Hansabibliothek REAL CHARACTER II

 

Readings & performances from REAL CHARACTERS II at Hansabibliothek & Cafe Tiergarden

Documentation by Hilary Jeffery 

Amel Baccouche, Kelly Ballett, Willie Brisco, Christel Conchon, Cole Denyer, Owen Fortunato Brakspear, Hilary Jeffery, Nat Kochan, Eleni Poulou, Tim Wolf. 

A proposal by Owen Fortunato Brakspear / Slub Press  Sunday, October 12th 1pm - 4pm at Hansabibliothek,  Altonaer Str 15, Hansaviertel, 10557 Berlin 4,30pm - 6pm at Café Tiergarten,  Altonaer Str 3, Hansaviertel, 10557 Berlin

 Supported by the PERSPEKTIVE Fund for Contemporary Art & Architecture of the Office for Visual Arts of the Institut français Germany, sponsored by the French Ministry of Culture, the Institut français Paris and the Goethe-Institut. @bureaudesartsvisuels With thanks to Leonie Herweg / Grotto, Elke Falat, Kristin Reinhardt & the Hansabibliothek staff.

For Mark Scott (draft/unfinished)

 For Mark Scott

Put out the lights of the last crimson star 

special prayers hollowed

death is death salutogenesis 

good health on the Red Road 

its premature mortuary scenery  

in the centre The Wealth Games 

with a common signet mouth of cortisol 

here is the tree that never grew 

here is the bird that never flew

here is the bell that never rang

region of hapless skin

burning envoi to working pattern 

inner Maslowian pyramid  

vertical list of failed kingships 

mourning cutpattern

black boxed militant death-drive

Soft water i (draft)

Wally close red stone 

tarriers in brinewet floodplain 

as if the floor was gulched by Orangeism 

thin little nags & wretched pallet crafts 

Lodge Laws collarettes curled circles 

old shoogly harebells 

& the twelfth Haberdasheries 

felled to a black flame 

the peace barrier curbside I sit

highscoring micro lots 

of small batched but barely living 

the most quiet cold fingered clyde 

chins a song for rent 

dreich, I can’t stand my own 

mind parading, fraternal drunkenness 

or cream yellow exile 

cold storage cutcross ripples 

or worm eaten low-capability

people ruin of air sprangled dogrose

hippidom mizzled the remaining

comfort space towpaths

oracling childstock 

least you're clear of chrome ballast

in the eternal allotments rising

the future different shades 

of tayberries & patty pans 

all else burning rings 

of idioglossia

on embroidered towels

BX Donkey God (re-edit)

 

Fishman on the table like Ducal rights

for later, with Belgium sausage 

& the onion costs petrifies the hands

nevermind show me Manneken Pis 

beheaded in the garden pond 

blanket weed dissolved ketje chains

in the heart Passementerie buttons 

blue silk lampas, embellished 

silver & gold thread 

white gloves strange 

hybrid shrine 

where cultural memory is housed

flowers in the jug on a city street

unstolen on Avenue Louise, the trouble 

with the underclass plebiscites 

from castrum to didaem Château 

remember The European Federation 

Bomzhes, the Polyarchies 

remember the wool meadows in rain sodden

remember Endland folly hardened & 

fallen off again to red faces 

EU umbrellas stalked in façades 

like bitter tithes 

this rapid transport system 

is plastic fresh its wrapper hidden 

in the columns  

Hill of Tears, runs down inside 

corner pavilions, down Louis XV-style 

bluestone doorways 

dendrochronological big ladle 

takes the Stoofvlees to my mouth

adopted Batavian ears, 

no one keeps old customs 

like a peasant.

(Pure Slaughter Value) 15.01.26 (draft/unfinished)

 

In lactic Moorgate lightketting breakouts

die-ins & blockades 

every inch of our antithesis  

the phone is bugged inside a door policy

of reversed starbursts 

the dead water leaks traits 

design out the undesirables

in the sky charter global enclave

corners cut to do this clandestine again

beneath the pavement the anti-fending

life scopic HeliTeli chaff tempered asphalt

if our resistances remain

of dark earths quiet common treasuries

then can you spot the

plain clothed officer? whirring gently 

anonymous with images

inside someone else's control room

a nerve centre ratioed the Servator map 

of the soul where snared friends 

turn shell groups 

cruelest one-upped subversives 

chidemarked festal sloop

from my hearts, rheumed 

reconnaissance abrades 

poverty's fugue 

(Pure Slaughter Value) 15.01.26 (draft/unfinished)

In lactic Moorgate lightketting

the breakouts, the die-ins, the blockades 

every inch of our antithesis phone is bugged 

to earlier monuments written inside

a door policy reversed starbursts 

dead water leaking traits 

designed out the undesirables

in the sky charter global enclave

from corners cut

to do this clandestine 

again beneath the pavement 

anti-fending life a carpark buried 

Londinium spiked some staged

choking scopic raged off

HeliTeli chaff tempered asphalt

if our resistances remain surveilled

of dark earths quiet common treasuries

then can you spot the

plain clothed officer? whirring gently 

anonymous with images

inside someone else's control room

fealty's cruelest pervert 

one-upped the subversives 

nerve centre friendly hostiles 

ratioed Servator map of the soul

where snared friends turn shell group

entirely spent festal sloops

from my hearts, rheumed 

reconnaissance barely braided

in poverty fugue

13/01/26

 The wicked people have annexed       

The verses on the good;   

A roaring drunkard sports the text         

Teetotal Tommy should!

Here is my hatred of appearances 

aloe vera’d hands open to burning 

in the mill of city point lights 

the sacred Elysium 

there are two paths before us 

an anarchist elegy mirror stage 

or to spiraling music Krishnacore 

you decide to count 

take promises out of them

w/ Djibouti sovereign wealth fund

turning aside thoughts 

formerly localised around

the heart to bilking thin 

against the light

of others nobody wants

to feel hated in the fear centre

nerve caissoned low drone bright 

translucent people

sober with badges 

The order of Forgiveness Mimesis 

Rivalry Sacrifice LTD

in a stackrung ascended

good as fatal stanchions 

hardlined in the hollow room 

probes your speech 

the lift of skin 

you move through 

in the external world

order stands now it means 

you have left the total of forgotten blame 

to not speaking hands trough motions 

the delicate reconciliations 

of your own life & of the cancelled

welts are still people,   

nothing is forever angelica root people 

drift away from people

the shore people 

the anomalous pain at the end of people 

a relationship of shilled nights 

in minus glue of self