Author Archives: Janice J. Cunningham

About Janice J. Cunningham

Painter/Writer/ Photographer. Geek. Synesthete. Anachronist. Bibliophile. Follow @JJGrape Tweet

Janice J. Cunningham

my life in drawings, paintings and poetry

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A Poem for Papa (教皇的一首诗)

Four years ago you left for work. It was a humid early summer day in the spring New York City swelter. Leaning nonchalantly in the doorway, you said, “Later,” like nothing…

Source: A Poem for Papa (教皇的一首诗)

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How To Disappear Completely

How To Disappear Completely.

(On the third anniversary of this photograph, now fully recovered.)

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Hello again. Please pardon my absence…

And again…i fell off the planet. Dang paint!

janice j. cunningham

image

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August 9, 2015 · 3:09 am

CAIRN. 2013. Mixed media & stones on stock, 10×14.

CAIRN. 2013. Mixed media & stones on stock, 10×14..

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CAIRN. 2013. Mixed media & stones on stock, 10×14.

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August 9, 2015 · 2:20 am

Watch “The Shining Recut”: HILARIOUS.

Just had to. Too funny not to re-share! 😀

janice j. cunningham

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cold

You are too thin, the doctor said

i just want my blankets &

my wool sweaters, i said 

this is not good, she said 

it is july she said.

  
fuck it.

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The Playful Sentience of Artificial Intelligence – Chappie (2015)

AI rocks.

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Jose Padua: The Night We Tried to Get a Poet Arrested

Vox Populi

I remember the night my friend and I tried to get a poet arrested
for his crimes against literature, his hiding
of horribly sentimental lines by speaking like a seller
of cheap real estate, those broken down houses
where everything and everyone leaks, in neighborhoods
divided by the tornado roar of long, slow trains, night and day.
It was just poetry, I know, words arranged like a landscape
of dark trees against the, whatever, azure sky,
but why should he escape punishment like the stealers
of poor people’s minority fortunes, the rule makers
who make us break our backs at hard labor
while they sit up high in penthouse suites
eating their feasts, drinking the best wine,
as they sneer at the riff-raff drawing heavy strings
and pushing square wheels along concrete floors
in the moldy basement, thump thump?
We called the police. “There he is,” I said,
“at the…

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