadows of dusk
On dank grass in the thick of the wood.
Pleasure pickled in the putrid sweetness
Of wine, desire, and all the juices of the blood
Happiness? What is it? A moment's relief.
A brief spell of unconsciousness.
Then you're up and before you know it, off
on this senseless hurling whirligig.
A sigh. A respite. An instant suffice
to get back your breath, just enough
before the wheel turns, lurching to the side
on another plane, humming like a top.
And gripping for our lives to the steely wires,
deafened by a roar that never lets
we imagine in the blurs across our eyes
times and spaces, causes and effects
When will it stop? How can we stand
this reeling meaningless parade?
The world revolts us! Give me your hand
Brother, friend. Let's lose ourselves again.
Version by Peter Jukes of a poem by Alexander Blok
Among the Many Admirers of Carmen
Among your many admirers, all
who flock and hang on your every word,
who laugh and call your name out loud
sits one, like a shadow on the wall:
a drink his only company all night,
and regardless of what you say or do
keeps a watch on your every move,
Till, when the juke box comes alive
Drums beat, bass strums, he turns
to the window and recalls the light
blotted out by the approaching storm
and disturbed by your dancing moving form
thinks of the poems he has yet to write.
Peter Jukes - version of a poem by Alexander Blok