them distorted, busty united sand skeletons
seek wet flesh - postured crystalline decades
those granular narrative arcs, a seaweed neath yr toes
this ignited karri/salt projection
of colonic retard riffs - bass n drum
as glisten-ripped as our Cousins hamstring
our collective 38 storey bicep
raw FM fireworks, a Cross in a boat
a station, from southern sky
those banjo colts, regrets away
canned heat, the freeway thickness
of a north perth snare
the rippled flare of light
on shattered reverb Swan
i'm more sacred than tuart shrouds
with these words, an algal boom-town
more blac blood than blue bloc bone
said paul - at the repetitious gates
a barbed wire canoe
trapped in a fabricated
benign nicholas cage
raped, sedated capital
an ancient skool
--------
28 March 2009
19 March 2009
long range acoustic device
now
if i had a decent dunlop pick
i'd reach another sorta denim plain
and
if i had a digger's neck
i'd crucify a flat white terabyte
by any other name
then
tonguing for the commodified fizz
that aromatic head - our cigarette stance
the fermented starch measurement
seven stages of men
of boys with
knives
us
all sweaty crystal chainsaw oil
in this bleached living room
a busted blackened whale
a harpoon speech pattern
this
rests more as a gallery
for heterotrophic ducks
than an empty cordoroy canopy
a chronic box of plastic bags
my/our/this cobalt sanity
motto
save paper she said
our red hands stained
from it
..
a
if i had a decent dunlop pick
i'd reach another sorta denim plain
and
if i had a digger's neck
i'd crucify a flat white terabyte
by any other name
then
tonguing for the commodified fizz
that aromatic head - our cigarette stance
the fermented starch measurement
seven stages of men
of boys with
knives
us
all sweaty crystal chainsaw oil
in this bleached living room
a busted blackened whale
a harpoon speech pattern
this
rests more as a gallery
for heterotrophic ducks
than an empty cordoroy canopy
a chronic box of plastic bags
my/our/this cobalt sanity
motto
save paper she said
our red hands stained
from it
..
a
09 March 2009
Perth Poetry Club Begins - Every Saturday 2-4pm at the Court Hotel
Excited organisers of a fresh weekly poetry reading, Janet Jackson and Helen Child say:
The Perth Poetry Club will be kicking off on Saturday, March 28, from 2-4pm, and every Saturday thereafter, at The Court hotel and restaurant, 50 Beaufort Street, Perth.
This is opposite the museum, just along from the train station, about as central as it gets.
For those with recalcitrant feet: no stairs! - we will meet in the front corner room, on the right as you come in the front door.
Entry is free but donations will be encouraged. We want to be able to pay our guest poets, and there may be some expenses.
Expect a Guest poet each week, plus lots of 3-5 minute open mike slots and some time to chat. Under-18s are allowed in the venue until 8pm but they must be with their parent or guardian.
If you'd like to be included in the reading line-up for the first Poetry Club performance afternoon, email Helen child at: helchild@tpg.com.au
MCs, Helen Child and Janet Jackson say: "It will be a fun and relaxing way to spend a Saturday arvo. It's also a great place to try out that latest poem, or hone your performance skills!
Come and share some poems, and while you're there, enjoy the full bar and restaurant service of The Court to the extent allowed by your wallet and your mood..."
Labels:
performance,
perth performance poetry,
perth poetry,
poetry
07 March 2009
I won't be buying a car motherfucker
From an email today...
"Or you could always buy a car and get a license :-)"
My response:
I won't be buying a car motherfucker. And nor will I be getting a license just so I can get to Freo on a fucking Sunday night for a half-hour set.
Comrade, there are some things we choose not to do out of principle.
I don't drive a car like I don't use needles, or kick dogs, or fuck children...
Car use is arguably the biggest problem we face as a species. Driving a car is the most polluting act any average person can commit.
Whilst cars can be seen as a useful mobility and convenience, the consequences of car-use contribute to a gargantuan waste of non-renewable fuels, causing unnecessary air pollution, noise pollution, urban sprawl, urban decay etc etc etc...
Cars - their roads, freeways, carparks, driveways (plus the necessary corporate infrastructure to produce and maintain a car) cover massive areas of ecosystems. Its amazing when you look at maps which show this effect. Roads etc cover a huge percentage of city areas.
Our addiction to cars make cities completely dysfunctional - our urban centres are useless degraded places - choked with traffic and the resultant "road rage"! I'm amazed at the most passive people who display such vitriolic anger to others when they're behind a wheel.
And dude, consider the negative effects on wildlife habitat. New roads through sensitive ecosystems force the loss of threatened species. Road construction also messes with water tables, increases surface runoff - fucking with natural waterways.
Think also of the huge amount of resources needed for building the roads themselves - from mining of gravel in sensitive ecological areas to the use of bitumen etc...
Fuck cars. Ban the cunts, I say!
al
"Or you could always buy a car and get a license :-)"
My response:
I won't be buying a car motherfucker. And nor will I be getting a license just so I can get to Freo on a fucking Sunday night for a half-hour set.
Comrade, there are some things we choose not to do out of principle.
I don't drive a car like I don't use needles, or kick dogs, or fuck children...
Car use is arguably the biggest problem we face as a species. Driving a car is the most polluting act any average person can commit.
Whilst cars can be seen as a useful mobility and convenience, the consequences of car-use contribute to a gargantuan waste of non-renewable fuels, causing unnecessary air pollution, noise pollution, urban sprawl, urban decay etc etc etc...
Cars - their roads, freeways, carparks, driveways (plus the necessary corporate infrastructure to produce and maintain a car) cover massive areas of ecosystems. Its amazing when you look at maps which show this effect. Roads etc cover a huge percentage of city areas.
Our addiction to cars make cities completely dysfunctional - our urban centres are useless degraded places - choked with traffic and the resultant "road rage"! I'm amazed at the most passive people who display such vitriolic anger to others when they're behind a wheel.
And dude, consider the negative effects on wildlife habitat. New roads through sensitive ecosystems force the loss of threatened species. Road construction also messes with water tables, increases surface runoff - fucking with natural waterways.
Think also of the huge amount of resources needed for building the roads themselves - from mining of gravel in sensitive ecological areas to the use of bitumen etc...
Fuck cars. Ban the cunts, I say!
al
Its just a slam ramble
From a thread on Perth Indymedia
Whilst its kinda interesting to read the analysis of a slam here on perth indy, the point of a slam is NOT the competition. At all.
The competition is an illusion, a delusion.
Slam events are purposely designed to produce random judges from the folks in the crowd, ie not literary judges, not high-brow poets, not beret-wearing snobs! Although if those are in the audience then they may get to be a judge.
Its random. Its open and transparent.
Slams began in the 80s in Chicago as an attempt to get more people along to poetry readings. And it works!
For me: having organised hundreds of poetry events since the mid-90s - including dozens of slams - the idea of a slam is to bring people to poetry events. Not for poets to compete with each other. The competition is certainly tongue-in-cheek and just a way of presenting new work to new audiences.
A slam event takes poetry to a higher place.
For poets: its an opportunity to perform your work in bite-sized chunks to a decent audience of people who may not necessarily be poets. Its a chance to perform quality work in a quality space. To be the best poet YOU can be - not the Winner of the comp!
For those that want to win a slam: Please don't enter it to win! Enter to hone your work, to take the opportunity to perform new stuff to new people. Refine and polish, rehearse and edit, craft and shape etc... Be the best poet you can be.
For the audience: its an opportunity to be entertained by contemporary and exciting poetry. The competition factor is a ruse. A joke. A ploy to get people in the venue. And it works. Every heat of this series was booked-out. We even needed a TV in the bar for those who couldn't fit in the theatre.
And the best bit about slams: I get to declare the next poet like they were a World Wrestling Federation superstar...
Nobody wins a slam. Everybody wins a slam.
:)
cheers,
al boyd
http://perthpoetryslam.com
From a thread on Perth Indimedia
Whilst its kinda interesting to read the analysis of a slam here on perth indy, the point of a slam is NOT the competition. At all.
The competition is an illusion, a delusion.
Slam events are purposely designed to produce random judges from the folks in the crowd, ie not literary judges, not high-brow poets, not beret-wearing snobs! Although if those are in the audience then they may get to be a judge.
Its random. Its open and transparent.
Slams began in the 80s in Chicago as an attempt to get more people along to poetry readings. And it works!
For me: having organised hundreds of poetry events since the mid-90s - including dozens of slams - the idea of a slam is to bring people to poetry events. Not for poets to compete with each other. The competition is certainly tongue-in-cheek and just a way of presenting new work to new audiences.
A slam event takes poetry to a higher place.
For poets: its an opportunity to perform your work in bite-sized chunks to a decent audience of people who may not necessarily be poets. Its a chance to perform quality work in a quality space. To be the best poet YOU can be - not the Winner of the comp!
For those that want to win a slam: Please don't enter it to win! Enter to hone your work, to take the opportunity to perform new stuff to new people. Refine and polish, rehearse and edit, craft and shape etc... Be the best poet you can be.
For the audience: its an opportunity to be entertained by contemporary and exciting poetry. The competition factor is a ruse. A joke. A ploy to get people in the venue. And it works. Every heat of this series was booked-out. We even needed a TV in the bar for those who couldn't fit in the theatre.
And the best bit about slams: I get to declare the next poet like they were a World Wrestling Federation superstar...
Nobody wins a slam. Everybody wins a slam.
:)
cheers,
al boyd
http://perthpoetryslam.com
From a thread on Perth Indimedia
Labels:
antipoet,
performance,
perth performance poetry,
perth poetry,
poetry,
poetry slam
05 March 2009
them best poets of my generarion...
we witnessed the best bent minds
of my generation tonight
in an angel-brained blue room
spitting hammered bits
of ruptured angry hips
like burning melodies of atoms
a fix o' stars
our pheromonic language
at each others tattered
cotton fringe
this being the right room
for an argument
no it isn't
yes it is
innit
metaphorically starving, craving the
hysterically fully clothed pissing
analysing our hollow-eyed naked wardrobe
a capital new colour - a heaven
a silk ancient fuck
obey unshaven walls
obey
a clusterbomb
our daisycutter romance
chemicals, she said
no more war, she reckons
bleats like a vegan sheep
and
as we reboot our collective cock
into slivers of auctioned vaginas
glistening lips in cello light
a balcony of cigarettes
but yet we bled words
bold burned in wastebaskets, she says
a balloon for a smile
kite photos
never taken
its at least
a mile
a kilometre
a pounding dynamo
of stanzas of gibberish
a thud
this skin
a skillet
of image
our semiotic
penetration
a tearing
of skins
of werd, of meaning
a tanked-up clatter sentence
====
05.03.09
of my generation tonight
in an angel-brained blue room
spitting hammered bits
of ruptured angry hips
like burning melodies of atoms
a fix o' stars
our pheromonic language
at each others tattered
cotton fringe
this being the right room
for an argument
no it isn't
yes it is
innit
metaphorically starving, craving the
hysterically fully clothed pissing
analysing our hollow-eyed naked wardrobe
a capital new colour - a heaven
a silk ancient fuck
obey unshaven walls
obey
a clusterbomb
our daisycutter romance
chemicals, she said
no more war, she reckons
bleats like a vegan sheep
and
as we reboot our collective cock
into slivers of auctioned vaginas
glistening lips in cello light
a balcony of cigarettes
but yet we bled words
bold burned in wastebaskets, she says
a balloon for a smile
kite photos
never taken
its at least
a mile
a kilometre
a pounding dynamo
of stanzas of gibberish
a thud
this skin
a skillet
of image
our semiotic
penetration
a tearing
of skins
of werd, of meaning
a tanked-up clatter sentence
====
05.03.09
03 March 2009
Perth Poetry Slam 2009 FINAL - see hear touch taste and smell it
SLAM FINAL - Wednesday 4 March
These are the 12 finalists for the final of the inaugural Perth Poetry slam:
Belowsky
Karla Hart
Raageh Ismail
Gabby Everall
Mark Lloyd
Tiffany Ha
Paul Harrison
Elizabeth Tan
Stephanie Megatronn Low
Vivienne Glance
Jeremy Balius
Khin Myint
All welcome. Audience tickets are $5. The venue has limited capacity - so please book at the Blue Room website or phone the Blueroom on: 9227 7005
These are the 12 finalists for the final of the inaugural Perth Poetry slam:
Belowsky
Karla Hart
Raageh Ismail
Gabby Everall
Mark Lloyd
Tiffany Ha
Paul Harrison
Elizabeth Tan
Stephanie Megatronn Low
Vivienne Glance
Jeremy Balius
Khin Myint
All welcome. Audience tickets are $5. The venue has limited capacity - so please book at the Blue Room website or phone the Blueroom on: 9227 7005
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