About

Introduce yourself – who you are, what you do, and where you are.

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  • I don’t want to write much here …

Zsuzsanna Peremartoni
(ceramicist and poet)
His full name is Peremartoni Zsuzsanna Nagy.


I graduated in Miskolc and Budapest, Hungary. I wrote my first poems at the age of 16. From the age of 23 I lived in Darmstad, Germany, as a ceramic assistant. I had smaller exhibitions in Helsinki and Vienna.I published my first volume in 2016 with the help of the Black Eagle Publisher. (Hungary, Budapest). So far I have published it in the New Source Literary Magazine.In 2018 I was the producer of a Hungarian and English recording of a jazz poetry CD at Origó Studio. Then I became a manager.The CD includes poetry, translator poems by Gábor Gyukics, featuring famous Hungarian jazz musicians (Béla Ágoston saxophone, Viktor Bori piano, Csaba Pengő bass, Tibor Eichinger guitar, Attila Dóra saxophone). The Hungarian CD is available at the Rózsavölgyi Music Store, the Wave Record Store. (Budapest/Hungary)

The English version of the CD is sold in two locations in Vancouver, Canada (Beatstreets Records, Neptoon Records), and it can also be found in Reykjavik, Iceland. (Lucky Records)

A 6 minute demo of an animated video I made can also be found on YouTube.

Since September 2020, I have been a member of a new generation of beat poets at the National Beat Poetry Foundation, Inc.

  • The Great Path*
    Bee hotel yawning between the holes glancing at open fields north wind blows snow eating our frozen fingers They’ll warm up by the nightfall a Chinook greets beyond the great river We speed up our steps under the hangover red clouds the summer is preening I could hear it in the wind and the bees move into their new home my grandfather smiles beyond the […]
  • Tokyo haiku
  • Shaman dance
    I travelled through the glowof your eyes,on our heightened lifewave.I took over allyour vibesthrough several cultures,in a city of a continentour wordson a third language levelon a timeless journey.You kissed the deviland took you on his mysteriousroads where in the smell of sweatyou danced till dawn.I was just watching at you, Throughon an inverted telescope. I saw him take possession of you, with tricks, because I know him.His slippery, slimy, deeppath,that will […]
  • Dear Christmas
    (In memory of Jack Kerouac) The wallet is flat now, how many things to spend on how many gifts! For me, every day is Christmas and all food is a pleasure. 10 grams of happiness, 20 grams of smile, 30 grams of love, always my festive meal. The system of trembling meat spins in the night, chasing the man. Fish, turkey, pork, somewhere a […]
  • In safe arbour
    In memory of my father In the feathery blue of a fluffy could that somebody painted in the sky today, I smelled the fume of your tobacco pipe while veiled in lost sentiments. I sneaked out, away fromthe blue mirrorsof your eyes, just like an uninvited guest.But I kept a cloud for myself, a reflection […]
“Every morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.”