Tag Archives: Spoken Word Paris

And then began the whole mad swirl of poets and words, guitars and accordions and all of what was left in Paris of my mad poet friends, who sweltered in a cellar beneath the Lizard Lounge to spin tales and … Continue reading →

A cracking night, thanks all who came for making it that. Over two hours of continuous poetry and song, broadcast by phone to Norma in the Alps – we should put one of these nights out as a podcast. Naomi’s … Continue reading →

So. The Spear Danes in days gone by and the kings that ruled them had courage and greatness. The Ogre, that mead hall held in high esteem, a fine house wherein to hear the tale of Grendel told on Woden’s … Continue reading →

… somewhere under the 14th arrondisement. The square cut stone tunnels like some tomb, some long dead corridor in the soundless heart of a pyramid. 18 of us made the descent, 18 of us made it back, through a hole … Continue reading →

The Paris streets were like a ghost town last night – everyone was indoors watching the great Sego vs Sarko debate. But in the Ogre à Plumes Spoken Word filled the upstairs bar for an intimate gig that spilled out … Continue reading →