SPOKEN WORD Paris

Spoken Word in Paris 13 / 02 / 2012

2012-02-17T12:24:00.007-08:00

Report by Alberto

Tensions and rumours and blushings at Spoken Word: it was the night before Valentine’s day. We opened with Brian Howton: "My eyes pulsed and burned, the images received a blur — obscure patterns of light according to a strange geometry.” Emily B: “She was a whore.” Kate from now on on our stage: “You’ll be always forever laughing in my stars.” Kate Noakes: “My smell, when I want to fool you.” Kat: “My life has become a script, a tragic comedy." Georgina introducing Unstrung Letters. For Valentine’s day Patrick drove us through the filthiest of the James Joyce’s love letters: "To Nora Barnacle 2nd December 1909." Being so filthy I have to lock it up into an external link. As you may know in 2004, one of those erotic letter from Joyce to Barnacle was sold at Sotheby's for £240,800 (US$445,000); but for you cheap literary perverts, there is also a facebook group.

James Jewell: An Old Meteor

(...) ..Before my lids could close, another meteor floated from one side of my pupils to the other. Then the ghosts of my grandfathers family told me stories of Chestertown, but I was asleep.”

Ferdia and Shone: “Are you the Genie of the Lamp?” “No. I’m the Gigolo of the lamp, I do wanks." Chris Waller’s sonnet: Ghosts of Hotel Rooms Solitude. Troy needs just a title to put it clear: “2nd Coming”. Our featured poet was Steven James Smith from Dublin, performing the notorious Ticking Clock Poem. Chris spying Beauty. Jason’s Summer Sunday Best from the Tragicoptimist archives. Marie: “She’s white but she’s not racist.” Marie Babie and Patrick covering The Velvet Underground. There's a video. Mandoline reading Robert Haas: The envy of other people poems.

Alberto seeing a drunken bride walking out from darkness. Lucile: “You know I stick, but I don’t stain.” Remi’s tribute to Allen Ginsberg and William Burroughs. Beatrice letting us know more about Cristina Cavalli. Shane: “I cursed poetry.” Pablito: “I ask for a cigarette but I’m already breathless” J.D. exit song about unhappy marriages. Happy S. Valentine’s day!

Report from Spoken Word. Paris. 06.02.2012

2012-02-11T05:35:00.000-08:00

By Alberto
Photos By Jeanne Gustafson
Videos by Jeanne Gustafson from the Spoken Word Paris Facebook

Young Ian not Yelling:

Welcome swingers, downstairs au Chat Noir, our weekly featured poet was Kerrie O’Brien, from Dublin, emerging talent of the 2011 International Yeats Poetry Competition, introducing her book Out of The Blueness, which you still buy on line if you weren’t there. Jeanne on the ambiguity of the word “baiser”, while meeting an italian stereotype called Max Massimiliano. Do you want to hear the whole story? Here. Theko played the loser song. If you want play it one more time. Luisa Claire Dunnigan:

"Chewed up child, raging pink/ Blinking back tears and screaming/
Like a bath unplugged"

Christelle: “Dandelions and lobsters, a cup of tea and a sunny day.” Sandra and Shawn brought a new licence plate from Alabama!!! Shall we be twins forever: “I felt rich already and I haven’t even danced”, Lucy was a spider chewing in a few precise bites, Chris Wallen’s love poems with 2 syllables a lines, Brian’s “Aphrodite didn’t give a shit” and other Olympus tales. Awoko’s song from Qudus Onikeku’s show, for two weeks in France.

Joy.

In Round II, Moe: “I masturbate 5 days a week, it’s a full time job.” Jason: “People should be paid for masturbate.” Troy: “Glued to the joystick”, Georgina: “Masturbatory fantasies.” Which was the theme of the night? “I lay like a carrot”. Beatrice: Erri De Luca and Cesare Pavese in translation. The great “I pensieri di Dina” from “Lavorare Stanca” (Hard Labor)1936. Marie Babie warming the Light Leaks up for the weekend. Gavroche: seeking to discover a more meaningful gold”. Katie “You left me in Jersey”, Betty's collective performance: “You and Me and a thing called Chi? Chris Newens monologue:

“When I was a kid I had a cuddly toy called Ronald. He was my best friend. He was a stuffed octopus.”

Tim from the Glass Petals. Have a look.
Jamie for the first time here, reading a poem by Cat Stevens. Emilija “The wine ran out, but lies didn’t”. Maya’s hit: “I like you, you are sexy and cute / and your eyes are greenish blue”. Jack’s song with no words. Lizzie “Voided, spilled, delighted”. Then was too late and we had to close down. For all those who missed it, for all those who couldn’t find space on the stage list and for all those who enjoyed it, see you next monday.
More Pictures and Videos at: Spoken Word in Paris Facebook Page.
Ciao

Georgina's series continues:

2012-02-10T09:57:00.001-08:00

SPOKENWORD REPORT 30.1.2012

2012-02-05T09:31:00.000-08:00

Cesare Pavese

I thought I'd test how loud we can get with John Lennon's Gimme some truth. Quite loud, but I reckon we didn't reach the limit yet.
Rather than teargas and tazers, Moe barrelled in to Marseille - hot, undulating, woman. The city, he means, not himself. Alabama Sandra, on short, sweet recess from conformity went to Mobile and pursued her some prosperity as a go-go dancer. Erica was back with a new song: "My doctor wants to medicate my imbalances but I tell him that's where I've built my palaces" For Ayayogi, fresh from the poetry squats of South London, the World of the End is nigh. I love the idea that there are poetry squats in South London. Alexa and her free-range heart were into sex with Canned Heat. She asked tough questions. Like, chicken pussy - is it enticing? The kissing is missing, she said. What happened to the kissing? I just want to punch you now. Alas, Kate predicted that you too will also be difficult to decipher. Lucile brought hate poems. And JD is the hottest thing in Alaska.
Then round 2, Kerrie's stars lit you up in the dark. Melamar from Vienna was sharp as a harpoon, a raw diamond. Sid dug down in a sore spot in the earth to find My Lady's Lolling Tongue. Hrayr's God wiped the sweat off his forehead, took out his gold watch. Bea read smokers of paper, translations of Cesare Pavese, an interesting Italian poet, not very cheerful. There was a lot of geography this week, from the poetry squats of South London to Melamar's Free Republic of Poetistan, Moe's road into Marseille. Marie's radiospark whispered of roadblocks ahead. Jessica saw you as the red hot voodoo of New Orleans cemeteries. Chris had a message for his exploiters. While Beth was a fool in burning brown paper, thinking about stealing from Toby. (Go on, Beth. He's asking for it.) Shane brought the silence in the room when you've been caught feeling up one of the other guests. And Rat. And then michael brought the night to a close with beautiful piano, singing some of us learn slow.

See you tomorrow, Monday, for the next episode of SpokenWord.
David

SPOKEN WORD PARIS 23.01.2012

2012-01-28T07:12:00.000-08:00

Report by Alberto.
Beautiful Photos by Kate Noakes.

Spoken Word Rules #2/Bis:

“Don’t ask yourself for whom this little bell tolls, it tolls for thee."
Christelle opens the dance reading Le Diserteur by Boris Vian.

Welcome to spoken word weekly french lesson. Here you have the song with the English translation, and here the original lyrics. Lena kissed Bod Dylan. Theko playing Ukulele. Kate with scissors near her eyes. Ian W. S. warns: “This is the dead land, this is the twinkle of the fading star!!!". Audience Reaction:

Alberto Peeps his God through his ass-hole, his God peeps him through his ass-hole. J.D.Ragan breaks my heart again in several shards , he doesen’t know who wrote this song but it is very romantic it goes like: “I taste your strawberries, I drink your sweet wine...” James, also known as James The Elder: “A comic is the guy who says “I can do Stand up comedy” and you are the one who says: “Yes, but it’s not funny”. Evan reading two poems about wine and age. Costanza, Oh Costanza, I just write down “I tremble” and your poem is over already. Georgina telling us epic stories about the drunken mothers of Connecticut and the biggest ass ever seen (In Connecticut?).
Marianna reading Futilitè. Ambjorn The Elder (I read what it is written on the sign-up page) translating from the Swedish three haikus by a, he promises, a not depressive Swedish poet, the Nobel Prize Tomas Transtrormer....

Death itself arches over me
a chess problem,
has the solution.

Thanks Ambjorn for this sample.

Jimmy (the one in the photo is not Ambjorn): “No animal is more untrustworthy than a cock”. This was a joke between two poems. Second french excercise: Add the accent when missing in Amelia Parenteau's poem:
“Pourquoi Paris? Pour Etudier. Je repete dans les bars.”

Troy: “Ok, playing bingo was disappointing but it has produced such cute little titles like “Backpain” and “Blowing Bubbles”, for his recent Canadian adventures. Pablito was great. Hey Pablito why don’t you send me a couple of lines? Pieton: “5/6 Pastis tout va bien”. Lucy read her “Ambrose” for the slam community. Patrick and Margot replaced Marie Baby:

Georgina finished her story.
But The Story goes on, every Monday. Au Chat Noir.

Sat 28th Jan Other Writers' Group

2012-01-26T05:56:00.000-08:00

As Shakespeare & Company is closed, this Saturday (only) we will meet upstairs at

Café de la Marie
8 place St Sulpice
75006
Métro St Sulpice/Odeon

Usual time 5pm-7pm

Spoken Word Paris 9-01- 2012. First of The year!

2012-01-14T02:57:00.000-08:00

By Alberto.
First Spoken Word in 2012!
New Year, New Life, New Stuff by James, for example, like the Polish Chuck Norris Jokes (Chuck Norris can wear an helmet inside out. For example), Christelle being Sublime and Gourmand, Jason translating Samarago from Portoguese. I guess he had the idea while reading Playboy...

Alexa indeed: “I was raised as a catholic girl and I’m still recovering” and read “Thank you, Sister Mary Andrè” from the first issue of Issue Zero. Griffin following the oral tradition (“not the oral tradition that you think” - he said): “We do not perform poetry, we perform surgery”. Kate: “there is nothing simple about a line.” Lucille introducing the new issue of Scarecrowllective Fanzine. Brian: This is not poetry: Writing with headache. Madeleine borrowing a guitar and singing, Jimmy’s tributes “the view of a dog catching a frisbee.” Lucy’s poem about Concentration Camp. Marie for David Bowie’s birthday “Sufragette City”.

David Bowie

David Barnie

takes us back to the good old times at Shakespeare’s and Company with his Alithosis of the soul. J.D. playing “Hard Times Come Again No More” by Stephen Foster. Another song you should listen while reading this blog (and having a deja-vu.) Ok. I link you a karaoke version. I know what you need.You also need Sid marvellous Last Line:

Told me to walk up here, to put my neck there
Now, speak to me in the language of ducks:
Quack Quack Quack Quack Quack
‘n speak to me in the language of crows:
Caw Caw Caw Caw Caw Gouge my eyes
Speak to me in the language of men,
‘n hang me tight
Then speak to me in the language of God .
Pray Jesus won’t rule us after we die.

They stole Hrayr’s guitar but not his talent. My father’s karaoke routine.

Richard

reading his lyrics: “rain rain go away come back for mama’s washing day.”
James learning basic plumbing and stopping flushing fishes (down the loo). Deborah singing about Bedlam’s bonny boys, Julianne: “we play foreign films on my breasts”.

Marianna

’s tender lovers. Georgina matching T.S. Eliot’s Wasteland with the Wasteland Limericks by Wendy Cope.

Leander
is back with a new song and a couple of concerts this weekend.It’s all folks. I wish you a great 2012. (On Mondays at least.)

Report from SpokenWord 19th Dec

2012-01-03T11:47:00.000-08:00

by David.

All my photos show an incandescently smiling Alexa. All my photos are also incredibly bad, so please bring a camera on Monday and replace me as SpokenWord photographer. Now some words I think I heard spoken that faraway long ago night in December - a most marvellous night it was too, we agreed. And it's a bit late to tell you now but you were all invited to Alberto's mum's for Christmas.

What's it like to have a Jewish grandmother? Well

You're too thin until you're too fat

Suturing sunflowers with a lullaby

Locomotive ghosts and grandad's Alzheimer's

Is it politically correct to even be here?

The Hell with it, I'm horny

for a round woman with gnarled toes

with the blues on tap

rivers and other beds gone dry

waiting to snowball cats

at the margin of the carol-singing sea

My name means mutual orgasm

also Christmas in high heels

(breathing beyond the bondage of boys' clothing)

a family of dragons, once upon a time in China

Confront your monster

Tonight the prince will follow bloody footprints to my bedchamber

Next SpokenWord: 9th Jan Au Chat Noir, 76 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 75011
Sign up in the bar from 8pm, poetry downstairs from 9pm. (All times are Italian.)

Cheers,
David

Spoken Word Istanbul

2011-12-31T03:04:00.000-08:00

9 January 20:30 at Tiyatro Kahve, Beyoglu, Istanbul

SpokenWord Paris is proud to announce that Merve Pehlivan is launching the first SW Istanbul on the 9th of January. The poster is in Turkish but all languages are welcome. Merve was a long time member of the Other Writers' Group and Spoken Word Paris while she was here in France.

Kelimelerinizidefterlerden, müsveddelerden çıkarmak, onlara ses olmak için...

ŞimdiSpoken Word İstanbul bizi dinlemek için var!

SPOKEN WORD

İSTANBUL

9 Ocak Pazartesi 20:30

Oyuncular Tiyatro Kahve

İstiklalcaddesi Rumeli Han Kat:2

Beyoğlu,34421 Istanbul, Türkiye

Bu sahne sizin! Öykülerinizi,anılarınızı, yaşadıklarınızı, şiirlerinizi, şarkılarınızı paylaşmak,kelimelerinizi duyurmak için artık Spoken Word İstanbul var! Her dilde, herusulde kendinizi ifade etmeniz için! (Başvurularınızve danışma için Merve Pehlivan: 0533 669 46 46)

Éditions du Chemin interview

2011-12-30T03:35:00.001-08:00

Chantal of Éditions du Chemin interviewed me about SpokenWord, the Paris writing sceen, Strangers in Paris, etc.

Read the interview

2011-12-20T13:25:00.000-08:00

Next Other Writers' Group
~ Saturday 7th January 5pm Shakespeare & Co.
Next SpokenWord
~ Monday 9th January Au Chat Noir

Spoken Word Paris 12.12.2011 Report

2011-12-18T13:10:00.000-08:00

By Alberto
Mandoline Song Of Victory, Marie Song of Draw, Anthony: “I want to leave the City”, Jason reading for his personal pleasure leftovers from his old website something about bleeding tomatoes (as an Italian I’m moved). Kate reads four short poems, James told the tragic Story of a Butcher called Jean Marie “qui avait the best meat of Paris”, Eva singing a sad song called “Too much talking is good for a blind.” Alberto dedicated this monologue to last saturday night fighters. Griffin, for Griffin I mean this guy

performed a poem called “the third box” referring to Plato’s (Aristophane’s) sex myth.
In Round II the first is Claire. That's how I found out another fellow spokenworder won the Troubadour’s third prize even in 2010, her name is Claire Gheerardyn with her poem “Nest”. Troy Yorke, our Personal Jesus: “My hoven was hot and I was a witch”. Matt: you wake up in the morning and your head is on fire.
Amelia Parenteau:

Drift back to the beach,
Me, pot bellied and princessing,
You taught me to float,
And I haven't sunk since.

Pablo singing: Les Anges de Paris. Patrick gurgling waves like a saxophone altissimo.
and Lucy from:

Full Body Blush
(or)
Warning, Lucy Gellman is Supernovaing in the Grad Study Center

I leave black holes where I walk. The hallways of Paris IV breathe
with them, and the dixièmes cobblestone streets, and this bright bright city,
the only thing we share in the night.

What galaxies you hold in your hands, I told him once.
How much light you have trapped inside of me.

Chantal: “On dit que cette musique c’est votre nome, Sokol asking Proust for a sip of strenght.

And finally Kelly: “My apologies”. Please forgive her, folks. Last Spoken Word b4 Xmas holidays will be Monday, December 19 Au Chat Noir. See you there.

Last SpokenWord of 2011

2011-12-16T07:19:00.000-08:00

Monday 19th December, Au Chat Noir
76 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud
Metro Parmentier/Couronnes
Sign up in the bar from 8pm
Underground poetry from 9pm

Sad news: Death of George Whitman

2011-12-14T16:00:00.000-08:00

Just read that George Whitman of Shakespeare & Co has died.

Without George, alternately infuriating and a sheer delight, and his crazy-wonderful bookshop, there would be no SpokenWord Paris, no Other Writers' Group, no issue.ZERO and no Strangers in Paris. And so much else. How many of us would even have stayed in Paris? Not me.

David

SPOKENWORD Report from 5th Dec

2011-12-11T14:35:00.001-08:00

by David
This was the launch of issue.ZERO's Winter 2011-2012 number and it was packed. The photo is actually before it got really packed! Sold a lot of issue.ZEROs and we're now well on the way towards making back the printing costs. Click on the link above for details of how to get hold of a copy for 10 euros. Or come to the last SpokenWords of 2011 - Monday Dec 12th & 19th - and get one from us - Au Chat Noir, 76 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 75011 Metro Parmentier/Couronnes. Sign up in the bar form 8pm, poetry starts 9pm.

On to a kaleidoscopic condensed poem of a report of words spoken and sung:

The waves brought a handful of fists
An alligator
The sudden pop of kneecap to neck bone
A foot like hailstones
There's always someone in the family who takes the jibes
I'm so mean I make medicine sick
He looks bad enough to get shot
Smells of tar
Is hard at the seams
Made of peacock feathers
While syringes kiss
And I melt like a marshmallow sticky on a campfire
Everyone had a cigarette and cocktail that night
Even the children
As Fermat's Last Theorem stripped off in Hollywood
Searching for harlequin who rode in on blue flames
Thick with memory and flesh
Tongue sulphur-thick
C'mon Mister - Get your jabberwocky out!

Hélène improvising

Tanti Baci & Casimir at the link last night

2011-12-11T04:01:00.001-08:00

Saturday 10th Dec - the link's 2nd event

2011-12-06T05:22:00.001-08:00

for information go here

issue.ZERO launch SpokenWord Monday Dec 5

2011-12-02T12:05:00.001-08:00

issue.ZERO the upstart lit mag from Paris

grown out of SpokenWord & The Other Writers' Group

launches no.-1 at SpokenWord on Monday 5th December

at the Chat Noir

Au Chat Noir

76 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud

Métro Parmentier/Couronnes

8pm sign up in the bar

9pm the first round starts

Mailing list change

2011-11-29T13:31:00.001-08:00

I'm killing the old mailing list (that works through meetup).

To sign up to the new one go here, enter your email address and click SUBSCRIBE.

Spoken Word Report 21.11.2011

2011-11-27T07:22:00.000-08:00

Crowd.

Willkommen, Bienvenue, Welcome to Spoken Word Paris. Thanks Troy. Mandoline opens, Jo plays the piano this time, James Navè having light issues (that’s my fault). David reading Pity le pauvre parisien: Who d’you think you are, Johnny Halliday?

Patrick.

Griffin’s got boyscouts in expedition between his legs. Come taste the poet. Em Johnstone with “Men are from mars, and girls are from Venus” and “Beautiful Pollution”. Listen to this one in a more domestic atmosphere. Lucy G. about traumatic sex, Brandon “eat me, drink me .....and Calvin Kline”, Kate operating necessary surgery. James “In high definition across the street, she pretended not to look”. Troy took this song called Festival from Sigur Ros, screwed the islandic and the gibberish syllables, rewrote a poem, sat down at piano and sang it. Holy Guacamole!!! Whadda xxxx is gibberish? A famous poem in gibberish is Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll. Please Johnny Depp, can you read it for us?

Troy.

A new Chris Newens production, I just remember one line, ehm two words: “Faboulous breasts”. Jason Marcos: dry salt and many tears”. Felicia: two poems for the same person, some sappy shit (those are her words not mine), Megan Fernandes, the poetry editor of Strangers in Paris, is back in town “dating the taxodermist.” Check out her books and blog. Alberto’s for Megan panegyrical remix “Phenomenal Womegan”. Georginas backstabbing and opening secret files from Alberto’s sketchbook, secret dialogues during a lectures on “Dante and the conception of authority in the middle ages.” (“enormous huge gigantic boobs)” Sara and Anne “J’ai eu une enfance dificile”: Maxim slightly misunderstood the meaning of featured reader, so Miss Peacock and Amelia read when we were already overtime, but we made it! See you next monday here in Rue Jean Pierre Timbaud, down in the basement au Chat Noir!
Alberto

Next SpokenWord: Monday 28th Nov at Le Chat Noir

2011-11-23T13:44:00.001-08:00

Host: David

Place: Le Chat Noir, 76 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 75011

Métro Parmentier/Couronnes/Oberkampf

Poetry begins 9pm... underground

Report from Spoken Word Paris 14 . 11 . 2011

2011-11-15T13:48:00.000-08:00

By Alberto.

We are changing venue every monday. Tonight we are downstairs au Chat Noir. We’ve been there before but was faraway more violent. I have a deja vu, let’s see how it was: when Writers get Violent. This time was less brutal but not less emotional. Kate Noakes opens it with her Ophelia. Lucy A bought a conditioner for dirty hair. Stay tuned she’s got a show on December 9 and 10. Further details coming soon on this website. Bethany: Fuck connotations, I have no pussy. James Navè started writing in hospital: Where the balls go. Then for the first time on our stage, James Simpson with a poem called “My journey on line 4”.
Second Stanza:

From porte d'orleans to porte de clignacourt
Central & straight goes good old line 4.
"But its better than london" I hear you say
"And you get phone signal to text & play"
A carriageful of people shouting down their phone
Angry & annoyed that they'll be late home
No I prefer the british way of suffering in silence
And thats what im doing but im sensing violence
Especially now that an accordian has started
And someone around me has definitely farted.

Check out his weekly radio show.
Amber didn’t want to read poetry: “’ cause my mum is a poet and I’ve got issues.” So she told a story that could be entitled: “I thought suppository was a french thing.” Naser’s Sufi: “As I bathe in the eternal sunrise... I shower my mind with the lucid teardrops of time.” Alberto’s afternoon on roftoops. “I walk on rooftops to watch the others and avoid meeting them.” Felicia: Is there a first stage? Death. Light Leaks were smoking (what?) before playing. Their new LP is almost ready.Mandoline in french: “...tu me meteorite, tu me fragilize, tu me....” Jo. More Jo . Jason. More Jason. Lucile, Troy wants just tenderness with a belt, and then you’ll remember him when you’re hit by a car, Jasmine E. Way hasn’t written anything in 8 years, Georgina ...oopps I was upstairs ordering a Gin Tonic, Lucy G: There is a song for the dead children. Kelly’s Very cold friday. The Maxx: Byron on Speed: “I have Jesus in my veins” plus two excerpts from his favourite author Malcolm Lowry, one was Delirium in Veracruz.

DELIRIUM IN VERA CRUZ (by Malcolm Lowry)

Where has the tenderness gone, he asked the mirror
Of the Biltmore Hotel, cuarto 216. Alas,
Can its reflection lean against the glass
Too, wondering where I have gone, into what horror?
Is that it staring at me now with terror
Behind your frail, tilted barrier? Tenderness
Was here, in this very retreat, in this
Place, its form seen, cries heard by you. What error
Is here? Am I that forked rashed image?
Is this the ghost of love which you reflected?
Now with a background of tequila, stubs, dirty collars,
Sodium perborate, and a scrawled page
To the dead, telephone disconnected?
... He smashed all the glass in the room. (Bill: $50)

James. I loved his song, but he disappeared before I could ask him about it. And the ex-virgin, nowadays whore Naser closed la soirèe. Good Stuff Guys! We loved the night, we loved the place, what do you think? Should we stay here every monday? Ok. Come back au Chat Noir, next Monday. Sign up 8ish. The show starts 9ish! On the italian biological clock.

Report from SPOKENWORD 7.11.11

2011-11-13T04:54:00.001-08:00

...featuring Emma McGordon, Lucy Hopkins, Benji, Sandeep, Leemore and many others.

Pity les pauvres Parisian men with gold teeth,
fight off your father's idea of a cuddle,
search for your reflection in a bucket of silky oil,
your heart punctured.
If you'd known me,
we could have been great friends.
But now I have to roast you and kill you.
Rise arborescent, my carnivore plant.
Berdache boy -
he throws like a girl but he fucks like a man,
and he won't tell me what you took from him.
Dance, waiting for the metro,
with looks like the crack of a whip,
to piano sonata number two in B flat minor.
Every year, make a little piece of Tuscany disappear,
coax deformations from jagged rock.
Take a deep sea dive down the toilet.
Be witched,
be bothered
and be wildered.
Sing golf songs.
Boys, don't you dream of princesses rescuing you?

Ah, la tristesse...

SPOKENWORD 14th November

2011-11-08T11:45:00.000-08:00

Host: Alberto

Place: Le Chat Noir, 76 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 75011

Métro Parmentier/Couronnes/Oberkampf

Poetry begins 9pm... underground

Halloween SpokenWord

2011-11-07T00:51:00.000-08:00

David, photo (c) Jean-Alain Le Borgne

Halloween began with B's scary whispering Nevermorrrrrrrre, Poe's The Raven. Me reading my translation of Poison (or possibly, The Fish) by Baudelaire. Georgina's Little Red Riding Hood chomping on her grandmother's thigh, while the woodcutter throbbed with the smell of sweat, salt and hair.

Patrick

Kate washed down a piece of Mrs Haversham's wedding cake with the best espresso in the world. Patrick slouched out of Babylon, his hour come round at last. Sandeep practised interpretive dancing before the cafes of Paris. And a fridge-cold fish stared at Lucille, rolling down the hill.

Lucile, photo (c) Jean-Alain Le Borgne

Marie Baby combines Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf in one.

Alberto: While I was killing you, I was saying I love you.

Camille selling a little girl's soul.

Gabriel was buried at night. Or possibly in night. Max practised alchemy, changing unrequited love into that which is desired. He reiterated the act of love, but found propinquity is not fusion. Jason pretended to be Italian. Ryan's Satan lives in Prague, drowned within a sanguine flood - but is it wine... or blood?

Troy: festering feet from the old country

Bruce was Black Pelvis, brought us the liar who says sleep will come easily and a girl who smells of bacon fat. James gave us 'Bicycle, my Bicycle.' Margot and Tamara shook dreams from our hair.

Next SpokenWord: Tonight at Le Ballon Vert
Sign up from 8pm, first round starts 9pm
Thanks to Julianne Sibiski and Jean-Alain Le Borgne for the photos.

Pity le pauvre Parisian

2011-11-01T03:40:00.000-07:00

Sens d’humour excisedat birth

but schooled in ridicule.

Langage distortingthe mouth.

Monkeys with Mick Jagger lips

condemned to a permanent pout.

With their enunciated phrases from Molière,

their aristocratic scowls.

- Who d’you thinkyou are, Johnny Halliday?

Consider thecurse of le pauvre Parisian

Thinkingthemselves thinner at the café philo

or dodgingdogshit in the place du Cliché.

Watch as theyset their sharp shoulders

and walk directlyinto opponent pedestrians.

They disdainapologies as the mark of fools

- Ha! These collisions are not accidents!

Paris! A museum of steam-blasted ghosts.

Suspicious,defending their corners.

Pour le vrai Parisian every joke is mockery

and behindtheir code of kisses

they languish,

conjugated bytheir own contempt.

- Ah, tourist! Stranger! Peasant lostin the big city!

What if you should contract theirdisease?

by David Barnes

Hallowe'en SpokenWord at Le Ballon Vert

2011-10-29T07:13:00.000-07:00

Finally we'll be at Patrick's Le Ballon Vert

It's a real Irish pub and a fun place to party!

33 rue de Montreuil

75011

Metro Faidherbe-Chaligny (line 8)

Thier facebook (with directions, map) http://www.facebook.com/pages/Patricks-Le-Ballon-Vert/129986870359524?sk=info

Usual times: sign up from 8pm, first round starting 9pm

This is a special Hallowe'en SpokenWord

and you're invited to dress up and/or bring scary poems, songs, stories/on a Hallowe'en theme... though all poems, songs, stories and non-dressed up people are still welcome.

Cheers,

David

Spoken Word Paris Report 24/10/2011

2011-10-24T16:46:00.000-07:00

By Alberto.
B like Bukowsky, bothered by me repairing a sink, David: The Corporate Goldfish and the 7 rules for living. Chris: All those mushy things between amphibians. Carolyn: Naked in Hotel de Ville. Marie: Bondage Darling Mistake. If you want listen to her for a whole week, here you’ll find one song a day. Lucile: We are living dead. Troy: I’m squishing flies between my fingers, you are a terrible fuck. Camille: Out of my bush, home-made socks, the angel is lost, for all who consume home made socks. And we didn’t have our happy report by Trelys, it was a terrible shock, everyone immediately felt sad, and negative and cinic, almost Parisian. We had to do something. What?

Round Two. Beth Jervis / Miss Peacock reading from Revolutionary Poetry for Individuals in Capitalism, buy it here.
Patrick: Plum Prize, Dice are Cast. Lucy: Troy gets me into missionary position. Alberto: We can float like an oarless boat. Jason: not do do do do but pa pa pa pisser sur la pipe du pap pa pa pas. Chris Newens starring Georgina: Boning yours social inferiors on a night bus at Lambeth North. Alex: It’s later than you think. We made it. We can’t live without it anymore: Collective Dramatic Happy Weekly Report: Matilde Happy Monday, Molly Happy Tuesday, Alex Bad Tuesday, Lucy Happy Wednesday, Jason Happy Thursday, Patrick Sad Then Happy Friday, Ashley Happy Saturday. But where is Trelys?
Remember: Next Monday Spoken Word Halloween Special! Dress Up and Read (And Party!)
Where? We’ll keep you posted!

The Happy Report

Beth aka Miss Peacock

SpokenWord Report 17.10.2011

2011-10-24T10:10:00.000-07:00

A second fine evening at the Dallery. Jamie erased dead-eyed cyclists at his discount funeral service. Alberto was back from the UK where he colected a prize for a translation of a Llorca poem into English. Carolyn saw the afternoon spilling all its clear light over the threshold, saw motorcycles used against the crowd in Iran till the crowd pulled them down, asked When will my heart stop?

Me & Jason read Neruda's Puedo escribir los versos... (Tonight I can write...) in Spanish & English. Jason was in the underground city. Southbound on the line 5 is the best place to commit suicide. James (we have about 4 Jameses right now) totalled his friend's car.

Georgina

Patrick said Should I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more dreary and more grey. Trèlys preyed she'll always feel kinship with other humans, no matter how many legs they have. Camille brought the revolution in finite time, cut that platinum card.

B (centre, photo above) followed the Easter Bunny, found a catbit - half cat, half rabbit.

Bruce: The Sequel

One of the most amazing things though this night was Moe's jazz poem with jazz dance by The Pillow Project Jazz Dance Company... really incredible. Chain gangs of song and memory. No photos though - pity - my camera can't do people moving. So check em out here: link

Lucy Gellman

Finally Max should've been a pair of ragged claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas. (TS Eliot of course, and for some reason makes me think of Halloween which is coming next week...) And I tried to terrorise Trèlys and the rest of the audience with my poem about poisoning people. It really worked well with the intimacy of this small bar. Til next time. :-) Or see you at Halloween? That's also on Spokenwordday. Or as it is also known, Monday.

Spoken Word LATE Report 10 Oct. (Sorry I was in London!)

2011-10-18T02:34:00.000-07:00

Routine makes the life comfortable and the humans weak and pavid. Finding ourselves suddenly homeless, put us a back to the essence of what is Spoken Word, not the wrap, but the content. Valiant spokenworders gathered in Bastille instead of Belleville, to demonstrate we can make poetry everywhere, and everyone seemed to to his best to prove it. David Barnes opened with a press conference about why we are here and a patriotic speech modeled on the famous “Carpe Diem” Georgina explained how all this started (the earth and the life as we know it, I mean), I told you was a very vigorous night, Kellyjoy went on stabbing like a butcher, Mari read “The Phoenix”, Gus played and sang a song dedicated to all the political springs around the world, Alexa was having an heart attack, I was having an heart attack, listening to her powerful poem entitled: “La Merde”:
“I must be sick cause I see shit everywhere, Je vois la merde partout!”
Shit taking the RER especially.
Patrick, read a poem with his band playing along:

“On a Railway Bridge in Cologne there hang Ten Thousand Locks.
Engraved tokens of Eternity, but they do not Eulogise,
the Monument they are attached to is one of Attachment:
Vivacious Exuberance of the Living Heart,
that hopeful Idealism that Reminds us we are not yet Lost.”

Carolyn wanting to be an insect, but not a cockroach, not a bee, not a fly, not a mosquito, not a bedbug. Marie playing acoustic but complaining she should have been playing electric! Trelys happy report ends up with somebody telling her: “Excuse moi Monsieur!”. Jo singing “This Life.” James offered the audience a multiple choice, becoming a demagogue. Gabriel is such a great rapper. Gus followed with “I’m gonna be number 1 in America”. Chris’s monologue: “Voyeurs”, encouraging you to watch youtube classics like “2 girls 1 cup”, “1 guy and 1 jar”. Camille inspired by the previous shit: “I met a man who shitted out of his side into a bag”, Jason do that when u do do not do do not do do do do what you do not what you, Mandoline recited by heart: “What do women want” by Kim Addonizio. Do you want to play it again? Dododoit!

Alberto has been in Andalusia translating Lorca “La Luna Asoma” or "The Moon Rises” winner of the competition Lorca In Translation. Ryan nailing Jesus on the Cross (I told you wa s a very vigorous night) indeed, Kelly, yeah, Kellyjoy’s final greeting card:
“I wish your balls would just explode.”
Spoken Word it’s every monday. Where? Stay tuned.

Announcement for SpokenWord on 17th October

2011-10-13T12:08:00.000-07:00

SpokenWord will be at the Dallery for a second time.

Le Dallery

6 passage Charles Dallery

75011

Métro Bastille/Ledru Rollin/Voltaire/Charonne

All times unchanged -

First round starts 9pm

Cheers,

David

SPOKENWORD at Le Dallery 10.10.2011

2011-10-13T12:06:00.000-07:00

So it was goodbye to the Cabaret Pop, hello the Dallery, run by Djill. Goodbye problems with heat, hello high ceiling and good lighting. Until we move into the Disquaires in December, SpokenWord is itinerent - and maybe all the better for it: it was refreshing to be in a new place with its different energy and possibilities, although the Dallery is too small to stay long - and too small to do theatre skits.

Streetview of the Dallery with Chris lit up by his cigarette in the centre

Do-do that Jason, centre. Surrounded.

The happy report, is brought to YOU!

Words to music

Café Philo

Guitar slingin''

The cat in the hat

Change of venue for 10th October

2011-10-07T12:20:00.000-07:00

Monday's SpokenWord will be at

Le Dallery

6 passage Charles Dallery

75011

Métro Bastille/Ledru Rollin/Voltaire/Charonne

All times unchanged -

First round starts 9pm

Cheers,

David

SpokenWord likes...

2011-10-02T23:36:00.000-07:00

Marie le Tigre & the Marvelous Anarcoleptic

A radioshow recorded live in ~~James'~~ Marie's living room.

SpokenWord Report 19 Sept

2011-09-25T03:37:00.000-07:00

An Incomplete Report by David.
Photos by Pearl Pirie, taken on 5th and 19th. I think.

James

I began, reading Shelley...

like the bright shade of some immortal dream
Which walks, when tempest sleeps, the wave of life's dark stream

then Theko sang a song in Russian and James laughed and wore yellow, saying "Gym bodies... are let down by the head." Happi recalled how, yesterday, he was only a trace, a tear in an ocean of melancholy. Lisa Pasold talked about dogs. Stuff green as poison. Olivier saw horses dancing. Pearl wants to buy a bottle of water. A fish school scattered. Jason McGinsey was featured reader and did COCA PARTY. He's a tragic optimist. Alberto called on us to bomb the oceans. (Sometimes when I look back at the notes I take to write this report I read the phrases I jotted down and have no memory whatever of what it was about. Bomb the oceans???)

Lisa Pasold

Troy hiccuped with ecstasy. Georgina told a goblin story. Troy & Suzanne were not necessarily in love. Gabriel hung between sensation and thought, emitting a baritone mating call. Alexa advised "Say no to nuns! The Lord has other plans for you." Chris and Ashley revealed how dentistry has twisted history in a dark and violent direction. Valerie detested the 17th arrondisement. Troy hissed like a venomous doughnut and Moe was a civilised man told to hold his tongue.

Trelys & Alberto

Finished with Hélène who works the bar and that was that.

SpokenWord will be every Monday from 3rd October. Sign up to read in the bar from 8pm, first round starts at 9pm.

More photos:

Dylan of Corrupt Press

Paul Lisson of Hamilton Arts and Letters magazine

Henrik

David

Pesbo

Troy & Suzanne

Troy

Valerie

Saturday 24th Sept a special event nr Gallieni metro on Paris' East edge

2011-09-20T00:55:00.001-07:00

the link a dit…

600 events in 450 cities and 95 countries will take place on September 24 to promote environmental, social, and political change. Poets, writers, artists will create, perform and demonstrate in their communities having decided their own specific area of focus for change within the framework of peace and sustainability.
the link is a creative performance space on the east edge of Paris where artisans of word, sound, visuals and movement come together in progressive artistic expression.
Immediately following September 24th all documentation on the 100TPC.org website will be preserved by Stanford University in California, which has recognized 100 Thousand Poets for Change as an historical event, as part of their digital archiving program LOCKSS.
Come out to the link on the East Edge and enjoy. Saturday September 24 from 7-10pm. Bring your words, others words, music, expression or your friends with the theme of Respect Responsibility Rock Steady. Open Mic, sign up at the door or register. Oh and BYO...
For further information or to register to read/perform: Camille on 0633968052 or B on 0143931771 or via:thelinkpariseastedge@gmail.com

SPOKEN WORD PARIS, September 5, 2011.

2011-09-17T04:55:00.000-07:00

By Alberto.

September 5. Summer is dying, agonizing, all right. C’est la rentrèe, we are reharsing for a great new season. Spoken Word is still twice a month, but don’t worry in October we are going to take it seriously and weekly. I’m glad to be back in Paris, and in Belleville. We had two (yes TWO) featured artists: Paul Lisson from Canada and Valentino Rossi (like The Doctor) from Italy. So, after Martino’s opening, Paul Lisson took us to the fabolous world of Hamilton Arts & Letters. Then he gave away pins. Apparently you can get some unemployement benefit with it, in Hamilton. Hamilton is in Canada. Just to know. You shuld think about your future, dude. Oarl Pirie reading from her chapbook. She is one of the featured authors for the Next Poets Live at Carr’s. Then Lisa, then Angel showing what the duende is, through an old andalusian song. Valerie, reading in french. Troy with a brand new stuff. James reading aphorisms by Kafka. Do you want one?

“A cage went in search of a bird.”

Not impressed? Do you want another one?

"It cannot be claimed that we are lacking in belief. The mere fact of our being alive is an inexhaustible font of belief.
The fact of our being alive a font of belief? But what else can we do but live?
It' in that 'what else' that the immense force of belief resides: it is the exclusion that gives it its form."

Marie playing, I was astonished, but I forgot which song. Trelys announced she’s setting up a play-reading series starting very soon, we are going to keep you posted. Check this website for more info.
And she had to cut off one of her weekly good news: Sorry, Spoken word is still twice a month. I repeat. We will be at Culture Rapide every monday starting from October 3.
Round two:
Erica Buettner. The new album “True love and water” is on sale. Listen to it, I give you a sample. David Barnes came on stage with many books under his arm. Moe’s reading Amiri Baraka, presenting 1OOTHOUSAND Poets for Change! Check it out! It’s Sunday September 24. 600 Events – 450 Cities – 95 Countries! Troy Yorke, pride and joy of his parents. The second featured performer was Valentino Rossi, aka Mariolino, remixing Sleeping beauty with his fellow Rigettini. More samples from his italian show: A new Chris Newens production featuring well known spokenworders, Henrick openly challenging his mentor The Maxx, who passed over our 5 minutes limit and was pinched in the genitals, Yasha remixing Elia Kazan and introducing her new squat in the XXeme. Christophe closed the night with this very sentence:
"I’m drunk but I believe in my poems”
Ok guys get warm for a new season. See you on monday 19!

2011-09-14T13:16:00.000-07:00

Call for projects for 2011/2012

2011-09-03T23:53:00.000-07:00

New Theatre, Movement, Film, Video and Mixed-Media Performances

New Voices, New Projects is a Paris-based platform for artists to exhibit and network innovative new projects that are already in development. We welcome submissions that are multicultural, multilingual and multimedia. We are looking to be struck by originality, creativity and talent.

Each month we will select one project to present to experts in the arts industry, as well as the broader international community. As a showcase of new talent, New Voices, New Projects exists to allow artists to present their work-in-progess and to receive critical feedback and exposure. Artists will not be paid for these performances under any circumstances, as New Voices, New Projects exists simply to support and nurture talent, in providing a platform and audience for new work, and is not a money-making venture.

Submissions

Proposals will be considered by a committee of professional experts within the arts and entertainment milieu. They will be judged according to:

a. Readiness for presentation (not necessarily in a finished state, but nonetheless in an advanced state of exploration and development; rehearsed and prepared, etc.)

b. Quality and innovation of the project

c. Technical requirements at the stage of the proposed project’s development

For more information, and to submit your projects, please contact newvoicesnewprojects@bilingualacting.com

Amy Werba, Producer

Chris Mack, Producer

Kirsten Foster, Associate Producer

2011-08-28T06:53:00.000-07:00

Info on Shakespeare & Company's website here.

1976

2011-08-27T05:56:00.000-07:00

by David

1976

snooker balls crack in the heat.

school afternoons Mrs Taylor has us lie down and sleep.

the sky is too bright.

it bleaches the chalky soil.

in the summer holidays we paddle in the brook

six feet below the field,

spot minnows & sticklebacks

- transparent slivers in the dazzle & shallows -

they shiver and dart

then anchor in the stream

hold still as page-markers

while you watch your serious children play

Spokenworder Xander Maksik's novel published

2011-08-20T10:22:00.000-07:00

Congratulations to long time Spokenworder and former Paris resident, Xander Maksik, whose novel was published this year. He was recently interviewed by World Literature Today about writing in Paris, an article well worth reading. He also contributed a piece to Strangers in Paris. His novel you can find on Amazon (US) or Amazon (Europe). Praise for his novel you can find here.

SPOKENWORD 8-8-2011

2011-08-20T02:36:00.000-07:00

Some highlights, by David.

Marius groped his sister. "Eliza," cried Colin, "ride me like a steed! Enfold me in your knees!" Amanda was at it too, despite being 84, she wanted to make love one more time. And she was transformed from marble to mozzarella.
James had an ode to CY O'Connor. He cycled from Perth to Melbourne. Sit in one space long enough and the Milky Way will come to you.
I read from and adapted from Nicke Greene's lines in Virginia Woolf's Orlando:

Oh young writers will turn out any trash that will sell...It confounds me to think that I have sold only 500 copies of my poem! (Though this of course is largely due to what can only be described as a conspiracy against me.) It hurts me to say it, for I love literature - as I love life - but the art of poetry is dead in England.

Alexa reported on cat life.
Grace approached the morning fridge. Saved nobody with her final gasp.

Lauren, New York-based singer, let the blues roll through Culture Rapide.

John McNulty went home with the waitress.
Moe & Anne Marie murmured in the night.
Maxx's children lie in silent spaces.
Bee never eats eggs alone.
Mike was dragged across the couch for 15 hours (or possibly the south, my handwriting was deteriorating as the night wore on...)
Pablo. Ah, Pablo, with his evil flowers.
REA corrupted the flesh. Will I ever find my mother, by and by, in the sky?
Miche Miche? A magician, lost on the metro.
Paul went howling through the bar like village fire.
Beth, lying closer to God (that sod).
Troy? Tenderness with a belt. A foolish heart on a rampage.

Camille did Motherology, in the name of her children.

Next SpokenWord this Monday, 22nd Aug from 8.30.

Sabotage review of Strangers

2011-08-12T07:11:00.000-07:00

link

Photos from the launch

2011-08-08T08:05:00.000-07:00

...of Strangers in Paris

taken by Calvin Chan.


David Barnes. Think I was explaining something or other.

Colin Mahar reads his "re-translations"

Suzanne Allen reads An Hour with Madame Sabatier

Sion Dayson reads The Idiopath

Helen Cusack O'Keeffe after reading The Ehrlich Remedy for Grief

David Fishel and Leemore Malka launch

2011-08-02T09:36:00.000-07:00

Strangers in Paris launch 25th July 6pm/9pm

2011-07-21T02:22:00.000-07:00

At 6pm we launch at Shakespeare & Company bookshop
(37 rue de la Bûcherie, 75005, Métro St Michel)

A sparkling taste of some of the distinct voices that make up the book.
Like literary champagne!
Just enough of each voice to tantalise and excite the palate.

With short readings from the book by Suzanne Allen, David Barnes, Marie Davis, Sion Dayson, Antonia Klimenko, Colin Joseph Wolfgang Mahar, Danielle McShine, Helen Cusack O'Keeffe and Sarah Riggs.

After, there'll be wine courtesy of Shakespeare & Co.

Link to Shakespeare & Co's page about the event

At 9pm the launch continues at SpokenWord
(at the bar Culture Rapide - 103 rue Julien Lacroix, 75020, Metro Belleville)

Featuring writers from Strangers integrated into the usual open mic.

facebook page for the launch: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=162557423817015

Spokenword likes... Claire Trevien

2011-07-13T02:10:00.000-07:00

The next Spokenword isn't till 25th July when we launch the anthology Strangers in Paris, so why not come to the Culture Rapide on Thursday to hear two great poets and catch the free blues jam afterwards...

SpokenWord 27-6-2011

2011-07-07T07:00:00.000-07:00


Denis blows the house down

Suzanna jazzed up a Shakespeare sonnet. Troy drowned in eager dreams, wanting somebody who crumbles, breaks, says sorry but slaps back. Julien took in flies like a whale takes in plankton. Later, he read a letter of complaint directed at his audience.


Julien Field

Kelly grave crazy advice while Harvey interpreted souls with Gilgamesh. Dheeraj's toothless princess rode her aunt's knee. Tous à cause de la secheresse, Ifeanyi a dit. But like a snap of the tongue, Alberto was water exploding on his own forehead while Maxx blotted out the names once carved into the great Cedar of Lebanon.
But for Matilde, summer in the city was long gone.

As Trèlys asked, Will there be not a trace left behind?

SpokenWord will be back to find out at 9pm Monday 11th July at the Culture Rapide.

Harvey/Hérvé

SpokenWord likes... Julian's new stand up comedy show

2011-07-01T07:35:00.000-07:00

//////

Every Wednesday at 9:30 PM (July and August) @ Theatre La Cible (62, rue Jean Baptiste Pigalle - Metro Pigalle)

Video teaser: http://vimeo.com/25081691

Spoken Word New York... the word is out.

2011-06-30T09:52:00.000-07:00

The only English-language open mic in New York City.

Poètes, écrivains, chanteurs—everyone gets five minutes to perform their chosen medium to a drunk and receptive audience. Based on the popular novel Spoken Word in Paris, curated by the inimitable brigands David Barnes and Alberto Rigettini.

Spoken Word New York

(Text by Patrick)

SPOKEN WORD 20/06/2011 Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday...

2011-06-27T05:41:00.000-07:00

Sepideh Soltaninia opened with her poem: “Alexandra”:
“This is the history century old bridges tell of a country who hides its bruises in reserves and downtown cores. Whose bridges serve as bars with 8 am calls, so next time my feet grace the surface of your new skin, show me sunsets and snowfalls, and I beg you, tell me nothing of my history.”

In this competition for the most mesmerizing name, the second contestant is Ifeany Awachi. Julian Field explained why “with an erection you can have a baby, but it’s better not to have an erection with a baby” introducing his new one man show:“My Personal Waterloo”, watch the teaser.
A ukulele new trio made up by Trelys, Marie and Ella, rocks the house with a ukulele classic: “Has anybody seen my girl?” A cynical girl, Lynne and a Bad Boy, John: “I want to be a sinner, but nobody takes me seriously.” A family girl, Hannah: “I’m not a mother or a wife, but I’m a sister and a daughter and an au pair for four french children and that means I know enough to write a poem.” A poem called “Four”.To forget Zach, Esmeralda launched her solo career “I’m allergic to you…” Trelys closed part one with a song called “Aloha”. “Aloha” in hawaiian means goodbye, hello, I love you, you’re cool: Hal, Adele, Zach, Ben, Lucy, Patrick.
Yes, our featured mispelled Weiner was Patrick Hipp, explicit, romantic and hot-hearted into the Gates Of Hell (I’m talking about Rodin’s museum).

Sam “after vomiting”, Mandoline in “morning conversation”, Emilie “run away” (from Louisiana), Harvey with a bilingual rap for his students in Jersey City, Marie and Antoine warming up for la Fete de la Musique, Alberto’s tango: “While I was killing you, I was telling you I love you.” Troy: “We prepare for a feast, what smelling feet we have sometimes”, The Maxx, LA Elen Cellier from French to English and back, Tyler: “So shame on you for dying, shame on me for everything else…” KellyJoy, Hannah and the unsugarable unforgettable Jenny Z’s: “Cum Farths”. Then our featured mispelled booner Patrick had his final act. The whole house singing along one more time (and probably even the day after):
“Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday, someday soon.”

But on the 16th refrain of “Please don’t go”, somebody said: “I’m going.”

Video of Mona Jean Cedar, featured reader on June 6, 2011

2011-06-22T04:14:00.000-07:00

SPOKENWORD 13-6-2011 The goodbyes begin... the ghosts arrive

2011-06-17T09:20:00.000-07:00

by David.
Photos by Adele.

Zach & Esmerelda

Nearly the end of the season. Though SpokenWord will continue through the summer, so many new friends who will be gone soon.
Sam brought roses, rewriting the script, raving & ranting, red petalled. Maxime was off to Lebanon, leaving a trail of coffee cups and laughs. Marie went to the wire with a Prince cover. Dheeraj still remembers how you gave him 3 toffees on your birthday when it was just one for everyone else: "Hate is an ugly business for a 9 year old."

Sam

Adele's ghost, without a smile, was no ghost at all. But Trelys says "Though they may be deaf to the key you're singing in, sing to them anyway." Julien tried to buy 30 squid of kunk, in Camden, from a guy's underwear.

Emmanuelle & Suzanne

Emmanuelle & Suzanne told what can happen when you study too much political sociology. "Encore un ejaculateur precoce!" Georgina fell asleep when she should pray. James got lost in a forest, walking with you under a bruised sky. Alberto too was in sombre mood - thinking of his body darkening and growing cold, of how his wriggling dick - that has till now been his ship's rudder - will be flacid in death. Patrick left the stage - and the bar - with the audience still singing his song. A reversal of the usual situation. Troy's God burped back the light and disappeared. Hal woke up to the city lights in his room, while Diana V offered a beer to a ghost - though not Adele's ghost.
Taylor and Danielle brought us a Vagina Monologue. John clouded up his life. But Antoine wrote facing terror, like the line in Howl about cowering in underwear in unshaven rooms to listen to the terror through the wall... Seiphi's poem about the capital of Bangladesh had maps of the city etched on the barefeet of children. Chris's writing ghosts (What is it with all these ghosts this week?) came to torment him, or at least mildly annoy him & advocate buying shares in Mongolian goats. I'm not sure I can read my handwriting here but I think that's what they did.

Patrick, Chris & Hal

Finally Tyler doesn't love us, but he likes us. He was lost in a cubicle maze, calling us on a bad connection. And Ashley organised a multi-author blind poem (Exiquisite Corpse?) to mark the week many of us are leaving FOREVER. Ok, not forever, hopefully you'll still come back and visit. And we'll always have facebook. "If I could climb you," she read, "I'd tie your tired lashes together so we had a place to be."

That's all folks!

Halitosis of the Soul

2011-06-15T13:06:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Laure for recording my poem here

Summer dates for SpokenWord

2011-06-15T04:26:00.000-07:00

We're running every Monday till the end of June.
Then July 11th and 25th. August 8th and 22nd.
i.e. every second Monday
The July 25th night will also be part of the launch for the Strangers in Paris anthology.

David
Photo by Laure

Sonnet XXIV by Georgina Emerson

2011-06-11T08:22:00.000-07:00

But, Alberto, I would have your baby
and I’ll fall into your manly-hairy arms
to embrace for the whole world to see
eyes dazzling at our mutual charms

And we’ll have the most convenient wedding
we’ll dance on groups squish them between our toes
avoid any awkward questions about the bedding
as in my belly our progeny grows

With some time we get girls on the side
off with my lace out off with your tax
it’s only when I invite your sister along for the ride
that we realize this situation sax

Oh Alberto! I have to say we’re a bit clichè
You, me and a baby is one fucked up three way.

SPOKEN WORD 2011-06-06 After Le Grand Slam

2011-06-11T06:54:00.000-07:00

Report by Alberto, this guy:

To see all of Adèle's amazing photos from the night click here.
After one week of Grand Slam, the World Champion is Quebecoise, the French Champion is Belgian, the National Team Champion is Nantes. The staff of Culture Rapide is exhausted but there’s another packedfullassbusting monday to face for Spoken Word. Mandoline is the first on stage, reading Ted Hughes. Check out her new workshop and writers retreat:

Suddenly Georgina comes out of the blue with a poem called Sonnet XXIV, in revenge of my jokes about her supposed pregnancy. For the explicit and embarrassing content of the poem I hid it behind this link.

Susana “Esperro” which we can translate with “I’m waiting” but losing the wordplay, J. Huxta, Diana Vaden representing University of California’s workshop in Paris, inviting everybody to their reading at Shakespeare and Company.

Sepidah: God is a man, Mother Nature is a woman. Isabella and Adele were Cindy and Melissa, so-called “friends” (by Isabella Brown) that’s how it ended up:

Melissa: People like her just bring me down. I have to make the break. I can’t have unhappy people around me.

Cindy: There’s nothing left to say. She told me to chill out, so I’m going to get a facial and manicure... and who needs friends like that anyway.

Our featured poet coming from L.A. for the Coupe du Monde du Slam, is Mona Jean, poet & dancer, performing her poems with sign language included.

Trelys Duprè’s weekly report waking up in bed with two beautiful young men we know, who are they?

Ten minutes break for rumours.

Part II. Sam: “…tears made my cheeks sticky”, Zachary and Esmeralda, they wrote the song this morning, From Georgia Li Geration and ∆◊O, improvisational poets, Hal gives up the short story he’s been working on for three years and plays a song. David with his famous “Halitosis of the soul”. Listen to the audio version here:

plus Edgar Allan Poe’s letters. Patrick’s tribute to Moe: “I wanna Jazz on your face”, right after is

Alberto going to a Sperm Bank “Back up, man!”. Tony robbing and rapping, just arrived from L.A and looking for a flat to stay, Julian was screaming I’ve heard him from outside.

Mona Jean also does Circuit Bending with her Husband, if you don’t know what is it, check out here:

French touch: Bastian and Antoine before spilling Peter Brown’s paint, a new Chris Newens’s production

starring Ashley, Hal, Ben and Patrick, Leelan, Andie, Troy, Tyler, (the last 4 were not in the play). Jenny Z. with her celebrated story about diarrhea (I remember she won a Shakespeare and Company competition with that)

http://www.jennybagel.com/

Also if you wanna see the dress she was wearing:

http://fashionforwriters.com/

For the first time on our stage Bee,

then a Jeremy’s story: “After 15 years of flirting, I winked”

And to remind us Culture Rapide haven’t won the Grand Slam National, neither individual nor for teams, but we are still the best: Bubu closed the night on francais.

Au revoir les gars, au lundi prochain. Bisoux.

SPOKEN WORD 2011-05-30 Hothousing poets

2011-06-03T08:54:00.000-07:00

Report by David.
To see all of Adèle's amazing photos from the night Click here.

Anyway, it was hot. Damn hot and busy, full of poets in the Culture Rapide, the week that Gil Scott Heron died (''A poet who took poetry back to the people.'' - Moe) So Deirdre Dore made a snow angel. Julian heard teenage voices that want his blood.

Corinne was the Champion of pigeons. Helen stole smiles, grinning in that sardine way only fish have. The ferrets danced. She kept her feet on the yellow brick road.
Suzanne gestured to the south and west across the water. Born in a blood-soaked hour, small bells sewn into her petticoats. Meghan dreamed in tea-coloured light. A donkey pissed, holding its genitals like a man. Diana V was blotting out the past for a man as black as cold hearted sin. Trelys brought the Happy Committee Report but Sylvian was in prison at St. Lazare. (Yes, I've felt like that when I have to catch a train there.)
Mona-Jean gave us a taste of her poetry with sign language. She's Featured Poet on 6th June. Lesley beguiled admirers with the singing strings, while for Diana R. it was time to be drunk in the shadows of iron, lips wet with poetry. Andrew bought his Raybans from the Devil. Troy had no words, no crumbs. Matt wandered through your body, having been lied to about sex. Hear Matt read "Orexis" here... Podcast hosted by Vlogosophy:

Podcast Powered By Podbean

Photos: Outisde, Sam, Leelan:

Bryan brought revolution in the kitchen. This revolution will be kinetic learning, every child will be ecstatic and the schools filled with what you will. Sunlight snuck through the cracks in Corey's teeth. Maria blurred. Alberto asked ''Who knows why humans kiss? No other species do.'' In the interests of accuracy Emmanuelle would like me to point out the monkeys kiss too. Lucy spoke of the origin of red and stealing books. Digby wandered in a wild and womb-like country. Sounds like a nice place to be.
Zach sang:

distances are closing in on me

If I don't lift a finger,

how dare you point yours at me?

He was paralysed by possibility.
Mika & friends sang us out at midnight...

RIP Gil Scott Heron. Next SpokenWord on Monday 6th June, we'll be taking names for the list from 8pm in the bar.
Photo: Closing in on Digby after his 5 minutes runs out..

Cheers,
David

SPOKEN WORD 2011-05-23 after the Rapture.

2011-05-29T07:43:00.000-07:00

Photo: poet overcome with emotion when Alberto refuses to allow him to read entire 200 page manuscript:

Report by Alberto

Photos by Adèle (lots more photos here)

Donc we are still here, on the planet, in Belleville. Survivors of the apocalypse gathered at Culture Rapide, as every Monday at 8PM. The next one (apocalypse I mean), according to Isaac Newton’s calculations upon the Book of Daniel, will be on 2060. Meanwhile Suzanne Allen kicks off, Lesley Wasserman:

“Unfortunately your penis fucks like a florescent light

seven espresso seconds

and sadly your marble lips smother mine…”

(I will add here some random photos including an interesting one of Julien and Arash and the grabber... - David)

Bryan (is in the kitchen) King, reads one poems by himself: “I'd like for you to be the dirt behind my ears…” and one by Richard Brautigan: The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster

When you take your pill

it's like a mine disaster.

I think of all the people

lost inside

you.

Andrei Ramirez visiting Jim Morrison’s grave: "Doomed to the Library of Sex, there are several poets nailed to the walls… and a few good writers chained together, singing songs…” Sidney, Cecilia Woloch (photo below) with a dirty poem after a period spent in the cleanest Switzerland, she’s running the Paris Poetry Workshop:

http://ceciliawoloch.com/

Diana Vaden, Claire about the rapture plus London Particular by Tamar Yoseloff, David Barnes: “My head says one thing, my heart another”, Khronos gave me this beautiful book: “Le Poète et le Tsar” by Khronos featuring Puskin:

SERGEI: Pourquoi ne parles-tu plus, mon ame?

LE NOUNOU: Parce que je t’ai perdu mon ange.

Danielle, Alexandra, Emily&Max, Kate introducing Upstairs at Duroc, James, Patrick Hipp to his ex-girlfriend (still a great source of inspiration), Alberto Rigettini in Fuckoffville, Moe Seager, Corey Arterian: "Everybody should masturbate", Marie singing a song I can’t remember, “On the Dancefloor” by Rihanna according to James (give him credits) or “Don’t stop the music” according to the academia, Hal reading his “The Scavengers”. Part III sees a funny, lonely and vicious Julian Field, D.W. reads from his forthcoming new book (and you will discover his real name):

http://www.curtisbrown.co.uk/d-w-wilson/once-you-break-a-knuckle/

(Note: I think that may have been him in the first photo on this post -- David.)

Helen’s french impro, Chris and friends (photo of Ashley and Chris below)...

...Antoine, Matilde playing Joni Mitchell’s “A Case Of You”, Leeland, Trelys’s report of a wonderful week and ukuleling happy birthday to Suzanne, Kate and Helen, Meghan “I’m not afraid of being afraid”, Nicolas, Zach, Georgina, Tyler’s “Story for George” (As he says: First person to read a sappy poem, a story about adolescent masturbation and have an emotional breakdown on the same stage in the same month). The Last is The Maxx with “From her eyes into horizon”. Ca suffit. See You next tomorrow.

Wed 18th May prose reading

2011-05-17T11:03:00.000-07:00

PAUSE ON THE LANDING, a reading series

Report from the SpokenWord of May 9th

2011-05-14T00:52:00.000-07:00

by Alberto

It’s May in Paris and apparently all around the world.

Benjamin Perriello told us the story of Bahram Gur, King of Persia and ruler of the world, as narrated by the poet Nizami long long long time ago (in the 12th century) (old school, man, nothing’s like the old school). Kyle plays this kind of songs:

http://www.myspace.com/kyleavallone

Suzanne Allen reads three poems: "Our Love is Like a Paradelle with Enjambment and Homonyms" , "Last Train", and the third, unnamed, but formerly known as "Impending Freedom."

Claire Trevien announcing her forthcoming translation poetry workshop:

http://poetrytranslationworkshop.eventbrite.com/

Moe Seager:

“Jazz is a Gypsy on a wagon stoop, strumming new found sounds in his finger tips,

Jazz does a duo with Mozart and Bach, a spoon in tune with Cafe Vienna,

and Jazz is a niche on a back-street in Paris, rendezvous lovers, loners and Poets.”

Khronos is Major Tom and Rimbaud, both lost in space, KellyJoy gives just “five minutes to taste me!” Gnam.

Round II: Benjamin Perriello’s the story of Bahram Gur part II, Taylor,

Anthony Allan Poe introducing Variètè Anglaise: http://varieteanglaise.blogspot.com/

Then Lucas Corcoran:

“All of a sudden there are no more secrets left

because now I know your bellybutton is an octagon

and somehow the only angles more acute

are the slight panics that still make each day a surprise

I think I would have loved you more if I had never met you

no matter now”

Patrick and his song for a girl, then James about a guy whose name I forgot,

Hal read “Party” his short story published on the current issue of Malahat Review:

http://malahatreview.ca/issues/current.html

Georgina’s “diving off your eyelashes”, then Alberto’s second attempt to explain in 5 minutes what the heck Aristothelian Ethic is about.

Round 3 - Amanda writes from the Quai: “this smell of pee is making me sick …these memories are splish-splashing in a bottle.” The Maxx went romantic with two love poems “the Kiss” and “Done”.

Welela met a guy in Chicago, sharing a taxi during a snowstorm, and the result is this poem from her book “Salt.” Read it and buy it if you like it, here you can even have a preview:

http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/1338518

Zachary: “There was blood everywhere” , Tyler, Fanny’s “Time will heal this restless heart of mine”, Jeremy’s “shit happens to me”: how he and big Ben fought the Hell’s Angels in Reno.

Moe’s now “I wanna make Jazz to you”, Loona and then I called Jeremy back on stage thinking his story wasn’t over, but I was wrong. Spoken Word was over, in accordance with our new Cinderella rule, as it was midnight.

Translation of Baudelaire's Le Poison

2011-05-12T05:09:00.000-07:00

... that I read on May 2nd's SpokenWord. Emmanuelle read the original in French and I read my own translation in English. Both texts below. It was a lot of fun playing with different words and phrasing.

Wine decks the most sordid shack

In gaudy luxury,

Conjures more than one fabulous portal

In the gold of its red vapour,

Like a sun setting in a nebulous sky

That which has no limits, with opium is yet more vast,

It reels out the infinite longer still,

Sinks depths of time and sensual delight.

Opium pours in doleful pleasures

That fill the soul beyond its capacity

So much for all that, it is not worth the poison

Contained in your eyes, your green eyes,

They are lakes where my soul shivers and sees itself overturned.

My dreams crowd in

To quench these bitter gulfs

So much for all that, it cannot surpass the terrible wonder

Of your saliva that bites,

It plunges my remorseless soul into oblivion

And rolls in like waves of vertigo,

Faltering, on the shores of death

Le Poison by Baudelaire

Le vin sait revêtir le plus sordide bouge
D'un luxe miraculeux,
Et fait surgir plus d'un portique fabuleux
Dans l'or de sa vapeur rouge,
Comme un soleil couchant dans un ciel nébuleux.

L'opium agrandit ce qui n'a pas de bornes,
Allonge l'illimité,
Approfondit le temps, creuse la volupté,
Et de plaisirs noirs et mornes
Remplit l'âme au delà de sa capacité.

Tout cela ne vaut pas le poison qui découle
De tes yeux, de tes yeux verts,
Lacs où mon âme tremble et se voit à l'envers...
Mes songes viennent en foule
Pour se désaltérer à ces gouffres amers.

Tout cela ne vaut pas le terrible prodige
De ta salive qui mord,
Qui plonge dans l'oubli mon âme sans remords,
Et charriant le vertige,
La roule défaillante aux rives de la mort!

Report from 2nd May

2011-05-08T14:06:00.000-07:00

Began with some bluesy guitar from Stedy. Sam came through the factory gates with darkness in his eyes. James from Bucksnort, Tennessee: Have you heard? They got Obama! Trelys Du Prè (photo) knows that you are the perfect you. No one else can be you better!

Adèle's characters looked up from the pages saying ''Give us life, give us life!'' Roxy Azari was our featured poet:

An Iranian American slam-winning poet from NYC, with electrifying passion, on a kind of slam workshop world tour.

Julien Field told of drinking in the Zorba with a decidedly insalubrious entourage, as somebody sprinted away into the night with his backpack. Troy was trying to trap the hunter to the sound of frogs barking. James spoke of sulphurous release where they fashion death in jackets. Chris, Georgina, Hal (pictured) and Patrick had Osama's compound ''mapped out down to the last ass-crack... and we knew it was gonna get hairy! Americans can do whatever we set our minds to.''

Georgina: When a squid ejaculates in your face it'll give you a lazy eye that won't ever get off the couch. Patrick sang ''Please don't go!'' as Hal delivered pizza in his mum's old mini van. Myself & Emmanuelle poisoned ourselves with Baudelaire. Marie and Antoine leaked light everywhere, drowning.

Tyler (pictured) told of his year long crush on a Mormon: ''Our bodies raged and we masturbated like it was religion.''

But as he said, ''All us boys do is piss white and feel tired.''

Suzanne teetered besides the canal. Growing older is no Swan lake! Alberto answered questions on Aristotle using a text he translated from ancient Greek. Zack and friend counselled ''Blow up your TV!'':
The night came to an end as Fanny's shoes filled up with stones. As Hannah noticed, ''everyone seems spun together by the end of the night.'' Troy raged against the dying of the light. ''But look,'' said Preeti, ''here come the fish people.''

More tomorrow night, Monday from 8pm (poetry starts at 8.30) with Alberto philosophising and acting as your host.

Cheers all,

David

Poets Live recordings of me (David Barnes), Nicolle Peyrafitte & William Strangmeyer

2011-05-04T14:00:00.000-07:00

Hear here. Recording from 12th April 2011.

Report from 25th April

2011-04-29T11:03:00.000-07:00

by Alberto.

Photos by Adèle.

Higher quality versions available here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/adelacorn/sets/72157626583463130/. To download go to actions, view all sizes

Sunburnt cheeks. Spoken Word’s monday after easter, nobody goes in holidays and everyone comes to the Culture Rapide, producing a particularly charming poetry night, celebrating our founder’s fortieth birthday. Marie Claire Calmus opened as d’habitude, followed by Elisabeth Devlin’s marvellous music, come and taste it if you don’t believe me:

http://www.allarerelative.com

Benjamin Perriello brought us back to the time when Croesus asked to Solon: “Who’s the happiest man alive?” “First Tellus, Second Kleobis and Third Biton. (Trivial Pursuit)

If you want another version of this legend look for Tolstoy’s short story "Croesus and Fate".

The program moves on with Jo, Troy, Trelys Duprè, Kyle Avallone. David Barnes turning 40, deciding to toast with “Let me die a youngman’s death” by Roger McGough. From that moment on, several SWorders answered to his plea, inviting him for shots.

Part II sees Welela’s opening, The Marvellous Duo Marie & James, Gabriel Gorman’s Bland:

“…because the hard it comes, the smarter my lung,

can push air out over my tongue,

and come to conclusions about the re-use of futile verbal music

played through every scene un-amused by abused emotive fusion,

it seems true that collusions with the muse become allusions to empty amusement,

but I refuse that solution on terms of self-improvement,

and so sometimes i feel bland.”

Claire on metro line 14, Patrick Hipp on acoustic guitar, the New Newens’s production starring Lady Ashley and Benjamin P., Hal, Zachary, Peter Brown trying to lay a student Down, and Moe Seager.

Round 3 welcomes Bubu, Roy, Georgina dedicating “Instantes” by Jorge Luis Borges to her 85 years old uncle and maybe to David Barnes:

“Por si no lo saben, de eso está hecha la vida,

sólo de momentos; no te pierdas el ahora.”

(If you don’t know, that’s what life is made of,

moments only, don’t miss this one, now.)

Just the time for Troy to stick his “Tender Buttfinger” in, then Tyler D. Magyar:

“The Seine was meant to have feet dangled over it,

so awake as most of the city’s fast asleep

and these sheets are meant to be tangled up inside,

while we’re awake and the neighbors dream.

These streets are meant to get lost within

And we are awake but they are so asleep

Beautiful agony, beautiful agony,

everything tastes of gold

I’m so awake and I need to sleep”

Hannah, Rigettini’s “Fuck the Panda if he doesn’t wanna fuck” and other enviromental issues, Betty with and without the Box, Suzanne Allen who read one poem for D.B.’s birthday, but not her new one (the bell tinkled), published by Nerve Cowboy (and not Texas Cowboy as someone wrongly said!)(But it is a Texas Literary Magazine!)(Shut up!) Kale Robin about cats, Moe again, and we closed with a lullaby by Zach. Later on David Barnes almost embodied his line 8: “May I be mown down at dawn by a red bright sports car on my way home from an allnight party” but he will be, as usual, under the top hat, next monday at Culture Rapide for a new episode of the saga. Ciao.

More photos...

2011-04-29T10:19:00.000-07:00

Report from 11th April

2011-04-25T04:16:00.001-07:00

by Alberto. Thanks to Adèle Giraud for the photos.

So many, so spoken, so what, so word:

Jennifer, Julien Field, Yara and Stefanos, Moe Seager, Peter Young,

Aarti Ramaswami’s poem about caffeine:

“You make my heart race / Give me sleepless nights

My skin is crawling / What’s happening to my face!

Didn’t mind you in small / Now you have the gall

To screw my mind / And make me insane

Caf and decaf / I loved you many ways

What do you care / You had me anyways.”

I agree Caffeine is a helluva drug!

Then Liz Childress performed “B” by Sarah Kay:

“This life will hit you hard, in the face, wait for you to get back up, and kick you in the stomach;

but getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.”

Here is the original version from TED:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e3cBk8Qn-Rk

Plus Ylva, and our featured poet Yazmin M. Watkins.

A sample of her poetry:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ya5M_AKM54M

Round II

Eric De Jesus was back, see the video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtsxFBWKUQw&feature=player_embedded

Also in Round II: Mimi, Gabriel, Hal Walling, Chris Newens Company, Lucas Corcoray from New York, Lady (Brett) Ashley, Mandoline, Alberto on Cherchi Palmieri’s music, Bruce, Peter Brown.

ROUND III

Yazmin’s part II featuring B.B. King, Kyle, Troy Yorke, Kronos, Moe, The Maxx, Bubu, Naushon, Georgina, Zachary, Simona, Susan, Julian, Bubu again, Bastian & Leander. The last metro was gone, forever.

Photos from 11th April

2011-04-18T07:04:00.001-07:00

Photos by Adèle Giraud; more here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/adelacorn/sets/72157626483407702/

Report & photos from 4th April

2011-04-11T00:54:00.000-07:00

Photos taken by myself & Maxx

Report

SpokenWord was a hot, sweaty cave in Paris. Look closely at the first photo and you can see Kyle standing before the door of the bar, about to go in. Patrick, the one facing the camera, with the cigarette, in the group of dodgy looking poets, later got a bucket of water thrown over him by the neighbours for singing after 1a.m.

Kyle takes the stage in the next photo. Two photos down you see Trélys DuPré reading her poetry and finally Benjamin recounting his true shark story.

(In the photos on the next post you can see Troy Yorke soaked in the jet fuel of a fly-by-night conundrum, Marie singing with sugar on her tongue, and Anthony (I hope it's Anthony) singing of the whores of Amsterdam.)

I took notes on what some of the poets said.

Maxx was at the vanishing point, spitting and struggling against suffocation (Joseph Brodksy). Hal got what we all want. Jo likes to let her electric toothbrush run wild all night. We saw Adèle Giraud as if far away in a burning land. Moe Seager is a conspirator stealing back his life.

Meanwhile Gabriel said he'd settle for ''her biscuit-shaped ears, her squinting eyes,'' but Emilie said she wasn't gonna be anybody's second best. Preston handed you a bouquet of yellow post-it notes.

Alberto revealed that Shakespeare's dark lady was a furry man. Maxx was looking for love in bad poems. Suzanne saw 2 flies fucking.

There was lots more, too much for me to name everybody. We started before 9 and it went on well after last metro time, with Beth taking over as ringmaster. Many thanks to all who read, sang and made up the audience, and especially Vlad and Hélène who work the bar.

À ce soir à 20h!

David Barnes

Photos from 4th April

2011-04-11T00:48:00.000-07:00

The bar, Troy Yorke, Marie and Anthony

Poets Live next Tuesday: David Barnes, Nicole Peyrafitte & William Walrond

2011-04-08T02:38:00.001-07:00

19h15

12th April

Bar Long Island

47 rue Washington

Metro George V (line 1)

Obviously, I'm looking forward to it as I'll be reading! ;-)

David Barnes

Dylan of Poets Live writes:

Nicole Peyrafitte is a performance artist born and raised in the French Pyrenees. She considers herself a Gasco-Rican (1/2 Gascon, 1/2 American) & citizen of Brooklyn. Peyrafitte pursues related multi-cultural and multi-media investigations that integrate her voice, texts, visuals and also cooking. She has two CDs out: The Bi-Continental Chowder /La Garbure Transcontinentale 2006 & Whisk! Don’t Churn! 2009. Visit her website for blog/videos and more: www.nicolepeyrafitte.com.

William Walrond Strangmeyer was born in Roanoke, Virginia, and grew up in Brooklyn, New York, and Brofus, New Jersey, where he went to Rutgers University, starting out as a classics major, changing to musicology and finishing with an abnormal psychology, all of which he declined to follow up or to practice. He has worked in many different fields of endeavor,
including amusement parks, banks, book stores, cinema, door-to-door sales, restaurants, retail sales, taxi driving, telephone sales, warehouses and as a tour guide and was also co-editor of Upstairs at Duroc, a literary review, blowing his chances at working-class hero status. A thirty-four-year resident of Paris, he now earns his living as an English language trainer and translator.
He is the author of several volumes of poetry (all slim), his other principal interests being various forms of boxing, bull fighting and old music. He is Archon of Paris for the Moorish Orthodox Church and a member of various other organizations embracing a few essential beliefs and having
even fewer doctrines. He has two young daughters and is thus in touch with the needs, desires and tendencies of today's teens and pre-teens.
He has read all over Paris over the years, including every year with the original incarnation of this series. His main influences are science fiction, doo-wop music and a mis-spent youth, along with the usual Eliot, Pound, Wallace Stevens, Poe, Catullus, Larkin, Elroy, Doctor Seuss, Beaudelaire and also Emmylou Harris, Roy Jones Jr., Leonard Cohen, Fedor Emilianenko, Bartok and Roy Orbison.
His motto this year is, “All dust is gold,” but sometimes he forgets.

David Barnes grew up in the Thames Valley in England in the 70s and 80s. He escaped to Manchester University where he successfully ignored any desire to write for 6 years. He started writing poetry as an adult in the mid 90s and started writing short stories a few years before settling in Paris in 2003, where he created and runs The Other Writers' Group at Shakespeare and Company and SpokenWord, a weekly open mic poetry series. He won Shakespeare
& Company's Travel in Words prize in 2006 with a short story and has published short stories in 34th Parallel Magazine and Spot Lit Magazine. He has a poem in the current issue of Upstairs at Duroc and edited Strangers in Paris: An Anthology of New Writing inspired by the City of Light, which will be out in the summer. He is also an editor with issue.ZERO magazine
which brought out an issue this winter. He currently divides his time between a Masters in psychotherapy, writing short stories and poetry and a day job teaching English and creative writing so that he has enough money to feed himself and his cat and do everything else.

Sample poems
There are sample poems linked from the bios of each poet at
http://poets-live.com/ .

I’ve posted recordings of the March 15th reading online at
http://poets-live.com/ under Recordings.

March 28 in Belleville

2011-04-04T06:34:00.000-07:00

Alberto writes...

Spoken Word starts early now, cause we are so many and so wild. As happened before, we open with Lady Marie Claire Calmus, an old school performer who sings french songs twice a month at Culture Rapide. Then Jennifer who’s French and performs for the first time in English:

“There 's no way to define death!

because when you reaaaaaally think about it

you might loose your own head”

Moe Seager, Emilie, sick of singing love songs, sang a song that called “this is a song about nothing at all”. Adèle for the first time on our stage:

"I have this memory

of the adult and the child

who have the same, wheat-field hair

He..

But I can't find the verb

Or anything in between

There's just the father and the child

with the same, wheat-field hair."

Trelys Duprè, Claire about Belleville:

“Art boils and is thrown into the gutter, oil spills rainbows around the island of a dropped glove”

And Erica, attention please: her first album True Love and Water is out now!

http://ericabuettner.bandcamp.com/

Part II:

Sue, Condor, Tramaine, Roy,

Alberto reminded the night in which publishers came in Culture Rapide…

http://tightropebooks.com/strangers-in-paris-new-writing-inspired-by-the-city-of-light/

The Maxx, The Newens: Ashley, Al and Maxim,

Beth, then Tyler

closing with:

“the innocent privilege in seeing you as midnight does,

your tiptoed march along the hard wood lingering

like the suspension of breath upon glass.”

Part III

Zach, Fanny, Georgina: how sms become a spoken word masterpiece,

Amy, Helen, Bubu, Hamed, Suzanne, Brittany, Guillermo,

Natasha explaining why russians killed Poland’s President and other little things.

Rufo, Moe, The Maxx. Goodnight.

Funny lonely vicious

2011-03-22T04:36:00.000-07:00

With SpokenWord at maximum capacity, 3 rounds of poetry/stories/songs/stand up and the Culture Rapide packed out... With the BBC and Lonely Planet writing about us... With Xander and Sophie and Naomi's books coming out... With the Strangers in Paris anthology that me and Mgean edited coming out this summer... With Alberto documenting the scene with his "Where will you bohemians be in 10 years?" project... it's clear that something is happening here, some critical mass of creativity that is snowballing...

And here is the latest addition to that scene:

▬▬▬▬▬▬ FUNNY, LONELY & VICIOUS ▬▬▬▬▬▬

The new weekly stand-up comedy night in English!

EVERY SUNDAY @ 8PM!

Launch night is this Sunday, the 27th of March.

With your host, JULIAN FIELD.

This is the launch night, so invite your friends!

FOOD! DRINKS! LAUGHS!

▬▬▬ This Week's Guest ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

◆ IVO GRAHAM

Young British comedy genius, winner of "So You Think You’re Funny" Award for 2009, and regular at the Edinburgh Comedy Festival.

▬▬▬ Practical Info ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

◆ STARTS AT 8PM SHARP! Come early to make sure to get a table.

◆ FREE! (We will ask for donations after the show)

◆ VENUE: Patrick's - Le Ballon Vert

33 rue de Montreuil, 75011 Paris

◆ METRO: Faidherbe-Chaligny

Patrick's has a wonderful menu, including it's famous hamburger!

MORE INFO / JULIAN FIELD'S SITE: www.imjulianfield.com

The new wave of Parisian literature

2011-03-21T03:12:00.000-07:00

BBC & Lonely Planet mention of the SpokenWord scene in Paris, with photo of SpokenWord at Culture Rapide.

http://www.bbc.com/travel/blog/20110303-the-new-wave-of-parisian-literature

Alberto's boxer monologue

2011-03-08T12:25:00.000-08:00

Dedicated to my boxers in Writers get Violent, who really beat the shit out of each other:

To you the boxers,

to whom the gong sounds always unexpectedly, to whom the stool slides out from under your ass, unexpectedly, like a fart. And you find yourself there, legs bent, facing this ring, a space that seems infinite and yet limited, metaphor of the human condition.

When you hear it, don’t ask yourself for whom the gong tolls, it tolls for thee.

Which means you.

YOU the winner

or precisely

you who will win JUST tonight,

this is a sport where it is better to put aside any Cartesian doubt, where the only certainty that counts is that of a big clout right on the nose. There is no point to wonder why. There is no point to pursue the search for truth, when the only truth that counts is that of the winners. That goes for war, sadly, and for the smallest type of conflict.

So, don’t think about it, just knock him down and enjoy the natural spectacle of seeing a boxer slowly fall backward, straight as a shaft, following the trajectory of a toppled oak, of hearing him crash to earth and the numerical tick-tocking of a grown child that has become a man,

but who still hasn’t stopped counting to ten

to give some meaning to this game.

To YOU the loser,

or is better to say you who’ll lose JUST this time,

when you’ll be there lying down,

your cheek stuck on the ground,

don’t ask yourself why YOU got it, YOU got it for everyone of us, the cowards,

your face got it for all these faces, your eyes saw it for all these eyes,

like a diamond that refracts everything around it into a thousand brilliant slivers and glares,

like a lake that is mirrored in every raindrop when it rains,

a limpid silvery lake that reflects every face, you absorbed every punch and every mirrored feeling, connected with those punches, we felt. You’ve been battered from our fears, sorrows, greed, wonder, like a human god listening to everyone’s prayer at the same time, you’ve been worn out by OUR emotion, you’ve been defeated by YOUR empathy.

When you gonna be here, laying down, don’t ask yourself if you are dead, you’re not dead.

You’re too alive.

Alberto Rigettini