Tuesday, May 19 2009 @ 01:05 AM MST Contributed by: noah
The Buffalo Readings
The Buffalo return to the surface of the city in a new location in Brooklyn
ready to connect with minds with a house band bringing Poetry and free groove stylistics
for everyone looking for an auspicious beginning to Summer's in the city!
David Acevedo
King Otho
Noah Levin
Callahan & Friends
Poetry & Music Open Mic
Sunday, May 24th @ 7pm
59 Jefferson St
#302
Brooklyn NY
Free and Open to All!
J, M, Z to Myrtle Ave, walk a block and a half north on Jefferson and ring the buzzer.
Fire steals in seething moment. Passion
is needed tool that must be expressed or
urgent need to action that explodes skin
in creativity.
Violently create,
spill soul and thought onto paper and
create where there wasn’t once. OUT
OF NOTHING -something that always
existed in the future perhaps. Large
swath of brush out of mind.
All consuming.
No one wants to pay me but I must.
Spare some food into an artistic cup? I
think music and write rhythm thought
because god made me this way. Tap,
tap, tap and spray my brains on paper
for all to see as best I can abstract cut
up of what I was trying to tell you.
Multiple dimensions coming and going
because black and white never existed
except in cliff notes version of life.
Hard experience grime under finger
nails is the pushpull tug of war that is
all time ticks on by and lost pages of
book floats away but I keep on
shouting. This is what I have damn it.
Starring at silence. Don’t know
what to do. Heart pulls in directions
perhaps not understood yet seems
predetermined in its own way.
Inevitability seems to be direction
flow that I can’t pull away or let self
break on the rocky shores. Passive
yet not fully content. Anger swells
waves, puts fire under march
towards what? Checked off a lot on
that checklist now and that leaves
this bag of goodies half empty.
Open opportunity that perhaps I
don’t understand; the pious hates
downfall as just reward. Precipice
without answers, the wind is empty
engulfing sound yet I listen to the
howl of the gale on the horizon all
around me. Mutterings in my head:
A last winter's night in Portland, before Dusty heads off down to New Orleans. The show was over, but Dusty didn't want to stop. Gaylin danced along, leon hung out cool against the wall, walt wailed on the harmonica in the back, me, i picked up my camera, lit with the lonely light from passing cars, closing club, and the shell station across the street.
Yes, you heard right! Come on down this Saturday January 10th to catch some of the best poetry & live musical mayhem at the grandest and most chaotic free-form & free for you Open Mic in NYC, right on down at the Bowery Poetry Club. So come on down, watch the mass explosion of art, take part in the good vibes, grab a frothy libation and jump on stage with us!
Saturday, January 10th, 2009
6pm-7:30pm
Bowery Poetry Club
308 Bowery
Between Houston & Bleecker
New York, NY
Free!
Featuring:
Daniel Carter - Sax, flutes, reeds
Demian Richardson - Trumpet
David Schnug - Sax, flutes, reeds
David Patrick - Trumpet
David Moss - Bass
David Miller - Drums
Susan Kramer - Vocals
David Acevedo, Noah Levin, King Otho & Kevin Callahan - Buffalo Readings Poetry, Blues Harps, Korg DS, Graphical Designs & Shakuhachi
& most importantly YOU!
I've chased my roots, back to flourcent lights and cash registers of westchester
wondering about authenticity, arguing with a women who hides her craziness except since she's been comfortable enough to openly avoid my eye contact, about how sweet I can be.
3 months seems to deem the time in which one can establish the farce that is a modern life, away from demons, possesing me in new york city, away from yearnings of the road, away from large white elephants, never forgetting, always feeding (other people, not itself)
reminding me of conversations about open relations around a camp fire in colorado as the sun came up, and I met magic's horse before I heard him strum a string and the son-of-a-bitch farted as he walked past. Taunting me not to take it so seriously as we piled back on the elephant at 8 in the morning with signs of divorce in the redding hills behind the westward tee-pee rocks.
Radios blast, and its a lost image. I write, it become untrue, and true again, like the tides I go insaine at the full moon.
I've been reading tarot cards, a zen deck brought the group to its second, sacral chakra. Orange, like myself, creative and sexual. I wish to find a place to dance half naked tonight. Fully naked is not yet nessary. That can wait till we've been here for 6 months, and I'm fully insane, or sane, depending on how well this job goes and if I can get a hold of holding onto some money.
Constumer service is no big deal, i'm a man of the people as I explain to them its cheeper and smarter in the econminy not to hire me for the job I'm here to do. You can do it better yourself if you apply yourself, how do you think I got this job in the first place?
They told me I could be management in two years. I puked into my mouth and swallowed. I hope he didn't see it with his third eye. Working this long, drinking this much coffie, I wonder if he's capaable.
We all used to be in media, but retail is steadier. We hate it just the same, but do it anyways.
I produced public access and talk about god with my boss on the phone. THREE days in I was in charge, aware of what I had to do, until the cops busted the door down and I cried 'I'm innocent." They heard it before, I"ve said it before, but this time its true. Not inncoent of my relations, but of my realtions misdoings.
Maybe its a trap. Maybe its for the better. Either way, I can still write.
Either way, it's still right.
I met a man on the road,cover by grey clouds, surronded by his will. I pulled him out of my body and he turned to translucent light. Evil has a way of leaving me impaired. Selfish and imparied.
I've already started writing hikus at work.
"Got a paying gig.
Black pants, white shirt, red apron.
Oh, I've been framed"
He warned us. He oft spoke of the coming of Korg to the DS, and what poetic-o-audio possibilities it would mean. We would laugh, "Sure Dave, a Korg synthesizer on the DS. Like that'll ever happen." Well, lets just say that if you're gonna eat your hat, boil it in chicken broth and salt it well.
Kate is another long time FOTB, and also family in more ways than one. She graced us with her presence at a Buffalo Bowery Open Mic, and laid down this awesome piece.
To which I responded in their forums. I now await my response to be approved by their moderators, but in the interest of not letting good words go to waste, here is my response reproduced for you dear reader:
What does it say to our enemies, when instead of going after them, we use them as an excuse to steal their neighbor's oil? When we use them as an excuse to severely limit the rights and freedoms that make this country the shining beacon of hope of the whole world? When the administration reads predictably from the play book of fear and greed that benefit the few privileged instead of the needy masses? When time and time again, the "small government" types bloat government to scary levels? I believe that contrary to your argument, our treatment of this disgraceful leader has shown something to the world, that America is still a glorious place where those who claim power, cannot ultimately squelch the will of the masses. And that hope for a free and better world still can and must prevail.
Happy Halloween everyone! To celebrate the spooky event King Otho and I joined Callahan at his place to party until dawn at his place in Brooklyn. There was a spooky house band playing music so Otho and I read some poetry for the patrons!
King Otho reading poetry!
I was a drunk Doctor Doom
The house band was haunted and rocking! Check out Callahan as a Zombie St. Francis on the drums!
Monday, October 27 2008 @ 12:03 AM MST Contributed by: kingotho
Yup, here it is, the embedable Buffalo Quickie Player, courtesy of YouTube. Have the entire Quickie playlist, wherever you want it! Just copy and paste the code from the player below into you favorite website, blog, myspace, etc!
Sunday, October 26 2008 @ 09:49 AM MST Contributed by: kingotho
You can now watch all your favorite Buffalo Music and Poetry Quickies right on YouTube!
Just go to the new Buffalo Readings channel at: http://ca.youtube.com/user/buffaloreadings
Give 'em some views and ratings, and spread the word!
Friday, October 24 2008 @ 11:45 AM MST Contributed by: fleecebeast
Welcome back to the Buffalo Quickie. We've been on a brief hiatus while King Otho's computer was packed up, but after seeing this week's poet, I think you'll agree it was worth the wait. Presenting Jeff Cottrill and his magical piece: Party Like Juan. If you want more of Jeff, check him out at http://jeffcottrill.coffeehouse.ca
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