Secret Sound Echo
A poetry league — open-mic nights, a live archive, and the records that come out of the room.
Out now
The record from the room
T'Aura
So…I Speak
So…I Speak is the first record out of the room. T'Aura hosts Secret Sound Fridays; the poems you hear on stage are the same voice behind this album, and Secret Sound produced it start to finish. Hear where the stage goes when it becomes a record.
So I Speak (feat. Isa)T'Aura
Next night
“What did you leave unsaid tonight?”
The night
Secret Sound Fridays
A room, a mic, and a secret prompt that drops mid-show. Poets, first-timers, and regulars share a piece and hear the rest of the room. What happens on stage becomes the archive — and, sometimes, the record.
Come to a nightComing
Secret Sound Sessions
Vol. 1 — poets from the stage, recorded and pressed. Get first access when it opens.
I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated. · I was not handed ink. I was handed a mouth and told to bleed politely. So I learned to hold myself like a nib — pressure, angle, the exact weight of not breaking. Every room is a page that never asked to be written on. Still I lean in. Still the line runs darkest where I hesitated.
On the stage