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.
Open mic/scène ouverte: Performance poetry. Lire vivant. Poésie sonore. Stand up. Monologue. Stories. Beat poetry. Spoken word. English. Français. Your own original texts. Old texts from Rimbaud to Dr Seuss, Beowulf to Gil Scott-Heron. Chacun a son mot à dire. Make the words come alive.
Sat 28th Jan Other Writers' Group
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
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!
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.)
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
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
Sign up in the bar from 8pm, poetry downstairs from 9pm. (All times are Italian.)
Cheers,
David
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