OPEN MIC ARCHIVES
July 14, 2008
immersed in blogs
window draws my startled glance
light sneaks in
- eric gray
TODAY IS WHAT DAY?
Shellie Machin
Today is a day which i will remember forever
Today will be the best day of my life
Today is the day things will change
Today is a day where lives will change
Today is a day full of fear
Today is a day of tears
Today is full of pain
Today will never be the same again
Today is MY day
Today will never be yesterday
Today will never be tomorrow
Today will always be today
Today my body throbs with adrenaline
Today is the day i evolve
What day is it today?
Is tomorrow today?
When will today happen?
What happens today?
Today is what day?
Within
Edward E Bortot
Rip my flesh from my bone.
Bury me and leave me alone with
premonitions of 18 vision stone.
The unmarked graves of unselfish slaves.
A reminder of dehumanization in back alley caves.
A savior in his mortality who tries to save.
A treason brought fourth on a black day.
A knife in the back that leaves a lasting display.
Two faces of the same individual leading in two different ways.
A faithless fling that sings with protruding force.
A life being a blemish on a disdainful course.
A stoic laughter in silence, trying to find its true source.
The grains of sands run through my hands.
A high stake life with death’s demands.
You are no more complex, than I am a simple man.
A POET
Roger Geaniton
To be a poet is to remain forever young
To understand the sun before the scholar’s words
To be able to sleep and to sleep again
On another planet in a secret meadow
To embrace the universe with tenderness
and to relish the impossible happiness of some crazy dreams
To keep doing tirelessly and always to welcome
every minute with an open mind
To be a poet is to dialogue with shadows and lights
To begin a bright day when darkness hangs heavy on your hands
To be a poet is to read new words on every face
To be a poet is to be able to say and glorify
To probe the abyss of the heart
To love without constraints to pine for love
To be a poet is to recognize oneself in the present moment
It’s to be fully alive
To be a poet is to stretch out the arms to life
To say life when the rabble death cries
To be a poet is to be born again every second
To be a magnificent tree in the valley of peace
THE CHALLENGE OF MY LIFE
By T A Ramesh
Poetry is the only breath of my life in the world
I feel not free due to the constraint of time
Time, the primordial fossil still controls all
But to overcome this precious thief is a great challenge!
Everything tried to fail me but not my poetry,
Which all the tricks of time can't stop altogether;
My sustained efforts now and then never got blocked,
But the outlet for my output ever remained closed.
That is the great challenge of my life;
But the free flow of my poetry never ceased to be impotent.
Are they a mere growth of weeds on acres of papers?
No, some soul would know the value of this pearl one day.
Poets write for recognition but not for rejection;
They pour out their heart in the poems pure
For the men of the world to appreciate one day
The man, the heart and the human sense in the words rare.
Is poem like any other product produced for profit?
Poems are the myriad expressions of the human mind.
That explores the unknown through the known words
Transcending human limitations to the limit of the Universe!
My curiosity led me to undertake this venture
The discoveries I express nobody seems to care
This is the greatest all time challenge of my life,
Which I would love to face sincerely and really!
Squirrel
- A.THIAGARAJAN
Examination hall
Question paper
Forbidding silence
Moving master..
Through the window
he looks at the mischief
of the squirrel on the twig - it looks
at him mockingly & nods its head & tail
The master, with additional sheets
some twine to fasten
the answer sheets-
the main book with the supplementaries..
Paper and the squirrel
the master walks here and there
and away at last..
he is now, though
not what he needs
THE MUSE AND I
Ibohal Kshetrimayum
The fairy poetess persuades me to coin a verse for her .
But I Can't find the muse .
I walk under the starlit sky and make wolf-calls to the freckled moon .
But the muse growls at me .
I lie on the hot sand and quarrel with the angry sun .
But the muse consoles me not .
The humming bird with fluttering wings ,
the grumbling wind blowing through the woods ,
the blossoming rose - which was only a bud yesterday ;
all conspire and humiliate me with relentless sarcasm .
I pinch the subconscious to arouse the conscious .
But the muse deserted me when I desire for it the most .
My stammering pen scrawls aloud the fractured words ,
making the stubborn muse laugh ,
with an amused mockery ,
over my frustrated musings .
We both transgress the laws of prosody -
the muse and I .
Love is like a Sea
Major Raymond Porrata
Love is a sea and it’s waves are its arms calling us to embrace
Love is a sea possessing life, strength, and beauty
Love is a sea surrounding us and inviting us to enjoy life
Love is a sea where it’s waters calm and cool our hearts with joy
But there are times the sea can turn on us and love evaporates up to the clouds
Leaving a sea dead, void of life, and void of joy
A lifeless body of water, bare, and lonely
Love is a sea and despite its lifeless waters love cannot be held back
It fights back and eventually love overcome death
Dark clouds and winds surrounds the sea embracing it and turning it
And as each drop of love falls back onto the sea
The sea’s love is restored and life begins again
So enjoy your sea of love
And may its love always carry you safely
And may it lead you to someone as special
As you
Butterflies
by PFC Julie Schleppegrell
Sanity of love
Myquanela smith
Love is my demise
My torture and my pain
It drove me far from sanity
And I am now insane
Love has embeded my skin
And now my heart is stained
Its left me naked and vulnerable
But I am not ashamed
“Selective Service”
Gerard Sarnat
'72, a Stanford student glued to Viet Nam (the center not
holding), pass-fail curriculum abandoned for life-death
antiwar mobilization 'til the endgame (med school, not
incursions) came, time to accept hard-won diplomas (or
not), take the Hippocratic Oath (primum non nocere, first
do no harm) which seemed so hypocritical: we supposed
scientist-healers inventing, even dropping napalm. Instead
of graduation, my friends and I celebrated by burning our
draft cards, Hell no we won't go; which led to the next
domino … Now an internal medicine resident, rebuffing a
proposed truce when the Brookline Mass board winked an
offer I surely couldn't refuse: “Son, after our exam, we'll
classify you 4F, declare asthma prevents any combat.”
But I did, advising that gomer colonel/MD to shove the
patently bogus diagnosis right up his @nus, make my day,
stick me in prison if a shrewd move for recruitment and
what'll follow tomorrow running on the Boston Globe's front
page, all about this young physician, acting on principle,
resisting the military's outrageous attempt to bribe him
to just go away.
Your hazel eyes
Broke my fall
Onto the premonition
Of the haunted day !
Framarz Bagheri
29. Such an insignificant; significant age.
The number that tells you all about the irrelevancy of past, yet all you were suppose to be
It’s like a time-out year between being “old” and just a kid.
Here I am….. Wife (1) Child (1) beyond that is left remained.
I am happy, nonetheless none to sure of where I was suppose to be.
29. An age that would say “you have one year before you are socially acceptable
Pressure runs high as you feel big changes must be made to omit big mistakes.
“Old” creeps in your mind.
Living standard: so obscure.
29. The thought of “true” family stems from your upbringing now evident
My ideas on family more profound and thought-out; but am I an inevitable by-product of my upbringing?
Do I love my parents? Respect them? Despise them? Resent them?
29. The year you say as an individual, what is mine is mine.
Powerful yet vulnerable:
29. Remember one truth.
Someone has been there before.
Instead of lies and denial
Except your open truth as just
Behold good things will happen
29. A number like all the rest
However, significant if relative to all of the above
Good luck.
Shaun
To my Doll, Lynn
KEN GILLESPIE
You were a light that I saw in the distance for so many years,
How was I to know that you would appear so brightly when I really needed you.
Your very presence has guided me through such a troubled and trying time.
Your loving glow has shown me what living could be.....should be....and would be.
The warmth of your heart and the tenderness of your carress has given me a new meaning in my life.
That warmth and tenderness has soothed my heart and given me directions I thought I'd never find.
Stay with me Lynn, be my partner, my soul mate, my wife, my everything. I love you, now and forever
THE LEAVES
Frank Stepich
If only the leaves do again one last Fall,
Reacquaint with trees from which born;
Bemask the boughs, the nest, the finch,
If they would entwine spring with fall;
A forever branch to be climbed,
A never-ending day to live;
If only the leaves do again one more,
Fall from the limb rendered as gift.
In A Place Where There Are No Rules
G David Schwartz
In a place where there are no rules
It’s not necessary to use the tools
You’ve cleaned and scraped and put away
In a place where there are no rules
Just walk around and mumble hey
And if you get real obnoxious
You can do something like this
Run all around
And yell out Hay
Every little difference
Goes and comes this way
He’s calling me, and you can guess the rest…!
To make all your wish to be done
D.Philomin Subbathra
Epigram – Motion
Breath breath,
Out I go,
Into a world unknown,
Participating in reality
None created by your own.
Koketso Marishane
I stand alone by a crowded street. I look at the mudstains on
my feet. Where have I been?, what streets I take. Are not compared to
the ones I make. As you think about whats inside. The gift that he gave
you is not denied. Yo encrypt a mind, or to search a letter. I really don't
think it's gonna get much better. At the end of course, you will truly see.
What this whole journey has meant to me. Was it a waste of time? or
a moment of clutter. As I stand in the Alley I start to shutter.
My mind shuts down, and its hard to speak. My arms start to dangle and my knees feel weak. I can see him now at the pearly gates. Ready to read me my mistakes. "13 years" says the man in white. " You'll serve in hell to make your wrong things right." I really don't think i'll need my sweater. As I ask myself now..."can it get much better?"
-Ronnie Luke Stahl
far-away, muffled freedom song
Palesa Leshoedi
Who, are you?
behind the composed reluctance you dish out...
who, are you?
who, are you?
when your distant eyes gaze blankly at me,
feeding me sugar-coated morsels
of your essence.
who, are you?
the world is lost,
a thick mass of complacency is the human state,
mankind consuming and regurgitating:
ideals opposing liberty.
self-imposed, life enclosed, in plastic nothingness.
give us this day our daily bread : compromise;
conscience numbed and subdued,
mind burdened in solitude.
who are we?
so far-gone that we forget,
demands of “living” leave little room for regret...
we search, and search in vain,
out here...in this cold world, it is lie who reigns.
truth is before eyes that shun her,
stone her ; an outcast to
the empty circle of our -
false existence...
thrust back to a moment before devouring betrayal,
I follow the silent voice within, and still...
“living true” is a...
far-away, muffled freedom song.
My dog
by Marina Vitagliano
I called him “the General”
For under his fur
A brave warrior
And a mild grandfather
Were living together
He never barked for food
Only some whistles asking for pats
As a reward for chasing a cat
The snow was slowly
Whitening his ears
But he did not care
His place was to be there
Behind the door
Not the flannel floor
Of his deserted kennel
And when time came to go away
He left his body on the gravel
Veiled by the dim ray
Of a December day
DEATH OF ME
Philip Hughes
My life is gone
Lost in the element of surprise
All is nothing
And nothing is constant
My soul has been severed
My heart raped
Love has killed me
I am dead
HATRED
Dr. Ram Sharma
You,
Can feel it,
In the shades of conversation,
On faces,
It creates a different line,
It is not created suddenly,
It,
Brings up in heart,
Like eggs of snakes,
It grows,
Try to,
Avoid it
That Heaven I Know
By: Angel Dominick
The places I go and the places I stay
Nowhere compares to here
Here where the sun shines every day
The birds chirp and the children play
Flowers bloom but nothing dies
Winter never comes
Just an endless summer day
Heaven to most but hell to some
When you feel the warmth on your face
All you behold is love
An endless war over there
Here nothing to fear
This is the place I wish to be for the rest of my life
But unfortunately nowhere beholds all this love and peace
As I wander on into this endless night
I wonder “where should I go?”
Just a lonely traveler no family or home
Nobody to love and nobody to hold
My life is just a living hell
Until I go to sleep
This is when I can go
Into that heaven I know
When I die I’ll be in peace
Into that heaven I know
She left a bit
of her soul
back on
the estate
where graffiti
was daubed
on the
garden gate,
and a bit
of her soul
was left behind
at her old
school desk,
with her
injured pride.
And a bit
at the bank,
her very
first job,
where she’d had
a crush
on handsome
Bob.
And a little bit
more, when
her husband died
and the
sheets got wet
from the tears
she'd cried.
And a bit more, still,
as the
debts piled up
though she hid
it all from her
children's eyes.
And she feels
she left
a part of her
at every
port of call,
and she mourns
the loss
of each little bit
of her sad
and
splintered soul.
THE BEACH
CHINAR MEHTA
As this memory fades into nothing
Nothing that it was meant to be
The way that destiny sought
Nature's law is fulfilled again
Everything has to end in nothing
I wasn't prepared for the dissolve
And yet, I had to let it go
Let it drift far from my reach
I had dived into the salty waters
Washing away my guilt into the sea
It hurts achingly, bitterly to swim
And yet it feels whole and clear
I have two coins and I throw away
Throw the rusted one into the waters
Away it flows there
I cannot see it, but I know i is gone
And I will not stop it now, not today
Without stopping my unknown tears
As I turn and walk away
Up towards the white sands...
Splinters not gathered and thrown away.
MGgt1
MY HAIKU
Dragan Milenkovic
Glance
Seared leafs
All migrate in no return.
As her Glance on me
Players
Autumn: the death looks:
two old man are playing chess
Until one pass away.
Same
New flowers on tree
of chestnut, across the street,
Grey just as I am
Zest
Swelter is reigning
Extracting from two of us
Devotion to sun.