Spoken Word Paris: The Journey... June 24th at The Highlander

Conrad's last night... Kayla read a "real short poem I wrote when I was 17"... Brett had fierce September hair, stood in the fireplace of classical guitars... Jen read from Candide, about a Paris all too recognisable... Yara was herself entirely... Joanna laughed with joys nothing here holds... Brenda was circled by Rimbaud's albatross and Neil had an NDE (near death experience) out on the rooves above Paris, keyless, having clumb out through a skylight only to hear the latch lock shut behind him... I was addicted to words.
And Conrad? His parting words were by way of counsell: Swallow the moon. Dance till you drop. Watch out for steak knives in the metro.

Click here to hear my own poems

I founded and run SpokenWord because it's fun. And sometimes transcendent. Because I love words and spoken poetry. Paris is a beautiful backwater where life is slower than New York or London, it gives breathing space, distance from the anglo metropoles that supports writing. & the English-speaking community here is just the right size to come together and do something, to provide a home/platform for, to nurture and be nourished by, our/your poetry, stories and songs. A space in which to create something fun, and sometimes sublime. - David

Spoken Word Paris

The Journey... June 24th at The Highlander

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