Why hi,
We are back for season 45 (--45!), officially re-perched below the steeple at St. Mark’s & ready to go. The first brought-to-you-by-The-Poetry-Project-event will happen Wednesday September 22 (look below), but until then The Poetry Project will be participating in two events -- one sponsored by St. Mark’s Church (Sept 12) & the other by the HOWL! Festival (Sept 16). Details for those events are also listed below, or you can look at them on our Project Blog too http://poetryproject.org/project-blog. Seeing you soon!
Love,
The Poetry Project
WEDNESDAY SEPTEMBER 22 / 8PM
Peter Orlovsky Memorial Reading
Poet, singer, farmer, yodeler, banjo-picker, Buddhist-practitioner, Allen Ginsberg’s lifelong-companion, Kerouac’s Simon Darlovsky in Desolation Angels & George in The Dharma Bums, the generous & wonderfully whimsical Peter Orlovsky, (July 8, 1933 – May 30, 2010), was an unforgettable & hugely colorful presence in the East Village, and in and around the Poetry Project. Please join us in a night of music, video, song and poetry, as some of his closest friends pay tribute to him including: Chuck Lief, Philip Glass, Ed Sanders, Steven Taylor, Hal Willner, Janine Pommy Vega, Andy Clausen, Patti Smith, Anne Waldman, Gordon Ball, Rosebud Pettet, Simon Pettet, Bill Morgan, Anselm Berrigan, and John Godfrey. This event will take place in the Sanctuary. Admission is FREE.
SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 12 / 2PM – 4PM
An Afternoon with the Arts Projects of St. Mark’s
Please join The Poetry Project along with Danspace, Incubator Arts Project and St. Mark’s Church-in-the-Bowery for a “season launch” event on Sunday, September 12 from 2-4pm. Poets Kimberly Lyons and Douglas Piccinnini will give short readings. You can also meet some members of the Poetry Project’s new artistic support staff and Board of Directors.
THURSDAY SEPTEMBER 16 / 8PM
The 3rd Poetry Turn On for HOWL!
Poetry Turn On!
Thursday Sept 16, 2010
St. Marks Church in the Bowery
131 E 10th St
8PM-10PM
$8 general admission
For advance tickets / http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/124975
For more info check out HOWL! Festival’s site / http://www.howlfestival.com/
presented by HOWL ! ARTS Project 2010 to benefit THE ACTORS FUND HOWL ! H.E.L.P. Fund !
Poets Thomas Fucaloro, Meghann Plunkett, Jon Sands, Jeanann Verlee, Michael Warr of The Bowery Poetry Club, poets Steve Cannon, Steve Dalachinsky, Amy Ouzoonian, Susan Scutti, Chavisa Woods, RA (R!)Araya of A Gathering of the Tribes, poets Daniel Gallant, Vanessa Hidary, Mariposa, Advocate of Wordz of Nuyorican Poets Cafe, poets Bridgette Wimberly, Melanie Hope, Metta Sama of Cave Canem and poets Julian Brolaski, Joanna Fuhrman, Paolo Javier, Dorothea Lasky of The Poetry Project come together one night only to share their poems with you ! Hosted by Nathaniel Siegel.
Cash only tickets available at the door the evening of the performance.
Become a Poetry Project Member! http://poetryproject.org/become-a-member
Calendar http://www.poetryproject.org/program-calendar
The Poetry Project is located at St. Mark's Church-in-the-Bowery
131 East 10th Street (at 2nd Avenue)
New York, NY 10003
Trains: 6, F, N, R, and L.
info@poetryproject.org
www.poetryproject.org
Admission is $8 / $7 for students & seniors / $5 for members
(though now those who take out a membership at $95 or higher will get in FREE to all regular readings).
We are wheelchair accessible with assistance & advance notice. For more info call 212-674-0910.
If you’d like to be unsubscribed from this mailing list, please drop a line at info@poetryproject.org
Friday, September 10, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Part II A New Song
Part II Music
Sing sweetly
educe anemic from melody
baby stroke it close
burning my ear
soft vibes... one hears
bounteous new beats bouncing
lyrical stride flouncing
a tailored skirt
ripping seams floating
hard not to turn a stare
tinkle tipper
metal studded turquoise heeled slippers
down cobblestone streets
music fabricate butterflies
aflutter inside
an angelic tremor
discover a lucky leprechaun
the happiness of a musical soul
jigging at the end of life's rainbow
baby, baby come sing to me
come so close
touch, torch leaving me aflame
with your euphonies...
© 2010 Lepadah
Inspired by Aerosmith's "Dream On." Blasting Aerosmith on my ipod on the way to work.
From: trkyounger (trkyounger)
Last Visit: 11:29 AM
Posts: 2222
To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Sep 10 10 11:30 AM
Message:
55362.2 (2 of 3)
Reply to 55362.1
...beautiful.
peace
obatala
Is this a song?
new
4
I would love to hear you do this one in spoken word. Try it out and let me know I think you would do good at it. And the word educe what does that mean? Or did you mean induce. I will be back:)
Mona
reply
Sing sweetly
educe anemic from melody
baby stroke it close
burning my ear
soft vibes... one hears
bounteous new beats bouncing
lyrical stride flouncing
a tailored skirt
ripping seams floating
hard not to turn a stare
tinkle tipper
metal studded turquoise heeled slippers
down cobblestone streets
music fabricate butterflies
aflutter inside
an angelic tremor
discover a lucky leprechaun
the happiness of a musical soul
jigging at the end of life's rainbow
baby, baby come sing to me
come so close
touch, torch leaving me aflame
with your euphonies...
© 2010 Lepadah
Inspired by Aerosmith's "Dream On." Blasting Aerosmith on my ipod on the way to work.
From: trkyounger (trkyounger)
Last Visit: 11:29 AM
Posts: 2222
To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Sep 10 10 11:30 AM
Message:
55362.2 (2 of 3)
Reply to 55362.1
...beautiful.
peace
obatala
Is this a song?
new
4
I would love to hear you do this one in spoken word. Try it out and let me know I think you would do good at it. And the word educe what does that mean? Or did you mean induce. I will be back:)
Mona
reply
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
listening Led Z.
@ work listening to Led Zeppelin's version "Bring It On Home." The once recorded by Blues great Sonny Boy Williamson. Lyrics by Willie Dixon. The harmonica playing is so wickedly brilliant. Must mention these sick lyrics Billy Joel's "Captain Jack."
Saturday night and you're still hangin' around
Tired of living in your one horse town
you'd like to find a little hole in the ground,
for awhile..
So you go to the village in your tie dyed jeans
And you stare at the junkies and the closet queens
It's like some pornographic magazine
And you smile
(chorus)
Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push, and you'll be smilin'
Oh yeah,...
Your sister's gone out, she's on a date
You just sit at home and masturbate
Your phone is gonna ring soon, but you just can't wait
For that call
So you stand on the corner in your New English clothes
and you look so polished from your hair down to your toes
Ah but still your fingers gonna pick your nose
After all,..
(chorus)
[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/captain-jack-lyrics-billy-joel.html ]
So you decide to take a holiday
You got your tape deck and your brand new Chevrolet
Ah, there ain't no place to go anyway
What for?
So you got everything, ah, but nothing's cool
They just found your father in the swimming pool
And you guess you won't be going back to school
Anymore.
(chorus)
So you play your albums, and you smoke your pot
and you meet your girlfriend in the parking lot
Oh but still you're aching for the things you haven't got
What went wrong?
And if you can't understand why your world is so dead,
why you've got to keep in style and feed your head
Well you're 21 and still your mother makes your bed,
And that's too long
By Billy Jack
Peace enjoy the music..
Saturday night and you're still hangin' around
Tired of living in your one horse town
you'd like to find a little hole in the ground,
for awhile..
So you go to the village in your tie dyed jeans
And you stare at the junkies and the closet queens
It's like some pornographic magazine
And you smile
(chorus)
Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push, and you'll be smilin'
Oh yeah,...
Your sister's gone out, she's on a date
You just sit at home and masturbate
Your phone is gonna ring soon, but you just can't wait
For that call
So you stand on the corner in your New English clothes
and you look so polished from your hair down to your toes
Ah but still your fingers gonna pick your nose
After all,..
(chorus)
[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/captain-jack-lyrics-billy-joel.html ]
So you decide to take a holiday
You got your tape deck and your brand new Chevrolet
Ah, there ain't no place to go anyway
What for?
So you got everything, ah, but nothing's cool
They just found your father in the swimming pool
And you guess you won't be going back to school
Anymore.
(chorus)
So you play your albums, and you smoke your pot
and you meet your girlfriend in the parking lot
Oh but still you're aching for the things you haven't got
What went wrong?
And if you can't understand why your world is so dead,
why you've got to keep in style and feed your head
Well you're 21 and still your mother makes your bed,
And that's too long
By Billy Jack
Peace enjoy the music..
Thursday, September 2, 2010
CONGRATS T.Obatala new book "Stained with Light."
Congratulations to my fellow writer, friend and mentor T.Obatala on his new book of poetry was just released title "Stained with Light." I am so proud of you man. We are here. My book is due out this September and I can't wait to give notice for the book signing. Peace brother Obatala always 1. See you @ Quincy T's house.
Always 1 Lepadah
CONGRATULATIONS TO T.OBATALA!!!!!
Large cover
Stained With Light
By T. Obatala
Also available as:
Published: August, 2010
Format: Perfect Bound Softcover(B/W)
Pages: 60
Size: 5x8
ISBN: 9781450202503
Always 1 Lepadah
CONGRATULATIONS TO T.OBATALA!!!!!
Large cover
Stained With Light
By T. Obatala
Also available as:
Published: August, 2010
Format: Perfect Bound Softcover(B/W)
Pages: 60
Size: 5x8
ISBN: 9781450202503
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Daughter of the Ghetto
Brooklyn is like
layers of thick molasses
sticking to you
never thin
church bells ringing from the wind
where spirits spin
two story walk up
Mustafa hat shop and Islamic wear
Masjid At Taqwa
cross street
The Adhan
time, pray
beside papa
mama abaft
rug rolled out
hands rise
head down
head up
bow, bend knees
recite, recite
chant, chant
dance, dance
gather spirits
seven abound
seven all around
consecrated drums
papa's stories of Damballah
kicking kuku
jumping to chunks of cadence
prospect park
Conga square in the dark
"doobie, go low, low."
touch the earth
down, low, low
give it up to the God's
young feet sweep
accent space
Cora's babies
Great Queen Sengalese
yield a generation in America
promised papa a trip to Mecca
mama nursed stories to be told
while papa stretched goat skins to be sold
left drying in stuyvesant sun
congas waiting to be blessed
a garden for me
turning hoeing hard soil
picking burnt smoke pipes
bullets butts, tossed pennies
flourish fruits behind the slave
our house rocked
man! it was all love
mama the hipshaker
head jerking
snapping neck
to "The Big Pay Back"
there she goes
lordy have mercy
leg kick to the air
break down
to the ground
split
couldn't wait to snap crackle
finger pop
old, new, hip hop
doing the wop
lolloping, skipping in and out of turning loops
first pair bamboo hoops
jingling golden shine
jamaican dancing
Mr. Blake's backyard
Jamaica South Side
back to the crisp street of Bed Stuy
born to burn
born to pray
born to be
ceremonies born
Brook land Ghetto child...
© 2010 Lepadah
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Nominate for
spotlight:
8%
nominated
(This is your poem)
Subscribe
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Subscribe to: This post
Submitted by kailashana on 31 August 2010 - 3:30pm.
Nominated, ghetto child, I
Nominated, ghetto child, I can hear the rhythm of the streets.
~A
“Every individual matters. Every individual has a role to play. Every individual makes a difference.” ~ Jayne Goodall
reply
Submitted by poeticjustice on 31 August 2010 - 7:03pm.
Pardon my language but this
5
Pardon my language but this was fucking awesome…..I’m waiting for more….Blessed Be, Patrick
reply
Submitted by pleiades on 31 August 2010 - 7:20pm.
poeticjustice took the
poeticjustice took the words
right out of my mouth
one of the best pieces of writing
i’ve read in a long time
nominated
cheers
p
reply
Submitted by race_9togo on 1 September 2010 - 12:18am.
Hey
new
5
Rich, sensual, intricate, intimate and beautiful.
Nominated.
I think I will explore Brooklyn, on my next vacation.
Respectfully
Jim
“Laws and rules don’t kill freedom: narrow-minded intolerance does” : Race
From: SparkyDashforth (SparkyDashforth)
Last Visit: 10:21 AM
To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Sep 01 10 11:34 AM
Message:
55280.2 (2 of 3)
Reply to 55280.1
A brilliant masterpiece Lepadah.
Awesome writing.
I have one suggestion -
I would end the poem on the line
"born to be"
Bravo!
sparkus
5
Ive been to New York, a long time ago we drove through Brooklyn … and you make me want to go back and stop and feel the life that just seems to vibrate through your poem
as above have said … and I agree its the best piece of writing ive read in an age …
Applause
love JayCee
(“I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.” Og Mandino quotes)
GODISTHE1
Female, 49, Oklahoma City, OK
Posted 2 hours ago
This is NICE!!
dondagriot
Male, 49, Detroit, MI
Posted 14 hours ago
this one has my toes snappin. love the way weave culture so gracefully into this. so great your pen. much respect my quee
layers of thick molasses
sticking to you
never thin
church bells ringing from the wind
where spirits spin
two story walk up
Mustafa hat shop and Islamic wear
Masjid At Taqwa
cross street
The Adhan
time, pray
beside papa
mama abaft
rug rolled out
hands rise
head down
head up
bow, bend knees
recite, recite
chant, chant
dance, dance
gather spirits
seven abound
seven all around
consecrated drums
papa's stories of Damballah
kicking kuku
jumping to chunks of cadence
prospect park
Conga square in the dark
"doobie, go low, low."
touch the earth
down, low, low
give it up to the God's
young feet sweep
accent space
Cora's babies
Great Queen Sengalese
yield a generation in America
promised papa a trip to Mecca
mama nursed stories to be told
while papa stretched goat skins to be sold
left drying in stuyvesant sun
congas waiting to be blessed
a garden for me
turning hoeing hard soil
picking burnt smoke pipes
bullets butts, tossed pennies
flourish fruits behind the slave
our house rocked
man! it was all love
mama the hipshaker
head jerking
snapping neck
to "The Big Pay Back"
there she goes
lordy have mercy
leg kick to the air
break down
to the ground
split
couldn't wait to snap crackle
finger pop
old, new, hip hop
doing the wop
lolloping, skipping in and out of turning loops
first pair bamboo hoops
jingling golden shine
jamaican dancing
Mr. Blake's backyard
Jamaica South Side
back to the crisp street of Bed Stuy
born to burn
born to pray
born to be
ceremonies born
Brook land Ghetto child...
© 2010 Lepadah
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Nominate for
spotlight:
8%
nominated
(This is your poem)
Subscribe
Subscribe to this page
The master checkboxes on the left turn the given subscription on or off. Depending on the setup of the site, you may have additional options for active subscriptions.
»
Subscribe to: This post
Submitted by kailashana on 31 August 2010 - 3:30pm.
Nominated, ghetto child, I
Nominated, ghetto child, I can hear the rhythm of the streets.
~A
“Every individual matters. Every individual has a role to play. Every individual makes a difference.” ~ Jayne Goodall
reply
Submitted by poeticjustice on 31 August 2010 - 7:03pm.
Pardon my language but this
5
Pardon my language but this was fucking awesome…..I’m waiting for more….Blessed Be, Patrick
reply
Submitted by pleiades on 31 August 2010 - 7:20pm.
poeticjustice took the
poeticjustice took the words
right out of my mouth
one of the best pieces of writing
i’ve read in a long time
nominated
cheers
p
reply
Submitted by race_9togo on 1 September 2010 - 12:18am.
Hey
new
5
Rich, sensual, intricate, intimate and beautiful.
Nominated.
I think I will explore Brooklyn, on my next vacation.
Respectfully
Jim
“Laws and rules don’t kill freedom: narrow-minded intolerance does” : Race
From: SparkyDashforth (SparkyDashforth)
Last Visit: 10:21 AM
To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Sep 01 10 11:34 AM
Message:
55280.2 (2 of 3)
Reply to 55280.1
A brilliant masterpiece Lepadah.
Awesome writing.
I have one suggestion -
I would end the poem on the line
"born to be"
Bravo!
sparkus
5
Ive been to New York, a long time ago we drove through Brooklyn … and you make me want to go back and stop and feel the life that just seems to vibrate through your poem
as above have said … and I agree its the best piece of writing ive read in an age …
Applause
love JayCee
(“I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.” Og Mandino quotes)
GODISTHE1
Female, 49, Oklahoma City, OK
Posted 2 hours ago
This is NICE!!
dondagriot
Male, 49, Detroit, MI
Posted 14 hours ago
this one has my toes snappin. love the way weave culture so gracefully into this. so great your pen. much respect my quee
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Dope Utopia
Eye don't do dope
but pill bottles of hope
dream like a fiend
searching nights dream
visions of kahlo adaptation
life seen through
"El ojo avizor"
some super fantastic nightmare
edge cliff scare
living thru the dare
jump, jump...
paradise snake eyes
dream death rules the unknown
wanna gamble
you rather scramble
somewhere a desert
is waiting for me
feel the boiling earth
unquenchable thirst
inside chambered crevices
slither snakes spitting tongues
sticking they're prey
shoot a crippled eye
unafraid to view death
so malevolent a spectacle
stalking the assailable
tiny quadruped tangle string legs
fighting inevitability
crawling to spy another capture
turning back
sighted wings spread upon
screech a curse
jimi strung strumming out there
somewhere
claws protracted
a large bird swooping
plucked them crippled eyes
one at a time
pitted snakes wriggled apace
caress eyeballs
rolling around aimlessly
blind is thy heathen a crawl
scream silent desolation
blood pouring between them nasty fingers
no longer able to witness
killing in the chasm
eye don't do dope
just like to dream
outside the darkness
into utopia
© 2010 Lepadah
....this blaaaaaaazzzzzeeeeesss across the mind's third eye.
great
greater
greatest
one yet
Obatala
but pill bottles of hope
dream like a fiend
searching nights dream
visions of kahlo adaptation
life seen through
"El ojo avizor"
some super fantastic nightmare
edge cliff scare
living thru the dare
jump, jump...
paradise snake eyes
dream death rules the unknown
wanna gamble
you rather scramble
somewhere a desert
is waiting for me
feel the boiling earth
unquenchable thirst
inside chambered crevices
slither snakes spitting tongues
sticking they're prey
shoot a crippled eye
unafraid to view death
so malevolent a spectacle
stalking the assailable
tiny quadruped tangle string legs
fighting inevitability
crawling to spy another capture
turning back
sighted wings spread upon
screech a curse
jimi strung strumming out there
somewhere
claws protracted
a large bird swooping
plucked them crippled eyes
one at a time
pitted snakes wriggled apace
caress eyeballs
rolling around aimlessly
blind is thy heathen a crawl
scream silent desolation
blood pouring between them nasty fingers
no longer able to witness
killing in the chasm
eye don't do dope
just like to dream
outside the darkness
into utopia
© 2010 Lepadah
....this blaaaaaaazzzzzeeeeesss across the mind's third eye.
great
greater
greatest
one yet
Obatala
Friday, August 20, 2010
Texas Cowboy Singing to Midnight
midnight's ugly position
on such a lighted day
a lover distress
his prominent behest
so very pretty
the song
even the twang
cowboy sang
he wanted to bear
the burden of her solitude
just because
smitten
by the black kitten
rare in your world
sign nostalgia stuck in the pasteur
"we treat you white"
no color entry
redress musical notes
cowboy bed been tainted
once before stood a black stallion
rode bareback forcing submission
reckon he'll ride again
mama, papa had no idea
their son born to roam
outside city limits
believed to be one hundred
genetic soil not spoiled
by unwanted meadow muffins
an unwelcome guest
but so very pretty
her poetry
so very lovely
just call cowboy lucky
those honeyed thighs
belie
dreamed of licking her backside
fantasy entertain
without reins
awaken midnight
from her intoxicated sleep
voice punchy
prescription pills, booze
his recovery
unlike desire
shaking off truth with a facetious lie of laughter
steady sipping distilled spirits
cowboy crying on strings
for midnight to come someday
stay long enough to hear the guitar play
somewhere outside city limits
© 2010 Lepadah
Poems for Comment
Print Discussion
Texas Cowboy Singing to Midnight
Subscribe
From: (farkas)
Last Visit: 2:59 PM
To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Aug 20 10 03:09 PM
Message:
This stuff is loaded with
daring brilliance...
farkas
Hi Lepadah...
5
I was thinking of you last night…
Remembering one of your poems.
And now, I find this beauty…
a sweet Synchronicity-like happy happenstance!
Because this one is sublime, Lepadah…
(I know I say that about your poetry alot; but there it is there.)
…took me back to Texas, and you know…things. Things of the heart…
Exquisite work, Lepadah…
Raven
“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”
-Michelangelo
PS Your choice for the title is just right!
on such a lighted day
a lover distress
his prominent behest
so very pretty
the song
even the twang
cowboy sang
he wanted to bear
the burden of her solitude
just because
smitten
by the black kitten
rare in your world
sign nostalgia stuck in the pasteur
"we treat you white"
no color entry
redress musical notes
cowboy bed been tainted
once before stood a black stallion
rode bareback forcing submission
reckon he'll ride again
mama, papa had no idea
their son born to roam
outside city limits
believed to be one hundred
genetic soil not spoiled
by unwanted meadow muffins
an unwelcome guest
but so very pretty
her poetry
so very lovely
just call cowboy lucky
those honeyed thighs
belie
dreamed of licking her backside
fantasy entertain
without reins
awaken midnight
from her intoxicated sleep
voice punchy
prescription pills, booze
his recovery
unlike desire
shaking off truth with a facetious lie of laughter
steady sipping distilled spirits
cowboy crying on strings
for midnight to come someday
stay long enough to hear the guitar play
somewhere outside city limits
© 2010 Lepadah
Poems for Comment
Print Discussion
Texas Cowboy Singing to Midnight
Subscribe
From: (farkas)
Last Visit: 2:59 PM
To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Aug 20 10 03:09 PM
Message:
This stuff is loaded with
daring brilliance...
farkas
Hi Lepadah...
5
I was thinking of you last night…
Remembering one of your poems.
And now, I find this beauty…
a sweet Synchronicity-like happy happenstance!
Because this one is sublime, Lepadah…
(I know I say that about your poetry alot; but there it is there.)
…took me back to Texas, and you know…things. Things of the heart…
Exquisite work, Lepadah…
Raven
“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”
-Michelangelo
PS Your choice for the title is just right!
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