Avril 26, 2017 Kate Noakes


Kate Noakes is our featured poet  @ L’Openbach  on 4/26/2017 along with Carrie Chappell. Noakes will be reading and selling her new book Paris, Stage Left, Eyewear Publishing, 2017.

I am a poet, short fiction writer, novelist and elected member of the Welsh Academy.
My published poetry is as follows:
Ocean to Interior, Mighty Erudite, 2007.  The Wall MendersTwo Rivers Press, 2009.
Cape Town, Eyewear Publishing, 2012.   I-spy and Shanty, corrupt press, 2014.  Tattoo on Crow Street, Parthian, 2015. Paris, Stage Left, Eyewear Publishing, 2017.

My work has also been widely published in magazines such as The North, Poetry Wales, Mslexia, Planet, Poetry Ireland Review, Iota, Envoi, The SHOp, Magma, The Wolf and Poetry Salzburg Review, and in the UK national press. I have performed at venues as diverse as The Troubadour, Glastonbury Festival, the Poetry Society, Nottingham Poetry Festival and Henley Literature Festival.

I was founding President of Paris Lit Up, a not for profit literature organisation in the City of Lights in 2012.

I have degrees in Geography, and English Literature and a MPhil in Creative Writing and have taught creative writing for Oxford University and the Poetry School. My current practice is focused on contemporary culture and environmental matters.

For more info: boomslangpoetry.blogspot.co


Penelope: identity theft

I chose the hardest fibres
to strip my skin
jute, copra

to slice the whorls
from my fingertips
hessian, raw flax.

I am weaving lead.

Forth, back
the shuttle flies
the cloth wefted red.

Right, left
the pedals tread
my legs, my legs.

Sundown, yards done
well, not yet.
I sink on my bed
my head, my head.

The clamour from
the waiting boys too much
“Wed me.” “No, me instead.”

In darkest night
I cut the warp and pull
unthread, unthread.

My new skin
pricks with dread.

Avril 26, 2017 Carrie Chappell


Carrie Chappell will be our featured poet  @ L’Openbach  on 4/26/2017 along with Kate Noakes who will be reading and selling her new book Paris, Stage Left Eyewear Publishing, 2017.

Carrie Chappell is from Birmingham, Alabama. She earned her Bachelor of Arts at the University of Alabama and her Master of Fine Arts from the University of New Orleans’ Creative Writing Workshop. She has taught English Composition at Delgado Community College and served as Writer-in-Residence for Big Class. Each April, she facilitates the Verse of April project, a community catalogue of voices celebrating poetry. Currently, she lives in Paris as an English Language teacher and French Studies student and serves as Poetry Editor for Sundog Lit.

for more information: http://www.carriechappell.com/


6. once,

i// was a girl

to this day,

i// can be
on the subject
of canoes, camp-
fire songs, rope,
kindling. listen,

5. i// want to go away.


another breath, another bemoan—love
is an always crisis.         corn was never my credo,
so i// never went wishing for someone there.

you know where. i// cut a rug and ran into a
tapestrie. there joined the campaign, the
circus. i// mean, i//
began caring, became


minded. a careless. fucking joy-lover. joy-

digger. oh joy. ode.    odious.         oedipus.            i // think we are blind, that the directions to our best
regions are lost in our eyes. joy. is held in a sweaty
palm or in a green field of (ode to) soy. don’t listen. don’t look

for someone. for somewhere there. don’t go looking for it.
i// swear. it’s better to get lost on the little stuff.
to take the helm
of a candy bar. like. take me for instance,

a girl
at heart, wanting, what (?)
only a cookie
and to use my


4. from what i// remember, i// do know, do now

—bees do run
from snapping
fingers, snakes
from ground-
stomping, and kindness

above all, humility, too.—


you pointed me
down a trail. gosh,

thank you,


3. for pointing the way

to the future—

an american girl has options. a girl scout no less. has options, is what they’ll say.

and the dreams will ignite. and for some paris. for paris some
will ignite.

how to live it:

version 1: be a woman’s woman, but live for men, love the ones you’re with but also the far-aways. spend your time. telling everybody you miss them and then eat your blues in baguettes. own jewelry but wish to accept more, be bi-lingual curious! be baby-sitter swank! stomp the ground for snakes. wait for scooters, the kiss, the la defense legs, be ok with champagne pictures until. until. (*dream referred
to on most paris blogs.)


version 2: be a poet, ok, maybe just a writer, hang yourself up on homonyms, find yourself often taken with simple French rhymes: dommage chômage! dommage fromage!, be happy being cute for French men for a week until feminist moods set in, then find a new one, snap your fingers at the proverbial bees, be a functioning drunk, functioning introvert, try to break the stereotype.( *dream deferred, citation:
too difficult.)


i// think that’s it.

2. so, they shut me up in booze—and

i// am, i// professed, a troubled
roamantic—i// fit your—i//am the
daguerreotyped. as when a little
girl moves to a dream place,
calling yesterdays into—like

everybody i// sat upon a table, eating
mixed meats. everyone stood in my
way. and i// felt a friendly nothing. i //

had my tools—a set of earrings
succinctly wed to my lobes, a pair
of pants that blacked with every black,
and a you, distant person somehow
made into the criminal so i// could stand

away, spewing forth my jesus christs
just enough to make a small religion,
just enough to cast iron the long
breath of my short history. go. go forth, for christ’s sake forward, i// said

to myself, hither filth, fortune.

1. there, here—

with my planets arestin’ and my
chambers full of speech, i// lie
still in the thought of my many
shelters.          i// have fallen

where i// fall

and wandered out, a girl pulling
at her wet shorts tight and
knotting at the crotch. being
stranded wasn’t near as bad as
i// had thought, i// had lived and
tamed a many a thing. glares
more genuine exhausted in
their ravines, where trees
stand like old men, lampposts        poles to be
vaulted and i // a girl

scout sashaying where
bees grip
my ankles, picking with honey
spines the flesh i// i// i// storm(ed) in.

jacklyn janeksela 3/25/2017


jacklyn janeksela is our featured poet  @ L’Openbach  on 3/25/2017 along with Rethabile Masilo.

jacklyn janeksela is a wolf and a raven, a cluster of stars, & a direct descent of the divine feminine. she can be found @ Barrelhouse, Thought Catalog, LunaLuna Magazine, Talking Book Three Point Press, DumDum Magazine, Visceral Brooklyn, Anti-Heroin Chic, Public Pool, Reality Hands, Velvet-Tail, Requited Journal, The Feminist Wire, Word For/Word, Literary Orphans, Pank, Split Lip, Landfill, Yes Poetry, feelings, Heavy Feather, The Opiate, Potluck, Vending Machine Press; Civil Coping Mechanism anthology A Shadow Map & Outpost 19 Rooted anthology; & elsewhere. she is in a post-punk band called the velblouds. her baby @femalefilet. her chapbook fitting a witch//hexing the stitch forthcoming (The Operating System, 2017). she is an energy. find her @ hermetic hare for herbal astrology readings.

mental texting to the universe & beyond




why do i have to keep telling y’all

that my bones are your bones


the world:


some of us hear you, but most out here sleeping


the rest


the world


as any cricket

gnawing away


the tiniest




Rethabile Masilo 3/25/2017


photo by Sabine Dundure

Rethabile Masilo is our featured poet  @ L’Openbach  on 3/25/2017 along with Jacklyn Janeskla.

Africa’s song

–for Geoffrey Philp
The ancients never suggested death by fire,
being consumed by it, dying; the unbearable
reach of the bible, its dark truth; that was no fear,
nor were boots on our pavements. We were death
in another way, fire was not needed for our dying.
On a pathway or in the house everyone who died
was the kingpin of their kingdom, a forebear caught
between dogma and the meaning of Jah. But yesterday
was besieged by the chronicle of today, on pyramidal Nubia,
on turrets of Zimbabwe, which were turned into face-
less rudiments. Yet there’s a song to put all this behind
and that song, if you listen to it, inspires in you.


–from Qoaling (to be published in 2017)



Rethabile Masilo blogs at Poéfrika and co-edits Canopic Jar. He is a Mosotho poet from Lesotho and has lived in Paris, France, since 1987. His work has been published in various anthologies as well as hard and soft-copy magazines, including Canopic Jar, The Bastille, With Our Eyes Wide Open, Seeing the Unseen, Tears In The Fence, New Coin, New Contrast, Botsotso, Badilisha Poetry, and others. In 2014 his poem ‘Swimming’, published in New Coin Poetry, Vol 49, N°1, won the Dalro First Prize. The same poem won the Thomas Pringle Award for Poetry in Periodicals in 2015. He has also edited two anthologies published by The Onslaught Press: For the Children of Gaza, and To Kingdom Come (voices against political violence). Rethabile was born in 1961 in Lesotho and left his country with his parents and siblings to enter exile in 1981, following an attack on his family that killed his 3-year-old nephew, Motlatsi. They moved through the Republic of South Africa, where they experienced Apartheid, then Kenya and the United States of America, before he finally settled in France. In 2012 his first book of poems, Things That Are Silent, was published by Pindrop Press. The second book, Waslap, was published in 2015 by The Onslaught Press (it won the 2016 Glenna Luschei Prize for African Poetry), and the third, Letter to Country, was published by Canopic Publishing in 2016.

Khalil Anthony 1/24/17


Khalil Anthony is a poly-math. A multi-disciplinary artist working within varying mediums and media. His work investigates the relationships between the spirit and space, the black body, sexuality, and society, and the urban experience. Weaving together these artistic intentions through writing, dance and movement, acting, painting, arts-admin, education, and song; his work speaks to a diverse audience and varying communities.

Originally from Chicago, IL., he considers himself a writer primarily, and sees his writings as a vehicle to exercise his performance abilities and diverse organizational skills. Anthony recently published his first novel, Frederic Leon, simultaneously creating a publishing company, Urban Folk Books, which published Frederic Leon last year. He is currently producing a stage production of the themes in his novel, as well as finishing the script for the film, Frederic (2015).

As a musician, Anthony’s music is featured in an Emmy award winning broadband series entitled, Satacracy 88. His latest music project is entitled, train, UrbanFolk Music Project (ASCAP). As a singer songwriter, Khalil has penned two cds (urbanfolkmusic 2007, train 2013), and produced 2 tracks off of his lastest music project, train. His highly anticipated remixes with Scott thatmanmonkz will be released in 2014 under Shadeleaf Music in UK.

His writing can also be seen in Marc Bamuthi Joseph’s highly acclaimed hip-hop theater production, Word Becomes Flesh. Khalil Anthony has toured for the last three years with the Living Word Project, and Word Becomes Flesh. Anthony also serves as the Educational Director for the tour.

As a self-proclaimed galactic-artist, Khalil Anthony shares his talents throughout the world, making art honestly.


Athol Williams 1/24/17

I enjoy experimenting, trying things, trying ideas. This is how I learn.  I love creating.  And so my writing is experimental creations of poetry and social philosophy.  My poetry leads my pursuit of understanding just as imagination leads my efforts in social development. My scholarly and creative work explores structural processes and social institutions that may put humanity on a path to greater harmony and I delve deeply into the prospects of a new (or renewed) human consciousness that might make us all evolve to live larger, fuller lives. I focus on the actions that may lead us to greater socioeconomic justice in South Africa and elsewhere – this work includes business ethics and corporate governance.
I am currently a graduate student in political philosophy at Oxford University.  My graduate work explores the plurality of agents of justice and the background conditions under which economic institutions have a responsibility to act as more-than-secondary agents.  My professional background is in business, mostly in corporate strategy and finance.  My academic background is varied – political theory (LSE), public administration (Harvard), corporate finance (LBS), business (MIT Sloan) and engineering (Wits).  I draw heavily on this background in my academic work.  I am a member of the Scholars and Practitioners Network for the CSR Initiative at Harvard.
I have published 3 collections of poems and 2 children’s books (see BOOKS)   I have a passion for reading and education personally, and I recognise the vital role education plays in the pursuit of freedom and human development, hence my involvement in social change through education.  I co-founded Read to Rise, an NGO that promotes youth literacy.
I grew up in Mitchells Plain, Cape Town, and I’ve lived in Johannesburg, Boston and London.  I currently split my time between Oxford and Cape Town.
More information in PUSHING BOULDERS, my autobiography and on Wikipedia

Three Poets November 8, 2016



A disciple of the creative, I am inter-disciplinary artist who works with different mediums independently, but also in multiple fusions- incorporating written and spoken text, sound/music, and visuals. A nomad, I grew up in america but have lived for years in europe, including England, and France. During travels (including countries in Africa) I have met and collaborated with other artists, academics, who who challenge ‘frontiers’ (external borders as well as internalised) and are planting seeds. A science fiction nerd, I have always looked at ‘space’ as a place to realise and talk about possible futures. My publications and performances have been diverse. They include a series of audio-visual anti-lectures which explore memory, and nomadic subjectivity through a “afro-
futurist” lens. As I roam I have had the good fortune to perform, record, tour , publish and exhibit/ screen my work inVienna, London, Berlin, South Africa, Senegal, Kampala, Paris…


As we move, we leave

memory seeds behind.

These seeds fall in

unsuspecting places

later creating spon-

taneous ‘Settlements’ of








Michael Lee Rattigan has lived and taught in Mexico and Spain, and translated the complete collection of Fernando Pessoa’s Alberto Caeiro poems (Rufus Books, 2007). More translations have appeared in The Los Angeles Review, Asymptote Magazine, The Black Herald, The Fiend Journal, and in Selected Writings of César Vallejo (edited by Joseph Mulligan, Wesleyan University Press, 2015). His first poetry collection, Liminal, was published in 2012 (Rufus Books). His latest collection, Hiraeth, was published alongside its French translation in 2016 (Black Herald Press).




chrysalis-broken light    through morning sky’s

complete abstract image    speaks as we speak

with living sound    just born    waking

to each other


shore’s withered stalk    against blackness hung

known    as open air    we walked in

beyond italic sea’s endurance    flown memory

on other voices    more deeply human

than you or i


© Michael Lee Rattigan

(From Hiraeth, Black Herald Press, 2016)



photo Paul.jpg

Paul Stubbs is the author of three poetry collections published in Great-Britain – The Theological Museum (Flambard, 2005), The Icon Maker (Arc, 2008), and The End of the Trial of Man (Arc, 2015) – and of two long poems, Ex Nihilo and Flesh (Black Herald Press, 2010 & 2013). His poems have appeared in a variety of magazines, including The Bitter Oleander, The High Window, Poetry Review, The Shop, and the French literary magazines Les Carnets d’Eucharis and Nunc. In the past, he was invited to read his poems at Oxford University, at the Seamus Heaney Centre in Belfast, and in New York. He is also the author of a book of essays on Arthur Rimbaud, The Carbonized Earth; another book of poetical essays, The Return to Silence, will be released in December 2016. His forthcoming collection, The Lost Songs of Gravity, is partly based on the religious writings of Simone Weil.




The End of the Trial of Man

after ‘Blood on the Floor’ by Francis Bacon, 1981


‘Man is a beast of prey’ — Oswald Spengler


Upon these floorboards, amid the blood and

the death-throes of gods, the ‘rough beast’ has

eaten its last, has eaten and spat out man’s rib;


eaten and spat and stamped

down its feet onto the now crushed and un-

recognizable face-mask of Yeats:


one mile outside

of Bethlehem…


© Paul Stubbs

(from The End of the Trial of Man, Arc Publications, 2015)