.
had to hold my tongue
like it was a mop and the laundry was flooding
keep tears out my eyes
like they were a promise not to break
and with airport luggage between us
I had to say goodbye to her
trying not to load those words
with more weight
than she could carry on.
_____________________
-Peace
.
Poetry without pretense. Occasionally with spell checking.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
'STRYA - January 26th
.
Yes - I am going to think you're a moron if I see you wrapped in an Australian flag
no - that doesn't mean I hate this country
or anyone in it
anyone at all
yes - I think this is a wonderful country
to live in
and no
I don't think it's at all ironic
to use the very freedom given to you
in a free and democratic society
just to point out it's many shortcomings
I think
that is actually the point of having freedom
and you're missing it
when you clothe yourself in symbols
Freedom belongs in this country
but not to this country
it came here
like everything and everyone came here
it is struggling here
Freedom is still trying to assimilate here
you can invade a place
to turn back every other boat
but you cannot own a land
that washes you away at a whim
you can wrap a flag around your flab
carve five stars on your back
but you can't claim sovereignty
over a sky
and - yes
I will think you a moron, if you try
_________________________________
Happy invasion day. I wasn't born here, I don't feel guilty for living here... I'm just a little embarrassed by some of my co-inhabitants, is all.
-Peace
.
Yes - I am going to think you're a moron if I see you wrapped in an Australian flag
no - that doesn't mean I hate this country
or anyone in it
anyone at all
yes - I think this is a wonderful country
to live in
and no
I don't think it's at all ironic
to use the very freedom given to you
in a free and democratic society
just to point out it's many shortcomings
I think
that is actually the point of having freedom
and you're missing it
when you clothe yourself in symbols
Freedom belongs in this country
but not to this country
it came here
like everything and everyone came here
it is struggling here
Freedom is still trying to assimilate here
you can invade a place
to turn back every other boat
but you cannot own a land
that washes you away at a whim
you can wrap a flag around your flab
carve five stars on your back
but you can't claim sovereignty
over a sky
and - yes
I will think you a moron, if you try
_________________________________
Happy invasion day. I wasn't born here, I don't feel guilty for living here... I'm just a little embarrassed by some of my co-inhabitants, is all.
-Peace
.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
'A Bullet Between the Eyes of Every Panda That Won't Screw to Save its Species' -20/01/2012
.
chomp at the bit off sentence
swallowing down the urge
to tell you- go fuck yourself
that seems so imperative now
knowing it may not seem so important
tomorrow
know this from experience
inside out a simmering stomach
a flexing jaw
clenched face knuckle dance
on an every-ready keypad
breathing a fire
that might burn me
back draft
once I calm down
so I hold back
from punching you in the opinion
planting my flag in your eye socket
to send you home so sorry
you ever dared fuck with me
stop short
shit eating the grin
of a bigger man
I've one man paraded down
enough years of my own wreckage
to know I couldn't continue
down that path
and you can
call it wisdom
or cowardice
call it patience
prudence
maturity maybe
not to mouth off
give as good as I get
say something I regret
but right now
you deserve big face-fulls of me
I think
and kinda just wish we'd met
when I still lived my rough edges
_____________________________________
-Peace
.
chomp at the bit off sentence
swallowing down the urge
to tell you- go fuck yourself
that seems so imperative now
knowing it may not seem so important
tomorrow
know this from experience
inside out a simmering stomach
a flexing jaw
clenched face knuckle dance
on an every-ready keypad
breathing a fire
that might burn me
back draft
once I calm down
so I hold back
from punching you in the opinion
planting my flag in your eye socket
to send you home so sorry
you ever dared fuck with me
stop short
shit eating the grin
of a bigger man
I've one man paraded down
enough years of my own wreckage
to know I couldn't continue
down that path
and you can
call it wisdom
or cowardice
call it patience
prudence
maturity maybe
not to mouth off
give as good as I get
say something I regret
but right now
you deserve big face-fulls of me
I think
and kinda just wish we'd met
when I still lived my rough edges
_____________________________________
-Peace
.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Randall Reads Erotic for Little Raven Publishing -19/01/2012
.
Recently I've fallen in with a mob called Little Raven, a Melbourne-based publisher of erotic short stories, novels, poems audio books and comics, who have been doing some great spoken word/storytelling gigs around town.
This week I'm their featured artist, with an audio recording of Except for 'Architecture in Helsinki' (text below) To listen to the recording click here
And check out the rest of their website, including recordings by other great authors here
________________________________________
Except For "Architecture In Helsinki"
with your cats watching us
with your glasses on
with one of my boots still on
with your shoes staying on
with the doors
remaining unlocked
when the next-press of the snooze button
could not be more than mere seconds away
when you are trying, so hard, to continue talking
(normally)
with your friend on the phone
when you're already half way out the car door
when I really do have so much work to get done tonight
when no other cars have pulled up next to us
at the lights
when we pass that big empty park
near my parents’ place
with
someone wondering where we got to
the belt buckle still getting in the way
my thumb sitting in your mouth
and some annoying indy music on
in the background
anything that is except
"Architecture in Helsinki"
'cause that could really kill
any adequate blood supply
where it may be needed
without any restraints on volume
without having ever made it past the lounge floor
without being sure
your friend in the next room over
is really asleep yet
without walls any more solid or substantial
than the thin excuses used
in getting us back here
far away from the many possibilities
for well-behaved cowardice
without me
failing to notice how suddenly you were looking
in another direction
when I was looking
in your direction
without you
getting away with that, one last time.
and with you now
busily making that obligatorily-offered cup of tea
or coffee
I was ostensibly invited in for
but that neither of us really
(really)
really wanted.
-Peace
.
Recently I've fallen in with a mob called Little Raven, a Melbourne-based publisher of erotic short stories, novels, poems audio books and comics, who have been doing some great spoken word/storytelling gigs around town.
This week I'm their featured artist, with an audio recording of Except for 'Architecture in Helsinki' (text below) To listen to the recording click here
And check out the rest of their website, including recordings by other great authors here
________________________________________
Except For "Architecture In Helsinki"
with your cats watching us
with your glasses on
with one of my boots still on
with your shoes staying on
with the doors
remaining unlocked
when the next-press of the snooze button
could not be more than mere seconds away
when you are trying, so hard, to continue talking
(normally)
with your friend on the phone
when you're already half way out the car door
when I really do have so much work to get done tonight
when no other cars have pulled up next to us
at the lights
when we pass that big empty park
near my parents’ place
with
someone wondering where we got to
the belt buckle still getting in the way
my thumb sitting in your mouth
and some annoying indy music on
in the background
anything that is except
"Architecture in Helsinki"
'cause that could really kill
any adequate blood supply
where it may be needed
without any restraints on volume
without having ever made it past the lounge floor
without being sure
your friend in the next room over
is really asleep yet
without walls any more solid or substantial
than the thin excuses used
in getting us back here
far away from the many possibilities
for well-behaved cowardice
without me
failing to notice how suddenly you were looking
in another direction
when I was looking
in your direction
without you
getting away with that, one last time.
and with you now
busily making that obligatorily-offered cup of tea
or coffee
I was ostensibly invited in for
but that neither of us really
(really)
really wanted.
-Peace
.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Messages -16/01/2012
.
Language;
the greatest thing we have achieved
in our mammalian two minutes to midnight
the very first
most diverse
yet highly refined technology
we possess
a medium to transform thought
into message
language
also stands us up knife-point
between hope and despair
showing us the best
and worst
of our species
though they speak different languages
when people want to understand
one another
they will, somehow
though also, somehow
should two people
not wish to listen to one another
even when sharing the same language
communication becomes impossible
we talk our ammunition out
at each other
accusations fire
from the barrel
of personal injustice
banners of our outrage
we speak our sides our teams
our rights to our things
talk the debts we are owed
and the damages done to us
I once broke another man's nose
with a balled up fist
but that bloody injury
is pale against the pain
knowing I've caused on others
with sounds out my mouth
for the troubles they took
in how they listened
we can make words hurt
and between us
we've talked barrels of ink
back and forth
said clouds against mountains
monologued on shared orgasm
accused our own deities
described minute to the infinite
we've spoken pointed fingers
into blunt instruments
I've seen the finger-jammed ears
of those mouthing questions
they'd rather not have answered back
and the fumbled friction
of two continents
trying to be an island
I have learned
how to make myself heard
and I have learned
how to say anything
occasionally though
when I can be quiet
I now hear the gaps
between us,
hear them just enough
to know that
I have not yet learned how to listen.
_______________________________
Need to say that the whole 'two languages/understood v not listening/understanding' concept from the third & fourth stanzas is a paraphrase of something James Cameron said on the Avatar blu-ray.
Though it probably beggars mentioning as 'borrowing' ideas is that man's specialty, so not going to lose sleep over that, and I've simply used it as a springboard to coalesce some stuff that's been rattling around my head these past few days, with enough originality to justify it.
Not to dis James Cameron either, huge fan.
-Peace
.
Language;
the greatest thing we have achieved
in our mammalian two minutes to midnight
the very first
most diverse
yet highly refined technology
we possess
a medium to transform thought
into message
language
also stands us up knife-point
between hope and despair
showing us the best
and worst
of our species
though they speak different languages
when people want to understand
one another
they will, somehow
though also, somehow
should two people
not wish to listen to one another
even when sharing the same language
communication becomes impossible
we talk our ammunition out
at each other
accusations fire
from the barrel
of personal injustice
banners of our outrage
we speak our sides our teams
our rights to our things
talk the debts we are owed
and the damages done to us
I once broke another man's nose
with a balled up fist
but that bloody injury
is pale against the pain
knowing I've caused on others
with sounds out my mouth
for the troubles they took
in how they listened
we can make words hurt
and between us
we've talked barrels of ink
back and forth
said clouds against mountains
monologued on shared orgasm
accused our own deities
described minute to the infinite
we've spoken pointed fingers
into blunt instruments
I've seen the finger-jammed ears
of those mouthing questions
they'd rather not have answered back
and the fumbled friction
of two continents
trying to be an island
I have learned
how to make myself heard
and I have learned
how to say anything
occasionally though
when I can be quiet
I now hear the gaps
between us,
hear them just enough
to know that
I have not yet learned how to listen.
_______________________________
Need to say that the whole 'two languages/understood v not listening/understanding' concept from the third & fourth stanzas is a paraphrase of something James Cameron said on the Avatar blu-ray.
Though it probably beggars mentioning as 'borrowing' ideas is that man's specialty, so not going to lose sleep over that, and I've simply used it as a springboard to coalesce some stuff that's been rattling around my head these past few days, with enough originality to justify it.
Not to dis James Cameron either, huge fan.
-Peace
.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Sweetalkers January 2012, THIS SUNDAY!!!
.
We're kicking off 2012 with yet another all star cast of spoken word artists, to make you laugh, break your heart, and raise the bar on their craft. Check it out:
CANDY ROYALLE
The Sydney poet who inspired our gig's very name, on her return to Melbourne we're pleased-as-punch to have Candy Royalle back at Sweetalkers to tell us how it is, and give us all the Royalle treatment. Check out her latest well produced video clip below:
Stories by Starlight
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here
MATTHEW JAMES
Formerly known as Mel Hughes, Matthew is a veteran of poetry tours and workshops in the US, and Matt's style is steeped in the American slam tradition, whilst somehow transcending it's formula with a unique voice, character and beautiful words.
Matthew is not only a survivor of New York City, but more impressively, Adelaide too, and will very soon be launching a book at Collected works.
AMY BODOSSIAN
Another Adelaide survivor, Amy Bodossian fuses music, poetry, props and frizzy hair into... well, something that defies definition in any conventional sense of the word, or unconventional sense either.
I know that doesn't make sense. Amy wouldn't be so sure. The best way I can think to describe her is: someone whose been driven crazy by being the last sane person left on Earth, now trying to explain why back to us. It gets intense, sexy, poignant, and really funny.
She's been on spics and specs and won a tonne of awards and is proabaly going to mad at me for not using more info from the bio I demanded she send me. Meanwhile have a squiz at this clip from her 2011 show Plegm Fatale:
You're the One
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here
EMBER FLAME
Ember Flame is a burlesque dancer and writer who fuses silky words and rhythms in her unique brand of poetry. Telling her tales through different characters, from a whistle-blowing fairytale princess to an office girl who finally gives in to her jungle rhythms, these modern ballads offer hope for transformation with lots of hot, heart-powered seduction. Part commentary, part confession, Ember strips to the soul, often revealing some of society's hidden parts along the way.
I saw her perform her first purely-spoken word set in Sydney on my last trip there and just melted. Like a candle. Seriously, I used to be taller before I met her. Sweetalkers is honoured, humbled and just simply -really fucking excited- to have Ember do the feature for us.
This is one gig you don't want to miss. Because I don't either I'll be on door, so as to just sit back and watch, so finally...
...working his way up through the cutthroat Sweetalkers ranks, starting humbly as feature to co-organiser to flyer-putter-up guy to door-bitch, now finally usurping me as MC for this month, will be poet laureate of planet Earth: STEVE SMART
Yep, January in Melbourne just got a lot hotter folks, we'll see you and you'll see us tomorrow at:
The Bendigo Hotel
125 Johnston Street
Collingwood
7.30pm
$10 entry, $5 burgers, $10 jugs (Collingwood Draught)
_________________________________
-Peace
.
We're kicking off 2012 with yet another all star cast of spoken word artists, to make you laugh, break your heart, and raise the bar on their craft. Check it out:
CANDY ROYALLE
The Sydney poet who inspired our gig's very name, on her return to Melbourne we're pleased-as-punch to have Candy Royalle back at Sweetalkers to tell us how it is, and give us all the Royalle treatment. Check out her latest well produced video clip below:
Stories by Starlight
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here
MATTHEW JAMES
Formerly known as Mel Hughes, Matthew is a veteran of poetry tours and workshops in the US, and Matt's style is steeped in the American slam tradition, whilst somehow transcending it's formula with a unique voice, character and beautiful words.
Matthew is not only a survivor of New York City, but more impressively, Adelaide too, and will very soon be launching a book at Collected works.
AMY BODOSSIAN
Another Adelaide survivor, Amy Bodossian fuses music, poetry, props and frizzy hair into... well, something that defies definition in any conventional sense of the word, or unconventional sense either.
I know that doesn't make sense. Amy wouldn't be so sure. The best way I can think to describe her is: someone whose been driven crazy by being the last sane person left on Earth, now trying to explain why back to us. It gets intense, sexy, poignant, and really funny.
She's been on spics and specs and won a tonne of awards and is proabaly going to mad at me for not using more info from the bio I demanded she send me. Meanwhile have a squiz at this clip from her 2011 show Plegm Fatale:
You're the One
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here
EMBER FLAME
Ember Flame is a burlesque dancer and writer who fuses silky words and rhythms in her unique brand of poetry. Telling her tales through different characters, from a whistle-blowing fairytale princess to an office girl who finally gives in to her jungle rhythms, these modern ballads offer hope for transformation with lots of hot, heart-powered seduction. Part commentary, part confession, Ember strips to the soul, often revealing some of society's hidden parts along the way.
I saw her perform her first purely-spoken word set in Sydney on my last trip there and just melted. Like a candle. Seriously, I used to be taller before I met her. Sweetalkers is honoured, humbled and just simply -really fucking excited- to have Ember do the feature for us.
This is one gig you don't want to miss. Because I don't either I'll be on door, so as to just sit back and watch, so finally...
...working his way up through the cutthroat Sweetalkers ranks, starting humbly as feature to co-organiser to flyer-putter-up guy to door-bitch, now finally usurping me as MC for this month, will be poet laureate of planet Earth: STEVE SMART
Yep, January in Melbourne just got a lot hotter folks, we'll see you and you'll see us tomorrow at:
The Bendigo Hotel
125 Johnston Street
Collingwood
7.30pm
$10 entry, $5 burgers, $10 jugs (Collingwood Draught)
_________________________________
-Peace
.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Black Book -09/01/2012
.
Thumbs through his black book
for crumbs
though it's not actually black
nor a book
or a list
of options very likely
it's a few too few to name
on speaking terms with
a three ring circus of
badly juggled balls
old tricks unfunny
and antiquated cruelty
that he's already called on
too many times before
it's a shortlisted transcript
of misanthropic entropy
spiraling reductionism
circling around a drain
of hands-in-his-pockets
obstinancy
and notated misogyny
it's hoping to think his way out of
a room with a phone that won't ring
a staring contest with a weekend
that won't blink
his black-book a band aid
covering the scrape of waking up
a daze into weeks
wondering
where did everybody go?
it's end result gestalt of
he doesn't-need-nobody
turning bodily on it's head
to where instead
nobody needs him
so he thumbs for crumbs
through that black book
though it's not actually black
nor a book
really just a blank space
where he got stuck
and now needs to turn a page.
______________________
-Peace
.
Thumbs through his black book
for crumbs
though it's not actually black
nor a book
or a list
of options very likely
it's a few too few to name
on speaking terms with
a three ring circus of
badly juggled balls
old tricks unfunny
and antiquated cruelty
that he's already called on
too many times before
it's a shortlisted transcript
of misanthropic entropy
spiraling reductionism
circling around a drain
of hands-in-his-pockets
obstinancy
and notated misogyny
it's hoping to think his way out of
a room with a phone that won't ring
a staring contest with a weekend
that won't blink
his black-book a band aid
covering the scrape of waking up
a daze into weeks
wondering
where did everybody go?
it's end result gestalt of
he doesn't-need-nobody
turning bodily on it's head
to where instead
nobody needs him
so he thumbs for crumbs
through that black book
though it's not actually black
nor a book
really just a blank space
where he got stuck
and now needs to turn a page.
______________________
-Peace
.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Got Here as Soon as I Could -2011
.
2011
I got here as soon as I could
high pointed-out of a plane
to jump fifteen thousand feet
then land on mine
this year found me valentine
stealing a cloud-top kiss
Mount Taranaki's weathered face
peaking out just to catch us
grinning 365 days of endorphins
into a road trip turned romance
stopped short
by a year
from any detours
from popping a collar
buying an iPhone
house-sitting a set-top box
or hemorrhaging any money
through holes they'll make in your wallet
to fit a petrol tank
still not buying into any of that
this year
found me staring down
sounds of a talked walk
writing burnmarks
on a hundred-more or more lonely nights
wrote when the blank screen
was a bleeding animal
or the empty stomach
out of an autopsy
when I've been dead-wrong
and fucken knew it
2011 hit me square like a stiff drink
into a dose of cold water
licking ice off the window frames
in my glass house with greener grass
than status updates ever dare say
this year
played me along like a laugh track
following from one joke to the next
and none of them I was in on
the comedy situational
my humour unintentional
the timing...
...predictable
when at last I realised
that you better accept yourself
before expecting anyone else to
so I accept myself
I got here as soon as I could
2011 was a pat on the back
reminder for the facts that
I am me
and I like being me
wouldn't want to be anyone else on Earth
least of all, say my old boss
Paul Bourke of The Salvation Army St Kilda Crisis Centre Health Services
poor Paul, every single day in 2011
you had to wake up being you~
not just the biggest arsehole working welfare
but the worst -thing- two people having sex
ever produced
while I climbed a cliff up in Borneo
you were stuck
an office desk up your arse for a spine
hiding behind tasteless shirts
and a tucked in hair cut
a protracted excuse for incompetence posing
as a position to fill
meanwhile
I got to be me
every day this year
like the ones where I went busking
with a bearded lady in the town I was born
or took a friend to see 2001 on a cinema screen
or took bike-rides down dead of night streets
or meditated silent in the Blue Mountains
I'm grateful for it all
for a year that brought my sister back
safe after the Christchurch quakes
that brought my old cat back to live with me
grateful for the shared bottles of wine
for the shared smiles
shared nights
stories
journeys
amazing people who gave me
some of the best parts
of their year
to mix into mine
we've shared good days
to make one year
amongst seven billion others
2011 was an impossible distances
traversed on a raft of failed attempts
to find a perfect order of words
snaking into a tale
ending up eating my own words
that cyclic
ending as beginning thing
that types up mistakes label-named
from messes you made
out of this year
to find yourself
here
thinking next time you can do better
thinking next time maybe you'll get this right
I got here as soon as I could
with year 2011 sitting flat on the floor
fat like an overstuffed suitcase
with a lid that won't zip close
no matter how much I sit on it
stuffing five countries down
into a shape you can't really sum up
a whole year
except in remembering
good advice given
from a girl who told me
while embracing
to hang in a little longer
when giving someone a hug
so I did,
this year
I hung in there.
_______________________
well I wanted this done for Dec 31st for obvious reasons, but the damn thing kept turning into a braggadocio list for the year gone, replete with photos of the prize money Alex and I got from our video, meeting Shane Koyczan, seeing the World's biggest cave... blah blah blah toss, snore.
Anyway, that's not the intent, and while I'm not honestly convinced I've scrubbed out all the wank, this thing's already endured more editing and rewriting that the Nepalese Constitution, and it's already the 4th, so fuckit, I'm letting it go, as is... got it here as soon as I could.
-Peace
2011
I got here as soon as I could
high pointed-out of a plane
to jump fifteen thousand feet
then land on mine
this year found me valentine
stealing a cloud-top kiss
Mount Taranaki's weathered face
peaking out just to catch us
grinning 365 days of endorphins
into a road trip turned romance
stopped short
by a year
from any detours
from popping a collar
buying an iPhone
house-sitting a set-top box
or hemorrhaging any money
through holes they'll make in your wallet
to fit a petrol tank
still not buying into any of that
this year
found me staring down
sounds of a talked walk
writing burnmarks
on a hundred-more or more lonely nights
wrote when the blank screen
was a bleeding animal
or the empty stomach
out of an autopsy
when I've been dead-wrong
and fucken knew it
2011 hit me square like a stiff drink
into a dose of cold water
licking ice off the window frames
in my glass house with greener grass
than status updates ever dare say
this year
played me along like a laugh track
following from one joke to the next
and none of them I was in on
the comedy situational
my humour unintentional
the timing...
...predictable
when at last I realised
that you better accept yourself
before expecting anyone else to
so I accept myself
I got here as soon as I could
2011 was a pat on the back
reminder for the facts that
I am me
and I like being me
wouldn't want to be anyone else on Earth
least of all, say my old boss
Paul Bourke of The Salvation Army St Kilda Crisis Centre Health Services
poor Paul, every single day in 2011
you had to wake up being you~
not just the biggest arsehole working welfare
but the worst -thing- two people having sex
ever produced
while I climbed a cliff up in Borneo
you were stuck
an office desk up your arse for a spine
hiding behind tasteless shirts
and a tucked in hair cut
a protracted excuse for incompetence posing
as a position to fill
meanwhile
I got to be me
every day this year
like the ones where I went busking
with a bearded lady in the town I was born
or took a friend to see 2001 on a cinema screen
or took bike-rides down dead of night streets
or meditated silent in the Blue Mountains
I'm grateful for it all
for a year that brought my sister back
safe after the Christchurch quakes
that brought my old cat back to live with me
grateful for the shared bottles of wine
for the shared smiles
shared nights
stories
journeys
amazing people who gave me
some of the best parts
of their year
to mix into mine
we've shared good days
to make one year
amongst seven billion others
2011 was an impossible distances
traversed on a raft of failed attempts
to find a perfect order of words
snaking into a tale
ending up eating my own words
that cyclic
ending as beginning thing
that types up mistakes label-named
from messes you made
out of this year
to find yourself
here
thinking next time you can do better
thinking next time maybe you'll get this right
I got here as soon as I could
with year 2011 sitting flat on the floor
fat like an overstuffed suitcase
with a lid that won't zip close
no matter how much I sit on it
stuffing five countries down
into a shape you can't really sum up
a whole year
except in remembering
good advice given
from a girl who told me
while embracing
to hang in a little longer
when giving someone a hug
so I did,
this year
I hung in there.
_______________________
well I wanted this done for Dec 31st for obvious reasons, but the damn thing kept turning into a braggadocio list for the year gone, replete with photos of the prize money Alex and I got from our video, meeting Shane Koyczan, seeing the World's biggest cave... blah blah blah toss, snore.
Anyway, that's not the intent, and while I'm not honestly convinced I've scrubbed out all the wank, this thing's already endured more editing and rewriting that the Nepalese Constitution, and it's already the 4th, so fuckit, I'm letting it go, as is... got it here as soon as I could.
-Peace
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Unwriting Your Resume -14/12/2011
.
you see the fearful
fuck themselves limp
for Friday night
for car starts and spaces to park
to get red light angry
go green light tyred
bottling up their last sunlight
draining it into repayments
of TV reruns
and you
don't want to be one
of them
eating away at a debt
to starve off that fear
seeking supermarket aisle asylum
to hide from opportunity lost
humping the road to keep
from careening off it
even faster
and faster chase happily ever after
fearful down the fairy trail
looking to put a ring on a finger
to hide from a monster under the bed
you see the fearful
and you don't to be one
of them
having your own name
advertised back to you and how
-can-
they really
fight off fear
smoking cigarettes outside the hospital
only reading from a television screen
staying in touch just a text
with the word 'contact'
now simply something numbered
and punched into phone pads
you see the fearful
stalked by time
making them
prey
for a savior
and you...
you are scared too
you don't want them
to be you
with only stomach on your mind
or a wishlist of things
you don't need to buy
people you don't need to do
things not to say
and reminders to yourself
to forget about all this
this fear
stops here
so tomorrow,
wash all their filth away
by getting just a little dirtier
carve into your blunt fear
attack it berserker
don't phone a friend
just in case they have the answer
accidentally
go without words most of the day
to see what it says
then
waste whatever big chunk of time
you got left
just so
you can let that fucking clock know
you're no longer afraid of it
____________________________________
-Peace
.
you see the fearful
fuck themselves limp
for Friday night
for car starts and spaces to park
to get red light angry
go green light tyred
bottling up their last sunlight
draining it into repayments
of TV reruns
and you
don't want to be one
of them
eating away at a debt
to starve off that fear
seeking supermarket aisle asylum
to hide from opportunity lost
humping the road to keep
from careening off it
even faster
and faster chase happily ever after
fearful down the fairy trail
looking to put a ring on a finger
to hide from a monster under the bed
you see the fearful
and you don't to be one
of them
having your own name
advertised back to you and how
-can-
they really
fight off fear
smoking cigarettes outside the hospital
only reading from a television screen
staying in touch just a text
with the word 'contact'
now simply something numbered
and punched into phone pads
you see the fearful
stalked by time
making them
prey
for a savior
and you...
you are scared too
you don't want them
to be you
with only stomach on your mind
or a wishlist of things
you don't need to buy
people you don't need to do
things not to say
and reminders to yourself
to forget about all this
this fear
stops here
so tomorrow,
wash all their filth away
by getting just a little dirtier
carve into your blunt fear
attack it berserker
don't phone a friend
just in case they have the answer
accidentally
go without words most of the day
to see what it says
then
waste whatever big chunk of time
you got left
just so
you can let that fucking clock know
you're no longer afraid of it
____________________________________
-Peace
.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Sweetalkers December -THIS SUNDAY 11/12/2011
.
Four of the finest features to ever feature for us and an MC you'll have to see to believe, believe me we are this Sunday putting on the best spoken word in Melbourne that the best spoken word gig in Melbourne has ever put on, on a Sunday.
Here's what we're talking about:
IZZY ROBERTS-ORR
21 year-old Poet/playwright Izzy Roberts-Orr originally hails from Footscray but has recently moved to the dangerous, botoxed depths of the inner east in order to attend Monash University, where she studies politics, philosophy and law. Izzy was a finalist in the Overload Poetry slam last year and a Muddy River Slam winner and is currently working on a collection of poems entitled "portraits of people on fire."
Earlier this year, her play 'NightMinds,' a fusion of poetry and performance text garnered excellent reviews at the Adelaide Fringe Festival. She is currently working on a new play called 'Twins' which is going on for further development as part of the MKA workshop season at MTC Theater.
Sweetalkers will be Izzy's first full poetry feature, and if that wasn't enough: She'll actually be turning 21 -the day- of this Sweetalkers event. We promise not to do something lame like get her a cake and make everyone in the crowd sing happy birthday.
The Secret Life of Inanimate Objects
(if you are not seeing a playable window above CLICK HERE for a direct link to vimeo)
DOWN TO EARTH
"Down To Earth" is John McKelvie, Brian Walters and Jez P.A. Speelman joining forces to deliver a dynamic and beautiful set of spoken word, lyrical poetry and song expressing their individual connections and collective homage to our home; planet Earth.
Brian Walters is a barrister, co-founder of Wild magazine and the Greens in Victoria, and a keen supporter of spoken word.
Jez P.A. Speelman is a performance artist, poet, sound artist and multi-medium arts enthusiast. He has performed and exhibited all over Melbourne and other parts of Australia and has been described as a "hybrid
fun factory" and a "cartoon character with a microphone".
John McKelvie is a poet and singer songwriter originally from Scotland with a voice matured for forty years in a whiskey barrel. Poets think he’s a good singer and vice versa. Has disgraced the Melbourne poetry scene for a
number of years and would be one of poetry’s older statesmen if there was anything statesmanlike about him.
LEE KOFMAN
Lee Kofman is an Israeli-Australian author of three fiction books. Her poetry, alongside her essays and short stories, has appeared in Australia, USA and UK. She is the recipient of various awards and writing residencies. Lee performs poetry and spoken word widely, including taking a part in Saloni M and Liner Notes, Melbourne's Emerging Writers Festival and Wordplay.
DARKWING DUBS (aka Scott Sneddon)
Brisbane based artist Darkwing Dubs has been performing his experimental mix of hip-hop and poetry for almost a decade, with a diverse artistic history involves theater shows, hip-hop crews, poetry collectives, bands, beat-making and DJing.
Four-time state finalist in the Australian Poetry Slam, and twice competing in the national finals (coming runner up in 2010), and also finalist in the Nimbin Performance Poetry World Cup two years in a row. Founding member of Brisbane’s most dynamic poetry collective, Broken Records, for the past two years which has seen them on stages at the Queensland Poetry Festival and the recent Canberra slam summit.
Darkwing Dubs covers an amazing sweep of spoken words styles and subject matter, the energy and crowd connectivity displayed when Darkwing Dubs steps behind the microphone, has to be seen to be believed.
If Jesus Was Born Again
(if you are not seeing a playable window above CLICK HERE for a direct link to vimeo)
THIS MONTHS MC...
Randall Stephens has had a short and lusterless I mean lustful I mean lustrous career in public speaking beginning humbly with singing in the shower to swearing at his cat and yelling at his (fucken) computer, before moving on to singing along to headphones while cycling in the CDB, scaring people with animal noises out of drainpipes and in more recent years has made a career for himself heckling actual poets at their gigs.
Randall now brings his many years of experience standing upright, dressing himself and opening his mouth to see what comes out, to battle against the English language as our new MC for Sweetalkers this month. Oh dear.
5 Extraordinary minutes with Randall
(if you are not seeing a playable window above CLICK HERE for a direct YouTube link)
It's all THIS SUNDAY, December 11th
at The Bendigo Hotel
125 Johnston Street
Collingwood
7pm
$10 entry
SWEETALKERS DECEMBER
FIND US ON FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/groups/sweetalkers/
___________________________
-Peace
.
Four of the finest features to ever feature for us and an MC you'll have to see to believe, believe me we are this Sunday putting on the best spoken word in Melbourne that the best spoken word gig in Melbourne has ever put on, on a Sunday.
Here's what we're talking about:
IZZY ROBERTS-ORR
21 year-old Poet/playwright Izzy Roberts-Orr originally hails from Footscray but has recently moved to the dangerous, botoxed depths of the inner east in order to attend Monash University, where she studies politics, philosophy and law. Izzy was a finalist in the Overload Poetry slam last year and a Muddy River Slam winner and is currently working on a collection of poems entitled "portraits of people on fire."
Earlier this year, her play 'NightMinds,' a fusion of poetry and performance text garnered excellent reviews at the Adelaide Fringe Festival. She is currently working on a new play called 'Twins' which is going on for further development as part of the MKA workshop season at MTC Theater.
Sweetalkers will be Izzy's first full poetry feature, and if that wasn't enough: She'll actually be turning 21 -the day- of this Sweetalkers event. We promise not to do something lame like get her a cake and make everyone in the crowd sing happy birthday.
The Secret Life of Inanimate Objects
The Secret Life of Inanimate Objects from Izzy Roberts-Orr on Vimeo.
(if you are not seeing a playable window above CLICK HERE for a direct link to vimeo)
DOWN TO EARTH
"Down To Earth" is John McKelvie, Brian Walters and Jez P.A. Speelman joining forces to deliver a dynamic and beautiful set of spoken word, lyrical poetry and song expressing their individual connections and collective homage to our home; planet Earth.
Brian Walters is a barrister, co-founder of Wild magazine and the Greens in Victoria, and a keen supporter of spoken word.
Jez P.A. Speelman is a performance artist, poet, sound artist and multi-medium arts enthusiast. He has performed and exhibited all over Melbourne and other parts of Australia and has been described as a "hybrid
fun factory" and a "cartoon character with a microphone".
John McKelvie is a poet and singer songwriter originally from Scotland with a voice matured for forty years in a whiskey barrel. Poets think he’s a good singer and vice versa. Has disgraced the Melbourne poetry scene for a
number of years and would be one of poetry’s older statesmen if there was anything statesmanlike about him.
LEE KOFMAN
Lee Kofman is an Israeli-Australian author of three fiction books. Her poetry, alongside her essays and short stories, has appeared in Australia, USA and UK. She is the recipient of various awards and writing residencies. Lee performs poetry and spoken word widely, including taking a part in Saloni M and Liner Notes, Melbourne's Emerging Writers Festival and Wordplay.
DARKWING DUBS (aka Scott Sneddon)
Brisbane based artist Darkwing Dubs has been performing his experimental mix of hip-hop and poetry for almost a decade, with a diverse artistic history involves theater shows, hip-hop crews, poetry collectives, bands, beat-making and DJing.
Four-time state finalist in the Australian Poetry Slam, and twice competing in the national finals (coming runner up in 2010), and also finalist in the Nimbin Performance Poetry World Cup two years in a row. Founding member of Brisbane’s most dynamic poetry collective, Broken Records, for the past two years which has seen them on stages at the Queensland Poetry Festival and the recent Canberra slam summit.
Darkwing Dubs covers an amazing sweep of spoken words styles and subject matter, the energy and crowd connectivity displayed when Darkwing Dubs steps behind the microphone, has to be seen to be believed.
If Jesus Was Born Again
Darkwing Dubs - If Jesus Was Born Again. from thomas on Vimeo.
(if you are not seeing a playable window above CLICK HERE for a direct link to vimeo)
THIS MONTHS MC...
Randall Stephens has had a short and lusterless I mean lustful I mean lustrous career in public speaking beginning humbly with singing in the shower to swearing at his cat and yelling at his (fucken) computer, before moving on to singing along to headphones while cycling in the CDB, scaring people with animal noises out of drainpipes and in more recent years has made a career for himself heckling actual poets at their gigs.
Randall now brings his many years of experience standing upright, dressing himself and opening his mouth to see what comes out, to battle against the English language as our new MC for Sweetalkers this month. Oh dear.
5 Extraordinary minutes with Randall
(if you are not seeing a playable window above CLICK HERE for a direct YouTube link)
It's all THIS SUNDAY, December 11th
at The Bendigo Hotel
125 Johnston Street
Collingwood
7pm
$10 entry
SWEETALKERS DECEMBER
FIND US ON FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/groups/sweetalkers/
___________________________
-Peace
.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Glass Half Fool -08/12/2011
.
it's cold out there
the bar
freezes
between your fidgets
digiting out drums on a table top
that's all uncoastered line curves
caught glances
taut smile polite
and small talk
afloat
drowned in three drinks
while practicing the strokes
of your best sharking swim
washing up sure-line
in reflexive retreat
solitary
to the toilet stall mirror
hands aren't dry
facing your eyes
as they demand answers from you
about
just
what the hell are you gonna do
when you go back out there
_____________________________
-Peace
.
it's cold out there
the bar
freezes
between your fidgets
digiting out drums on a table top
that's all uncoastered line curves
caught glances
taut smile polite
and small talk
afloat
drowned in three drinks
while practicing the strokes
of your best sharking swim
washing up sure-line
in reflexive retreat
solitary
to the toilet stall mirror
hands aren't dry
facing your eyes
as they demand answers from you
about
just
what the hell are you gonna do
when you go back out there
_____________________________
-Peace
.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Blacklisted -21/11/2011
.
BLACKLISTED
our fathers politics the teeth stuck
in our ears
Andrew bolt-action beliefs
loaded
poles piping up
barrels of a rifle
for pepper spraying
pensioner protesters
to de-occupy
and nullify
the vox populi
poles
propping up a cyclone fence
that cannot be stretched
around enough coast line
to cover up the whole truth
poles
melting with a patience
that can't be disproved
sandbagged
or swept under
the lowest common
demonisation
of scientific investigation
poles
polarise us
double negative
repetitive
like how big business
continually wipes it's arse
with our money
an imaginary friend
didactic
pretending underdog
polarised
spectacles
to rose tint
this soldier ant system
the black face white lies
caught red handed
in grey areas of
human rights
human wrongs
and assertions
that any question
could somehow be dangerous
but
if it needs you to fear
if it needs you to hate
if it needs you to find
foreigners to blame
then turn away
from each lie
case by case
because racism
xenophobia
homophobia
hypocrisy
and distortion of science
are in evidence
the truth puts us on trial
the future will be our judge
with history as our hostile witness.
________________________________
Andrew Bolt is a piece of shit stuck to our collective shoe, and I'm wiping my feet tonight, taking a little solace in the realisation that, popular as he is now, ultimately history will catch up to him and all his bullshit.
The future will not look back on racism, xenophobia, homophobia, hypocrisy, and distortion of scientific data kindly. He's destined to be remembered as favourably as Senator Joseph McCarthy. Same goes for Alan Bond, Kenneth Lay, Mel Gibson, Pauline Hanson, Reverend Fred Phelps, Darryl Gates, David Duke and Bill O Reilly, to name a few.
And there is some comfort there my friends. Goodnight.
-Peace
.
BLACKLISTED
our fathers politics the teeth stuck
in our ears
Andrew bolt-action beliefs
loaded
poles piping up
barrels of a rifle
for pepper spraying
pensioner protesters
to de-occupy
and nullify
the vox populi
poles
propping up a cyclone fence
that cannot be stretched
around enough coast line
to cover up the whole truth
poles
melting with a patience
that can't be disproved
sandbagged
or swept under
the lowest common
demonisation
of scientific investigation
poles
polarise us
double negative
repetitive
like how big business
continually wipes it's arse
with our money
an imaginary friend
didactic
pretending underdog
polarised
spectacles
to rose tint
this soldier ant system
the black face white lies
caught red handed
in grey areas of
human rights
human wrongs
and assertions
that any question
could somehow be dangerous
but
if it needs you to fear
if it needs you to hate
if it needs you to find
foreigners to blame
then turn away
from each lie
case by case
because racism
xenophobia
homophobia
hypocrisy
and distortion of science
are in evidence
the truth puts us on trial
the future will be our judge
with history as our hostile witness.
________________________________
Andrew Bolt is a piece of shit stuck to our collective shoe, and I'm wiping my feet tonight, taking a little solace in the realisation that, popular as he is now, ultimately history will catch up to him and all his bullshit.
The future will not look back on racism, xenophobia, homophobia, hypocrisy, and distortion of scientific data kindly. He's destined to be remembered as favourably as Senator Joseph McCarthy. Same goes for Alan Bond, Kenneth Lay, Mel Gibson, Pauline Hanson, Reverend Fred Phelps, Darryl Gates, David Duke and Bill O Reilly, to name a few.
And there is some comfort there my friends. Goodnight.
-Peace
.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Irony (the 'Revolution' redux) -10/11/2011
.
"the only license you need to speak is a readiness to listen"
-Daniel Ferri
Is it ironic...?
that Gil Scot Heron said
the revolution will not be televised
because by all accounts, it has been
-uploaded
downloaded
YouTubed
facebooked
and it was exactly
that kind of social media
actually helped recent revolutions
in what we're currently calling
the Arab spring
ironic
like stickers
sporting environmental slogans
stuck on the back of cars
ahh.. you might as well carry a gun
with
'give peace a chance'
written on the barrel
it is ironic
like it's ironic
that many consider the bicycle
more dangerous
to people on roads
than cars are
is it ironic...
how this country full of rich people
whose economy
is inextricably linked
to exploiting natural resources
whose geography
consists mainly
of sun scorched desert
have deemed solar power
too expensive to develop
is it ironical
that this country's people
not only do the most carbon polluting per capita
in the world
but also stand to suffer the worst of its effects
are then
also the least willing to do
--anything--
about
it
-is-
ironic
that
this land
-was-
stolen from a sixty-something thousand year old culture
where invaders claiming no one owned it prior
try to justify keeping others out of it
now
because they want to preserve their way of life
is it ironic that this country's welfare system
won’t help you if you’re homeless
unless you can give them a mailing address
for the cheque to be sent to
and check the irony
in media storms whipped up
around a fourteen year old kid
arrested in Indonesia
for drugs
when childen from them places
just turning up
on our doorstep
uninvited
is considered a crime
irony
like the loneliness
you find
truest only in cities
when you're surrounded by millions
irony like showing people-
touching bodies
having sex on screens
labeled dirty and obscene
but movies showing people-
shooting inflicting violence
on other people's bodies
are considered acceptable, clean
in the quick crucifixed
censorship of violence bible bashing us
with pro-life death penalties
ignorant guardians of information
bigoted diatribe editorial scrawl
speaking out-rage in writing
over what someone else said
while in the meantime
the keep left signs point nowhere
so-called social outcasts moulding themselves
idealist
trying to deny that they're just a different stripe
of ideologue,
they keep hiding behind the Bush's
accusing Obama of being worse than his predecessor
principally because he's had to compromise
I guess the left handed-heavy
have not yet been able to
real-eyes
that if you really want
the type of benevolent dictator
wielding the kind of autocratic sweep
you've described that he should keep
you'll have to do more than elect one
the only conclusion you seem able to reach
is
oh, well, umm, y'know he should just make another speech
forgetting what he said
when he was announced president-elect:
"I promise to always listen to you
especially at times when we disagree the most"
no idle boast
taken to ask
while I ask
is there irony made out of
ideas we claim to embrace
and those we don't
in whom we point our fingers at
and at whom we won't
listening selectively to leaders
who tell us to disregard the science
because it's inconclusive
not understanding that the power science has
over religious dogma
is that it never purports
to have a conclusive answer
I don't have any answers either
just thoughts and ideas
(thank god)
and I can't help but thinking
that revolution also means 'spin'
a political revolution need plenty of spin
to cover for the fact
that they have rarely
if-ever
have changed a fucking thing
irony defines more revolutions
than revolution have defined change
the revolution has been televised
and even if you haven't stayed home brother
you're still couching your concern
global
in a two-sided ideologue shit fight
so instead
of telling me
to choose a side
as if people taking sides
has ever helped anything
in human history
except their own sense of pride
think you need to take a closer look
I see no sides worth taking
on a planet spinning it's own revolutions
day for night
because this turning world truly has no sides.
________________________________
This poem was retooled from a more left-leaning soap boxy affair I'd punched out back in April, revamped for a gig last week paying tribute to the late, great Gil Scot Heron.
It was a great line up of local poets, and most of the work was politically inclined so instinctively, rather than getting high on my own supply, I went for the chance to be a dissenter amongst dissenters to then night, I think it was successful for the most part, if nothing else this statement (or anti-statement) added another texture to the evening.
-Peace
.
"the only license you need to speak is a readiness to listen"
-Daniel Ferri
Is it ironic...?
that Gil Scot Heron said
the revolution will not be televised
because by all accounts, it has been
-uploaded
downloaded
YouTubed
facebooked
and it was exactly
that kind of social media
actually helped recent revolutions
in what we're currently calling
the Arab spring
ironic
like stickers
sporting environmental slogans
stuck on the back of cars
ahh.. you might as well carry a gun
with
'give peace a chance'
written on the barrel
it is ironic
like it's ironic
that many consider the bicycle
more dangerous
to people on roads
than cars are
is it ironic...
how this country full of rich people
whose economy
is inextricably linked
to exploiting natural resources
whose geography
consists mainly
of sun scorched desert
have deemed solar power
too expensive to develop
is it ironical
that this country's people
not only do the most carbon polluting per capita
in the world
but also stand to suffer the worst of its effects
are then
also the least willing to do
--anything--
about
it
-is-
ironic
that
this land
-was-
stolen from a sixty-something thousand year old culture
where invaders claiming no one owned it prior
try to justify keeping others out of it
now
because they want to preserve their way of life
is it ironic that this country's welfare system
won’t help you if you’re homeless
unless you can give them a mailing address
for the cheque to be sent to
and check the irony
in media storms whipped up
around a fourteen year old kid
arrested in Indonesia
for drugs
when childen from them places
just turning up
on our doorstep
uninvited
is considered a crime
irony
like the loneliness
you find
truest only in cities
when you're surrounded by millions
irony like showing people-
touching bodies
having sex on screens
labeled dirty and obscene
but movies showing people-
shooting inflicting violence
on other people's bodies
are considered acceptable, clean
in the quick crucifixed
censorship of violence bible bashing us
with pro-life death penalties
ignorant guardians of information
bigoted diatribe editorial scrawl
speaking out-rage in writing
over what someone else said
while in the meantime
the keep left signs point nowhere
so-called social outcasts moulding themselves
idealist
trying to deny that they're just a different stripe
of ideologue,
they keep hiding behind the Bush's
accusing Obama of being worse than his predecessor
principally because he's had to compromise
I guess the left handed-heavy
have not yet been able to
real-eyes
that if you really want
the type of benevolent dictator
wielding the kind of autocratic sweep
you've described that he should keep
you'll have to do more than elect one
the only conclusion you seem able to reach
is
oh, well, umm, y'know he should just make another speech
forgetting what he said
when he was announced president-elect:
"I promise to always listen to you
especially at times when we disagree the most"
no idle boast
taken to ask
while I ask
is there irony made out of
ideas we claim to embrace
and those we don't
in whom we point our fingers at
and at whom we won't
listening selectively to leaders
who tell us to disregard the science
because it's inconclusive
not understanding that the power science has
over religious dogma
is that it never purports
to have a conclusive answer
I don't have any answers either
just thoughts and ideas
(thank god)
and I can't help but thinking
that revolution also means 'spin'
a political revolution need plenty of spin
to cover for the fact
that they have rarely
if-ever
have changed a fucking thing
irony defines more revolutions
than revolution have defined change
the revolution has been televised
and even if you haven't stayed home brother
you're still couching your concern
global
in a two-sided ideologue shit fight
so instead
of telling me
to choose a side
as if people taking sides
has ever helped anything
in human history
except their own sense of pride
think you need to take a closer look
I see no sides worth taking
on a planet spinning it's own revolutions
day for night
because this turning world truly has no sides.
________________________________
This poem was retooled from a more left-leaning soap boxy affair I'd punched out back in April, revamped for a gig last week paying tribute to the late, great Gil Scot Heron.
It was a great line up of local poets, and most of the work was politically inclined so instinctively, rather than getting high on my own supply, I went for the chance to be a dissenter amongst dissenters to then night, I think it was successful for the most part, if nothing else this statement (or anti-statement) added another texture to the evening.
-Peace
.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Sweetalkers November -THIS SUNDAY 13/11/2011
.
This Sunday, Sweetalkers November sees the stage graced by the face of interstate poetry sage ROBIN ARCHBOLD, down from Queensland to show and tell us a thing or two about a thing or two, along with the amazing LINDA BEATTY and her unique blend of harp-paying cabaret stand up comedy, if that doesn't sound funny enough we're also unleashing the full force of BEN POBJIE's vitriol on you, complimenting the pathos and power of emerging poet BRONWYN LOVELL.
BEN POBJIE
Author, comedian, poet, commentator, raconteur - is there no end to the words Ben knows how to spell? Perhaps not, but he also does other things too. With no journalistic qualifications whatsoever, he has a weekly column at Australian news commentary site newmatilda.com, and his writing has appeared in Crikey, The Age and The Punch, among others.
In between regularly harassing Australia's editors with his vaguely satirical ramblings, he blogs at benpobjie.blogspot.com, podcasts at gatheraround.me, and has published two books: Handy Latin Phrases and The Adventures of Guanacoman. A regular on ABC radio, Triple R and 2SER, he has been described as "puerile and bigoted" by Miranda Devine, and is currently engaged in a campaign to become Australia's first Poet Laureate.
Join him in his dangerously obsessive quest for fame, continuing at Sweetalkers
-Don't Give Up
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here for a direct YouTube link
BRONWYN LOVELL
Bronwyn Lovell is an emerging poet and spoken word performer in Melbourne, featuring at many events and festivals as well as on community radio and local television. She has a writing residency at Kinfolk Cafe as part of Australian Poetry Ltd’s Cafe Poets Program, and she is a workshop facilitator for the Centre for Poetics and Justice.
In 2011 she travelled to the US, where she was the first Australian to compete in the Women of the World Poetry Tournament. www.bronwynlovell.com
-Troubled Men
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here for a direct YouTube link
LINDA BEATTY
A classically trained singer and Celtic harpist, Linda offers an original twist to the cabaret and stand-up genres, with heavenly singing and twisted fairy tales she explores the lies adults tell themselves.
She won The Comics Lounge Best New Comic award in 2009, was the Green Faces Comedy finalist and St Kilda Laughs Festival finalist, and in 2010 was the Raw Comedy state finalist for Victoria, was awarded an Outside Eye Mentorship by The Melbourne Fringe Festival. This year her show The UnEnchanted Princess received rave reviews during The Melbourne International Comedy Festival.
Those who love comedy, fairy tales, Disney and their cabaret sweetly dark will adore Linda Beatty, and we are honoured to have her perform for us at Sweetalkers.
-The UnEnchanted Princess
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here for a direct YouTube link
ROBIN ARCHBOLD
Our poster boy for this month, Robin Archbold is the co-founder of the Nimbin Performance Poetry World Cup, winner of the Woodford folk festivals slam and many others, featured at Australian Poetry Slam Final, the Queensland Poetry Festival, Tasmanian Poetry Festival and just about everywhere else really.
Archy attacks the stage with a mixture of charm, humour, rhyme and a occasionally indulged his penchant for ripping of his clothes of during shws. A personal inspiration and friend of mine ever since I saw him close out the last Wordplay gig in 2009, I'm absolutely delighted to present him at Sweetalkers.
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here for a direct YouTube link
The line up is stellar, the bar is open, the burgers are $5, the entry is $10, the stage is set (or will be when y'get there), the start time 7.30, and the MC is OMAR MUSA
That's alotta wow for one gig, come along and soak it up Sunday November 13th.
http://www.facebook.com/groups/sweetalkers
http://www.bendigohotel.com.au/
___________________
-Peace
.
This Sunday, Sweetalkers November sees the stage graced by the face of interstate poetry sage ROBIN ARCHBOLD, down from Queensland to show and tell us a thing or two about a thing or two, along with the amazing LINDA BEATTY and her unique blend of harp-paying cabaret stand up comedy, if that doesn't sound funny enough we're also unleashing the full force of BEN POBJIE's vitriol on you, complimenting the pathos and power of emerging poet BRONWYN LOVELL.
BEN POBJIE
Author, comedian, poet, commentator, raconteur - is there no end to the words Ben knows how to spell? Perhaps not, but he also does other things too. With no journalistic qualifications whatsoever, he has a weekly column at Australian news commentary site newmatilda.com, and his writing has appeared in Crikey, The Age and The Punch, among others.
In between regularly harassing Australia's editors with his vaguely satirical ramblings, he blogs at benpobjie.blogspot.com, podcasts at gatheraround.me, and has published two books: Handy Latin Phrases and The Adventures of Guanacoman. A regular on ABC radio, Triple R and 2SER, he has been described as "puerile and bigoted" by Miranda Devine, and is currently engaged in a campaign to become Australia's first Poet Laureate.
Join him in his dangerously obsessive quest for fame, continuing at Sweetalkers
-Don't Give Up
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here for a direct YouTube link
BRONWYN LOVELL
Bronwyn Lovell is an emerging poet and spoken word performer in Melbourne, featuring at many events and festivals as well as on community radio and local television. She has a writing residency at Kinfolk Cafe as part of Australian Poetry Ltd’s Cafe Poets Program, and she is a workshop facilitator for the Centre for Poetics and Justice.
In 2011 she travelled to the US, where she was the first Australian to compete in the Women of the World Poetry Tournament. www.bronwynlovell.com
-Troubled Men
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here for a direct YouTube link
LINDA BEATTY
A classically trained singer and Celtic harpist, Linda offers an original twist to the cabaret and stand-up genres, with heavenly singing and twisted fairy tales she explores the lies adults tell themselves.
She won The Comics Lounge Best New Comic award in 2009, was the Green Faces Comedy finalist and St Kilda Laughs Festival finalist, and in 2010 was the Raw Comedy state finalist for Victoria, was awarded an Outside Eye Mentorship by The Melbourne Fringe Festival. This year her show The UnEnchanted Princess received rave reviews during The Melbourne International Comedy Festival.
Those who love comedy, fairy tales, Disney and their cabaret sweetly dark will adore Linda Beatty, and we are honoured to have her perform for us at Sweetalkers.
-The UnEnchanted Princess
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here for a direct YouTube link
ROBIN ARCHBOLD
Our poster boy for this month, Robin Archbold is the co-founder of the Nimbin Performance Poetry World Cup, winner of the Woodford folk festivals slam and many others, featured at Australian Poetry Slam Final, the Queensland Poetry Festival, Tasmanian Poetry Festival and just about everywhere else really.
Archy attacks the stage with a mixture of charm, humour, rhyme and a occasionally indulged his penchant for ripping of his clothes of during shws. A personal inspiration and friend of mine ever since I saw him close out the last Wordplay gig in 2009, I'm absolutely delighted to present him at Sweetalkers.
if you are not seeing a playable window above click here for a direct YouTube link
The line up is stellar, the bar is open, the burgers are $5, the entry is $10, the stage is set (or will be when y'get there), the start time 7.30, and the MC is OMAR MUSA
That's alotta wow for one gig, come along and soak it up Sunday November 13th.
http://www.facebook.com/groups/sweetalkers
http://www.bendigohotel.com.au/
___________________
-Peace
.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
I Blame Smarty -3/11/2011
.
walking in two hours late
to find him tabling for two
evening's second jug sitting
with a spare seat thirsty
and conspicuously vacant second glass
with my name on it
while his name
and picture
grace the hoodie I'm wearing
and with all this BFF-BS
yes,
we must look cute between the hugs
if only anyone was watching us
cute
but not gay
'cause us cats done tried out that routine once
to get cheap lap dances -didn't work
bromance doesn't apply to us either
we're already individually far too melodramatic
to have that shit stick
we've got sentiment on wholesale
piled up into smiles
but can't move the stock
off these docks
not with all the... strikes
we work through
nope
chicks see us coming every time
mixed metaphors with in-jokes
last smokes and new hopes
handed enough rope
to hang ourselves, around 'til close
pros at prose
but everybody knows
we're just a mess
joined at the hip-pocket
just as broke as we've gone for
across this country
two-crumpled faces into bus tickets
trench coats and memorised poetry lines
that you forget
that you'll forget
when you get that drunk
and we always get that drunk
and we always stay that late
and we're always getting stuck
but never for something to say
with much between us we don't need to say
like I'm saying (hiccup)
that about the best luck
either of us
cunts
has ever had
is that once
we were lucky enough
just
to have met each other
...and a great hoodie it is too, check out Smarty's home shopping network here. Can't go spelling shameless without me.
__________________________________________
-Peace
.
walking in two hours late
to find him tabling for two
evening's second jug sitting
with a spare seat thirsty
and conspicuously vacant second glass
with my name on it
while his name
and picture
grace the hoodie I'm wearing
and with all this BFF-BS
yes,
we must look cute between the hugs
if only anyone was watching us
cute
but not gay
'cause us cats done tried out that routine once
to get cheap lap dances -didn't work
bromance doesn't apply to us either
we're already individually far too melodramatic
to have that shit stick
we've got sentiment on wholesale
piled up into smiles
but can't move the stock
off these docks
not with all the... strikes
we work through
nope
chicks see us coming every time
mixed metaphors with in-jokes
last smokes and new hopes
handed enough rope
to hang ourselves, around 'til close
pros at prose
but everybody knows
we're just a mess
joined at the hip-pocket
just as broke as we've gone for
across this country
two-crumpled faces into bus tickets
trench coats and memorised poetry lines
that you forget
that you'll forget
when you get that drunk
and we always get that drunk
and we always stay that late
and we're always getting stuck
but never for something to say
with much between us we don't need to say
like I'm saying (hiccup)
that about the best luck
either of us
cunts
has ever had
is that once
we were lucky enough
just
to have met each other
...and a great hoodie it is too, check out Smarty's home shopping network here. Can't go spelling shameless without me.
__________________________________________
-Peace
.
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