ALL THE PRESIDENTS WOMEN

Next show at the Yippie! Presidents Day, 2/21/11! 6:30-8:30!

Yippie Museum Cafe, 9 Bleecker St, bet Bowery & Elizabeth, NYC

FREE, but please throw something in the can for the Yippies! Coffee, tea, soft beverages available. Limited open mic, sign up early!


Poetry, Performance, Music, and More!
...Hosted by the one and only BIG MIKE!
...
Featuring the Beautiful, Amazing:

FAUX MAUX (Mo Kelly) - The consummate performance artist/actress/ playwright/writer - she has brought her awesomeness all over the world! Creates plays, performances, one-woman shows, and creative havoc of all kinds!!!! Author of NUDE ARTIST MODEL and many other performance pieces! A member of the DDAY Productions trio!

FIONA HELMSLEY - a thirty- something momshell, navel-gazer and recovering fun slut. Her first book, There Are A Million Stories In The Naked City When You’re A Girl Who Gets Naked In The Naked City was released last year. A writer of creative non- fiction and poetry, her work can be found scattered about the print and online worlds while her fashion sense stays static at whatfionaworetoday.tumblr.com.

NICOLE PEYRAFITTE - a performance artist born and raised in the French Pyrenees. She considers herself a Gasco-Rican (1/2 Gascon, 1/2 American) & citizen of Brooklyn. Her work draws on her eclectic heritage and addresses the experiences of negotiating her identity across two continents and four languages. Peyrafitte pursues related multi-cultural and multi-media investigations inspired by places, history, and gastronomy often integrate her voice, texts, visuals and cooking. She has two CD’s out “The Bi-Continental Chowder” & “Whisk! Don’t Churn”.

PUMA PERL – Poet/Writer/Performance Artist/Producer/Curator and co-creator of DDAY Productions and this event - author of the recently released book "knuckle tattoos," the award winning chapbook "Belinda and Her Friends," widely published in journals and anthologies, internationally! Creator of 6 Minutes and Cut and many other pieces!

REBECCA SCHUMEJDA - the author of Falling Forward, a full-length collection of poems (sunnyoutside, 2009); The Map of Our Garden (verve bath, 2009); Dream Big Work Harder (sunnyoutside press 2006); The Tear Duct of the Storm (Green Bean Press, 2001); and the poem "Logic" on a postcard (sunnyoutside). You can find her online at www.rebeccaschumejda.com. Currently, she is working on a collection of poems exploring the pool hall subculture, inspired by her short-lived experience as a co-owner of a pool hall.

BIG MIKE is the author of 2 books, 81 Pounds and Sibling Rivalry and appears in the anthology One Millimeter, all published by Pretty Pollution Press. Big Mike is known for his performance art and was awarded Best Neptune in the 2004 Mermaid Parade in Coney Island.See More

Without Scissors

The performance is the relationship.
Does that mean that the relationship is a performance?
It's acting. It's real. Good acting is truth. Good writing is truth.
Love/Violence is a new piece. I am afraid to show it to my (performance) partner. It is raw and exposes nerves guised in words and humor.
In "Scissors and Whoring" I read a piece about how it feels to sell yourself and your soul piece by piece while my partner cut my clothes off, wrote "whore" and "slut" on my body with a black sharpie and took photographs. I posted a photo on facebook and my account was immediately shut down.
In the new piece, there will be no scissors or sharpies. Maybe a camera.
There is compromise in the partnership but not in the piece.
Can the partnership survive the performances? Can we perform and produce without the partnership?
The boundaries of life and performance are fluid. Sometimes too much is exposed. Sometimes it feels courageous, sometimes it feels insane.

Love/Violence

The performance is the relationship.
Does that mean that the relationship is a performance?
It's acting. It's real. Good acting is truth. Good writing is truth.
Love/Violence is a new piece. I am afraid to show it to my (performance) partner. It is raw and exposes nerves guised in words and humor.
In "Scissors and Whoring" I read a piece about how it feels to sell yourself and your soul piece by piece while my partner cut my clothes off, wrote "whore" and "slut" on my body with a black sharpie and took photographs. I posted a photo on facebook and my account was immediately shut down.
There is compromise in the partnership but not in the piece.
Can the partnership survive the performances? Can we perform and produce without the partnership?

STAS NUKE

Stas Nuke and Shel Sheddy are two of the great photographers who showed up at the Yippie and generously documented the night. I haven't gotten any of Shel's yet, but here are a few from Stas.

WE HAD A DREAM COME TRUE

Best night of the DDAY Productions series EVER.
Not only did we have amazing features, some of the best performance artists in the world did the open mic, and two great photographers showed up and documented the entire event. I haven't gotten their pics yet, so am posting some of mine.

WE HAVE A DREAM, 1/17 at the Yippie

Pics from DDAY Productions at the Yippie Museum Cafe!

Puma Perl and Big Mike: Dr. Zhivago, Lara, and the Dead Poets

As Promised: WE have passed 750 views, so will be offering an encore performance at our monthly event at the Yippie Cafe - see previous post for details!

WE HAVE A DREAM

OUR NEXT EVENT
Monday, January 17, 2011 6:30-8:30

Yippie Museum Cafe 9 Bleecker Street (bet Bowery and Elizabeth) New York, NY

FREE FREE FREEEEEE
(but PLEASE throw something in the can at the door! Support the space!)
No alcohol, but coffee, tea and random desserts are available! ...

Limited OPEN MIC - Sign Up early!
Poetry, Performance, Music, and More! ...

Hosted by the one and only BIG MIKE!

Featuring the Beautiful, Amazing:

Elizabeth Amato - a writer, performance poet, filmmaker, director, producer, creator of the blog The Zesty Life (http://eamato.blogspot.com/) - She is a global nomad - you can find her in NYC, LA, London, and who knows where else!

Erica Miriam Fabri - a poet & performer & the author of "Dialect of a Skirt." She performs solo & as the hybrid music & poetry duo "The Robin & the Lady Poet." She teaches writing & performance workshops at various colleges & universities. She lives in the bright, shiny & beautiful land of New York City. Erica will appear with Robin Andre, a Brooklyn-born singer-songwriter, performer and recording artist. He was signed to RCA records for his debut album “Paper Bag” and has recorded, performed and toured in 32 different countries world-wide with multi-platinum artists such as The Dave Matthews Band, The Fugees, Mariah Carey, Lil Flip and Inaya Day. His solo work is a tight blend of rock, hip-hop and reggae sensibility. His newest hit-sensation single, “Betty,” is featured on itunes and he recently completed filming the colorful and funky music video by director, Jose Infante. Robin Andre, a natural entertainer, has also starred in off-Broadway musical theater productions, and worked as a commercial actor and professional dancer. He writes, performs and tours solo as well as in the duo “The Robin and the Lady Poet” and also can be seen performing live every week in his hometown with the iconic house band at the legendary “Village Underground” in Greenwich Village, NYC.

FAUX MAUX (Mo Kelly) - The consummate performance artist/actress/ playwright/writer - she has brought her awesomeness all over the world! Creates plays, performances, one-woman shows, and creative havoc of all kinds!!!! DDAY Productions, co-creator and producer!

Francesca Sphynx - a New York City Sateliites' based Poet. She writes from the discomfort of her current suburban home. She lives with her two cats, I mean, parents. She is recently returned from an explosive trip to NE Mississippi, and yes, she saw that gorgeous river!

PUMA PERL – Poet/Writer/Performance Artist/Producer/Curator and co-creator of DDAY Productions and this event - author of the recently released book "knuckle tattoos," the award winning chapbook "Belinda and Her Friends," widely published in journals and anthologies, internationally!

BIG MIKE - author of 2 books, 81 Pounds and Sibling Rivalry and appears in the anthology One Millimeter, all published by Pretty Pollution Press. Big Mike is known for his performance art and was awarded Best Neptune in the 2004 Mermaid Parade in Coney Island. Final third of DDAY Productions!


For more info about the Yippie: http://www.yippiemuseum.org/

Don't Miss OUr Encore Performance of Dr. Zhivago, Lara, and the Dead Poets!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3NY9O3GE7To

Karma's a Bitch and So Are You

I changed the title. It seemed trite. The title is Chloe's Ass, but Chloe is not a bitch, she's a rock goddess with an awesome ass.

Life would be simpler with an operational golden rule, but it's not the way lemon sherbert is measured out. Here's the poem.

CHLOE’S ASS
( with a big thanks to Courtney Love)

Chloe flips her blue plaid schoolgirl skirt into the air
Big Mike snaps at her perfect round ass,
Mary’s full gorgeous breasts, Rosabella’s shilouette,
and me
and me
and me,

and me, I am forever orange. Russian legs planted
on Aida’s shag rug as coca leggy Latina sisters
carve pork roast, race like happy colts
to la cucina for cerveza, guava paste, cigarettes

I was cute before I left home, now,
cheek to cheek with rock goddesses
my skin folds, Chloe calls me Mommy,
I zip camera case into motorcycle leather,
bus ride through Chinatown, pearls
roll under our feet, slip through our fingers,
discolored by regret and lemon juices,

I still walk fast and think faster,
my eyes tell stories you can’t understand,
Karma calls your name at midnight,
pray to your Gods, not mine,
shoot contrition into collapsed veins
recite poems to a lonely doorman,
betrayal laced with cum shots and pussy
opens like a broken umbrella, spokes
chipped and snarling, and me, and me,

I am forever orange, telling stories
you won’t understand, Karma’s
waiting under violet streetlights,
go on, take everything…
take everything…
take everything…

© puma perl, 1/14/11

Puma Perl and Big Mike: Dr. Zhivago, Lara, and the Dead Poets

Dr. Zhivago, Lara, and the Dead Poets is a sort of "signature piece" for me and Big Mike. It's a tight five, doesn't require any special props except for a simple costume, and is our most popular video. I wrote it after watching several versions of Dr. Zhivago with Big Mike. Coincidentally, the English remake, starring Keira Knight was on last night.

I had wanted to do a new piece based on the murdered Portuguese gay activist/journalist, and his boyfriend, who cut off his balls with a corkscrew in a midtown hotel. I didn't know about the corkscrew, or that the young would-be model boyfriend is now claiming that his act was an effort to "cure" the older man of his homosexuality. The story gets better and better. Big Mike feels that the Yippie Cafe stage is too small for the piece, which involves a lot of movement, and that we should save it for RevJen's antislam at the Bowery and we haven't done Dr. Z in a long time. I'd been promising that we'd reprise it when the video reached 750 views, and it's only at 730, might be at 750 by 1/17, I guess.

The Dr. Z piece seemed so daring the first time we did it, which was at Viviana Grell's yearly midtown show at some comedy club. She remarked afterward, "That's what you get from people with no boundaries," which was funny at the time. I don't even know if Big Mike pulled my bra down in order to write a poem on my upper body. This was before we took the "scissors series" to the ultimate level, or maybe we haven't reached the ultimate level yet.

See Dr. Zhivago Monday, 1/17/11, Yippie Museum Cafe, 9 Bleecker bet Bowery & Elizabeth, 6:30-8:30, free with a suggested donation of whatever you can afford to support the space.
This month's show is called We Have A Dream and features Elizabeth Amato, Francesca Sphinx, Erica Miriam Fabri and Robin Andre (The Lady Poet and the Robin) and Faux Maux.

Coney Island is for Lovers

Lola Star (http://lolastaar.wordpress.com/2011/01/08/calling-all-coney-island-lovebirds/) invites everyone to submit a story about love in Coney Island. A gift certificate will reward the most romantic story, and all who submit are entitled to receive a free tote bag.

I do not for a moment think this is the most romantic story, but it is sort of sweet. I'm not with the guy any more, and I could tell Coney Island stories about almost every significant relationship of my life, but this entry reflects a story I've always wanted to write.

We met at the Siren Festival. I thought he was laid-back, turned out he was just hung-over. David Johansen hugged Sylvain Sylvain, and I wondered aloud if we were the only ones in the crowd who remembered Max’s and Johnny Thunders. I used to go out with Cookie Mueller he replied, which I thought at the time was amazing because I had a huge girl crush on Cookie back then. Turned out he talked about her all the time.
You can’t put your arms around a memory, David sang, as we exchanged contact information. We’ve gotta stay connected, he said. Not too many of us left. He offered me a ride back to the city on his Harley, but I declined, as I was wearing shorts and flip-flops. The next week, he came down from his place upstate and we rode to Cape Cod. The following winter, I quit my job and we put around 10,000 miles on his truck and bike, trailing/riding it around the country. We continued our road trips, but we always went back to Coney Island. Even though we’re not together any more, he calls as soon as the weather turns mild and says We gotta take a cruise out to the boardwalk. I always agree, but we haven’t done it yet.

Puma Perl and Mad Anthony at Lix Kix 2nd Anniversary Celebration, 2nd ...

Remembering a fun time in Cleveland. Mad Anthony is an awesome punk/speed metal type band and they had never played behind a poet before. Since they came up to perform at the reading, it seemed like a no-brainer to me. We had never met before and this was totally unrehearsed. They are SO cute.

I don't have the energy to post anything new because I am weirdly sick. The worst of it happened while watching Black Swan last night. I left dizzy, with a pounding headache, one of the few, apparently, who did not really care for the movie. I got sick of Natalie Portman's face and was let down by what was supposed to be a "hot" lesbian scene. They didn't even show anyone's tits, not even in the constant dressing room scenes, let alone the sex scenes. I expected more from the director, Darren Aronofsky. I loved The Wrestler and Requeim for a Dream, both of which were brutal when they needed to be.

I saw The Wrestler on Christmas Day, 2008, saw Crazy Heart Christmas Day, 2009, which I dubbed The Wrestler: Country Music version. In its own way, Black Swan is The Wrestler, ballet version. Not about comebacks, but there are other resemblances which will not be noted, as I do not want to be a spoiler.

naked without clothes

naked without clothes

catch me on the wall

naked in my clothes

I can’t stop the snow

or you

we lie on cracked boards

touch to stay alive

I wait for the moon
or maybe it’s the sun

I can’t stop the morning

or you

© puma perl, 1/6/11

The Star Whackers

Is anyone as fascinated by Randy Quaid and his wife Evi as I am? I was right in the middle of reading the long Vanity Fair interview when I was ushered into the dentist's office to have an extraction, which I did not have, because I had a melt-down instead. So I never finished the article and probably have to find another dentist because I think they're getting sick of my histrionics and they are also way too expensive.

Even though I am broke, I will buy that copy of Vanity Fair if it's still on the stands, if only to have permanent ownership of glossy photographs of the 47 year old Evi posing in garter belt and hat. I thought I was the only one in that age group that did that, although, admittedly, I never modeled for Helmut Newton and I don't wear hats. Well, not often.

Randy and Evi are either sharing the delusion of being persued by the "Star Whackers" - who are responsible for the untimely demise of Heath Ledger, David Carradine and many others - or she is orchestrating the entire event. Poor Randy seems to be the follower in this dance. Drug use definitely plays a part, but is there the possibility of folie a deux - a rarely diagnosed mental disorder in which two people, usually but not always a couple, share a delusion, generally based on paranoia? Folie imposee describes a situation in which one partner imposes the delusion upon the other.

I am trying to figure out a performance piece based on my new favorite couple but have not gotten past the title. I have been fascinated by the syndrome since I heard of it and wrote this poem back in 2007.

FOLIE A DEUX

Folie á Deux:
a madness
shared by two.
Beliefs unwired
transmitted untamed
binding, relentless
minds united
in folly
insane and glorious

Folie á Deux:
a dance for two
partners swivel
spin and pivot
reverse slide
side to side
syncopations
combinations

Folie Imposée :
illusions induced
partner follows
turn patterns
progressions
tempo of
leader’s strong eyes
knowing hands
drop and catch
shoulder check
hesitations
isolations
visionaries
dance as one
partner tumbles
falls to floor
leader
dances on and on


Folie Simultanée :
partners
sway as waves
tenderly
rock delusion
into sweet madness
red satin hips swing
stilettos spin
feet flare hair whips
spirits converse
with God
imagine
dancing souls

some call it love

© puma perl, 3/07

Bowery New Years Day

No onstage pics yet for several reasons - Big Mike could not take any because he was performing with me and had his hands full cutting off my clothes and improvising - side note, I wonder - since he carried me offstage with one hand over my mouth and the other one up my pussy, was it an x-rated performance??? Anyway, not included in the one album I've seen. We also co-hosted, but since the creator of that album hates me, she managed to post pics of Big Mike CO-hosting by himself.

Bowery Poetry Club, Dark Matters, 2-12 (ran over), 150 scheduled poets, and 30 open mic slots. You get a serious 3 minutes - a siren will blare and the mic will shut down seconds later - so you have to hit the audience hard with something that will grab them and that they may even remember. There are also a lot of drunken attendees, the place is packed, the bar is jumping, so if you don't grab their attention, you may be drowned out by noise and activity. Last year, I grabbed them with my performance poem The Perfect Man, which is in the archives. I developed the idea for this year's piece at the 2010 show. Since The Perfect Man was under 3 minutes, I had brought along a very short list of ridiculous surreal resolutions, in case I wanted to fill in the time. I didn't use it due to the tremendously enthusiastic response to the piece - In fact, Gary Glazner came up shortly afterwards and referred to me as THE PERFECT POET of the day.

So I had this brainstorm - write a list of resolutions that starts out in a mundane fashion - i.e become a better poet, etc - and quickly launch into absurdity while Big Mike creeps up to the stage and starts to cut off my clothes. At the time, I imagined that I would wear pants and he would cut off my top and maybe my bra. We started using the concept in a variety of ways - played for laughs, and as a deadly serious dramatic device - Mike threatening me with the scissor, cutting off a piece of my hair, writing on my body, me winding up naked - part of the freshness of the piece is that I never know exactly what he's going to do.

The prose was perfect because it didn't matter where I left off - if I had too much time I could improvise, if it stopped midway, it was unimportant because it's just a list. I hope they don't censor the video in the archives. If I ever get pictures, I'll post them, including a couple from that day. The first photo posted is backstage with Amy Uzi, who performed "Princess" with Big Mike in his slot, and the thired is with Faux Maux, who performed an excerpt from her longer piece, "Nude Artists' Model."

First Poem of 2011

This was written 1/1/11. I thought I might be starting a new 30/30 - just because - but I seem to have become distracted. Yesterday was the weird death day and this morning I have to have the oral surgery I've been putting off.

New Year's Eve day, Big Mike and I saw the one of the saddest movies I have ever experiences - Blue Valentine. The fact that it was an excellent movie with amazing acting and a smart script made it even more depressing. It inspired my poem, which, hopefully, is not an indicator of the year to come.

BLUE YEAR

You chased trains
Took beatings
She clung
You loved You loved You loved
Who you are
Always forever
Anger behind her eyes
like raisin oatmeal and ice water
She has moved beyond indifference
Cries when you touch her
in the blue room
You beg her to stay
She runs into the void
of not you
Not You Not You
Was it the song you didn’t sing
The cigarettes you smoked
She rides buses
You chase trains
You love You love You love

© puma perl, 1/1/11

The weirdest day

I was going to post my first poem of the new year and/or a review of Dark Matters, Bowery Poetry New Year's Day Marathon, including the performance piece I did with Big Mike, Scissors and Resolutions.

Then I remembered why I feel weird on January 2nd every year, and every year it's the same - I don't know why I feel weird and then it hits me.

Jonathon Grell was born 1/2/52 and died on 2/21/95. He was the father of my son, Louis, and shot himself two days before my Louis' 21st birthday. We had not been together for years, and had not been in touch very often that particular year. I was angry at him because he and our son were estranged, and I felt that it was his fault. Despite the anger, I wanted to talk to him about it, but kept delaying the phone call; obviously, it was never made. The phone call that I did receive came at 4AM and was from Louis: "Jon passed. He shot himself in his car."

January 2nd is also the anniversary of the day that my daughter's father, Edwin Albert Gomez, died of an accidental overdose of heroin. I'm not sure whether it was the heroin that killed him, or the fact that he fell out in the bathroom and cracked his head open on the bathtub. So much for the myth of a peaceful OD. We were not together either, but were in touch. He was born on 5/15/55 and died 1/2/86, at the age of 31. Our daughter, Juliet, was 6. This time the phone call came from Carmen, Eddie's sister; I believe it was also sometime in the middle of the night.

My book, knuckle tattoos, is dedicated to the memory of both of these men, who, in their own ways, brought love and meaning to my life, and gave me the greatest gifts, my son and my daughter.

This pantoum was also written in their memory:

processions through haunted streets: a pantoum

it was always a midnight phone call
Carmen’s voice choked with tears
Eddie’s head hitting the bathroom tiles
somewhere outside a red door slammed

Carmen’s voice choked with tears
i heard her through the turquoise telephone
somewhere outside a red door slammed
my body’s impression faded from the battered couch

i heard her through the turquoise telephone
i’d been dreaming of graveside dances
my body’s impression faded from the battered couch
Jon held a gun in his tired shaking hand

i’d been dreaming of graveside dances
one hundred black umbrellas swaying in the rain
Jon held a gun in his tired shaking hand
Eddie wore a suit in a box without his shoes

one hundred black umbrellas swaying in the rain
a woman with long braids, voice lifted to the sky
Eddie wore a suit in a box without his shoes
Jon slept beneath the roses waiting for the flames

a woman with long braids, voice lifted to the sky
a procession winding slowly through the haunted streets
Jon slept beneath the roses waiting for the flames
it was always a midnight phone call

© puma perl, 11/17/08

Last Poem of 2010

As promised, to you, my invisible audience, the last poem of 2010, a dark New Year's Eve. Today I will be performing a new piece, "Scissors and Resolutions" at the Bowery Poetry Club, will post tomorrow.

WAITING FOR THE NEW YEAR

Obediently,
I wait for permission to surrender.

My compulsions clutter the air with words and
eyes, nightmares, knives; another year rolls
past my wandering feet. I promise you, I
promise that I won’t leave this time, but I lie,
I lie, I lie down on mirrors and memory,
Chance lost like fillies on a running track,
and I remember, I remember my hands,
no longer my hands, I remember my legs
climbing mountains, I remember blood
stained arms and empty sockets, today
is the end and I’ve grown tired of my
skin, and of sleeping with Renoir on the brown
couch, no dogs barking, no footsteps, invisible
before the camera; I pledge my submission
to the ground, you may keep my burnt skies
and scorched questions, my lips are burning
as we move closer to resolution, I promise
you and again I lie, I lie on shards of glass
and broken book jackets, and I remember
the way you touched me in parked cars,
and I remember your hands were mine,
and I remember your eyes falling
like apples, and I wait for permission
to surrender, obediently, I wait.

© puma perl, 12/31/10