OPEN MIC ARCHIVES
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
January 2, 2004
OPEN MIC ENCORE I
OPEN MIC ENCORE II
OPEN MIC ENCORE III
rise up!
you
my intimate
companions and
lovers
come to one who's
in dire need of
solitude
gather 'round in
silence
and simplicity
and attend
alone
this wild revelry
i invite you to
expect nothing
and receive this
magnificent
glorious
nothingness
that i know
-0-
Kids of Our Future
Naomi Meacham
I sit here and wonder of the kids I work with
Imagining a life...is this what really is?
I feel for many and hurt for others
But where are their families? Especially their mothers.
As time goes by and the kids move on
I hope they survive the world when they're gone
To change one's life in an environment so safe
Then out in the world, where safe had no place
The drugs and violence, the harm and deceit
Its hard for adults to stand strong on their feet
So many kids are put in a tough world
And left on their own to give life a whirl
So they mess up and do the wrong thing
The problem is, who is is to blame?
-0-
What would u do
Que
What would you do to get to the point in life that you wanted
to be
What would you do to avoid admitting defeat
what would you do to hold on to perfection
what would you do to avoid subjection
what would you do if you died right now
what could you do about it, how
what would you do for true love
what would you do for almighty god above
what would you do if things always went astray
what would you do if everything you knew went away
what would you do to avoid failure
what would you do to savor
what would you do if you didn't have control over the decisions you
choose
what would you do if you walked in my shoes
what would you do?
-0-
Everyone has vanished
And things look very bleak
Humanity's been banished
I'm alone with the echoing shriek
Crawling midst the email rubble
Looking for signs of life
Asteroid or nuclear trouble
Was it war or nature's knife?
The Omega Man has nothing on me
Though seventies apocalypses rock
Streets are clean and free of debris
Antiseptic future shock
Blaring Cher's 'Dark Lady'
Machine pistol in my lap
Sitting somewhere shady
Shooting at random crap
Just one email would sure help
As I gun down mutants bold
Living on tinned dog food and kelp
Watching the apocalypse unfold
Now you know my day so far
Oh won't you please write me
Main Force Patrol has taken my car
And I'm nearly out of brie
leereon
-0-
Bottuga Bottuga
Urchin of the sea
I saw you Bottuga
Playing with the waves, dancing in and out.
You had a thought in your steps
You had a longing in your nimble fingers.
"Will I ever get the things I want?
Will I ever be rich?"
Bottuga, what can I say?
You are so involved in wanting.
All you want can be bought
All you desire comes in time to each person.
But me? I have strength, insight and time
And a treasure of decaying dreams.
Because time has been kind to me
I have not asked for more.
Life has caressed me into sleepiness
And now my dreams have grown wings of fungi.
by Navneet Mahajan
-0-
Christmas
Jb
December 13, 2003
As a child I enjoyed Christmas, it was the most wonderful time of year
I remembered what it felt like to open my gifts with such pleasure and
enjoyment
I was never disappointed on Christmas day, I would always get what I wanted
The food was running out of my ears, we had so much to eat
Then I would always reflect back on those that did not have the toys and
clothes that I had got for Christmas
Or the food that I ate for Christmas, my family would always reflect on those
that was less fortunate than we were
Christmas is not about gifts, eating dinner, showing off what you have
Christmas is about love, happiness, sharing, being with the one’s you love
Yes Christmas is a very happy time of year for me
As I still reflect back on those that are less fortunate than I
Wishing and hoping that they to will find shelter and food
And to be with the one’s they love.
-0-
As the ref quails
The opponents bail
Out of the hopeless match
Done for after the amazing catch
The crowd goes wild
As the president was dialed
A goal spectacularly surpassed
As the medals were cast
Alex Knobel
-0-
Curtains open & sweep back
His illusion melts into thunderous tales of speckled darkness
Soft flickering magical verse live deep between desire & make-believe
His veil of camouflage fade into invisibility
He knows time is peace within the rows of silky night hiding, lost, under the
giant silver movie screen
Delicious scenes of thunderous light dissolve in a heartbeat
When the illusion ends he seeks refuge in the bland harshness of reality
Frank Catlin
-0-
Freedom is not free
Cam Church
So few people caring
Way too many angers flaring
Not enough countries sharing
The love we should be bearing
War's not pretty
War's not fun
Now another life is done
Families crying
dead bodies lying
My poem's rhyming
War's does not
The deadly fight the soldier's fought
-0-
My Senses
Tiffany
I hear a roaring crowd as I pass the ball
I feel wind rushing past me as I sprint down the field
I smell dirt ripped up from my cleats
I taste salty sweat as it drips down my face
I see the ball
I kick...SCORE!
-0-
Spring's Hail
Bill Albright
The old man dumped
his potatoes, thunder
echoed across the sky
bass drum boom, darkened
clouds chorused,
lightening flashed,
cool rain fragrance inhaled as
the storm plays
marbles on uncovered heads
as white knucklers,
white aggies,
white steelies
hit the barn's roof,
the shit filled pig lot,
splayin' the winter wheat stalks
to lie still, awaintin' the dryin' sun,
to rise again
wave another day,
and the kids ask,
What potatoes?
-0-
"Untitled #3"
Ken Gagnon
Miles fade into blackness
Like memories of a house left empty
And a constant jostling of his head against the window
Has dulled all sense of passing time
With the warm intermingling of a low-volume radio
And the subdued hum of a diesel engine.
He will continue to endure
The harsh hisses of opening doors
And the squealing strain of old brakes
Because somewhere in the distance
Moths dance excitedly against gravity's grip
And congregate around an illuminated entrance
Because somewhere in the distance
A light has been left on.
-0-
the divorce of figaro
jason polk
Poor little lost Figaro
Is there no one to dry your tears in Florence?
Northern Italy won't suffice
For your tortured dreams and broken ambition,
Take the pack mule to Rome
By the hillbilly light and abandoned railroad tunnels
Pass by the deserted sulfur fields with Matterhorn tomatoes
And Edna St. Vincent Millay potatoes
Wash your hands of violent intentions
The road to Pisa is laid with rose petals
And torn pages from the ancient text
Old rusted out tin can houses line the coast
While gulls feast on the carcasses of tuna and flounder
As the hot sun bakes them into the wooden planks
Of the fishing dock
Take my word when I say
I saw Dante asking the local fishermen whether Pisa was
A City of Man or a City of God
They had no idea who he was
Figaro, I saw you hunched over the side of the road
Near Benevento asking the field hands how far Gallipoli was
I saw your face sink into your skull when told,
Your pink flesh lined with age and dripping with sweat
Poor Figaro I was with you in Kansas last year
What you thought of American nights
I remember when you said
"O sad American night!
The night which keeps sanity in brown paper bags
In the aisle seat on the Midnight Express"
You forgot I was there,
The night you left for Gallipoli
With two brown, cloth suitcases tucked under each arm
And a worn pair of shoes on your feet
How you looked like a grizzled, old hitchhiker
On the way toward the end of the road
Toward that American night.
-0-
"America"
messa roquemore
America the Beautiful!
Where we were brought
And sold and told by Masters:
"Get behind be nigga"!
"For you are not worthy to walk beside me as thou we are equal"
"So plow my fields and pick my cotton"
"While I rape your women, sale your children"
"Kill you mother and your brother"
"When they are no longer of service to me"
"As your father looks on helplessly.
America the Beautiful!
Where I braved ancestors;
Died before us and cried before us
So we could proudly walk into a room
With our heads held high
And say:
We are America the Beautiful
Land of the free
Home of the brave.
-0-
A DREAM FOR RITA HAYWORTH
"Beauty is a simple passion, but, oh, my friends, in the end you
will dance the fire dance in iron shoes."
From "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" by Anne Sexton
by Sheila Dalton and John C. Meagher
You were beautiful, but I'll sing no odes to that.
It's been done to death already, as if your beauty were a book
without an author; and immaculate conception.
Or perhaps a plucked flower - snapped from its roots, and dying.
And though we saw you as a rose rising bloodily from thorns,
you were something of a poppy, tremulous and pale,
but without the steely seedpod, survival's guarantee
and nowhere in your slink or daring face
was either nature's truth, or yours.
And so I hoped for wisdom - visible in eyes grown quite ironic,
sometimes grateful, mostly sad -
that knowing look you'd always had,
transformed by something different now, more real.
But soon, peering from senility's soft fog,
your eyes were simply vast, and simply happy,
behind glasses thick as syrup, slipping slowly down your nose.
Was it us you gave the slip - men and wishful thinkers both
rendered powerless, obscure?
I hoped for that. And yet - longing is a complex passion
and, oh, my friends, in the end,
you may dance a jackboot jig in leaden shoes.
-0-
War
Katie De Angelis
Is war the best and only solution?
When war takes hope and light from every day.
Why can only war bring resolution?
Why is war the only possible way?
Why couldn't we wait for U.N assent?
Were we so anxious to get straight to war?
We kill our allies despite our intent
and greet outside voices with a closed door.
Does patriotism really imply,
that we must follow our leaders blindly and,
be against what we are really for, why?
What does democracy mean in this land?
That we're free to disagree and still be,
part of a nation with liberty.
-0-
As time through evolution
Swings the pendulum cycle
Makes us spiritually weaker
Through internal revolution
Physically weaker
Mentally weaker
Our lives shorter
We have become seekers
For the total solution
Through science, culture
Yea, even laughter
We have unearthed
Science and mirth
Cold fact together
In bad weather
And have in vexation
Contemptuous desperation
Profound agitation
And humiliation
Pressed coals for fire
And in that fire
Seething bright
Is there really light?
-0-
Who knocked?
Pearl Mitchell
Someone rang my doorbell.
Cautiously, I cracked the door
and looked critically around.
No one or nothing stood there.
Who had beckoned me?
With my short-sighted vision,
I saw nothing,
I heard nothing,
I felt nothing, and
I angrily closed the door
in the face of opportunity.
-0-
SLEEPING ON THE M25
Sally Ling
It seemed a good idea at the time,
a place to call her own.
Noise wasn’t a problem.
Seven children, one grandchild, dad,
umpteen pets, her ‘man,’ were all loud.
They didn’t name the house ‘Bedlam’ for nothing.
Lack of privacy didn’t matter either.
She just had to get away,
stretch her wings on the hard shoulder.
Oh yes, she would spread them for miles and miles,
she would fly, would be free.
And so she parked herself comfortably,
thermos in one hand, sandwiches in another,
waving proudly to all who passed by.
She made headlines -
camera crews arrived in droves, listened to her stories.
She became an icon, some said a freak,
people from all over the world came to muse her situation.
At last she was noticed as being someone else other than ‘mum,’
not taken for granted.
Not once did she have to sort out meals, the school run,
homework, problems, squabbles.
She was her own person, had escaped the rituals of home,
but at night, when all was gone, save the traffic’s timbre,
she snuggled into her sleeping bag,
exhausted, cold,
and missed reading the ‘kids’ a bedtime story,
missed the kissing,
the touching,
the human contact.
-0-
BEFORE CHATTANOOGA
Ed Markowski
Under red neon,
I ask the man;
he says: "About two mile
up the Old Lee Road,
then left. A green
clapboard shack
back in the wood with
a small cross out front.
They bang tambourine,
they sing,
they pray and smoke
pig all night long.
Pulled pig and a
passport to heaven,
for three bucks you
can't beat her.
Maybe you'll find it mister,
if this fog ever lifts."
-0-
The seas of change.
Eric Bryan Seuthe II
I look to the coast.
There used to be a mighty mountain there.
But the waves brought it down.
Some miss the mountain.
Some wonder what it would be like to still climb it.
But others gaze at the beach in joy.
Some go there with friends and lovers.
But in the end, the change is neither good nor bad.
It's just change.
-0-
OPEN
Letino Sullivan
This must be stuck just my luck I’m trapped
Warped up in the moment of tomorrow
Today wont let me out of my sorrow
I can borrow the key in my dreams
Even while reality seems
Like a nightmare yesterdays don’t scare me
But this moment bores me OPEN UP
I want out of this place where fake is real
And love only cares about how it feels OPEN UP
How in the world did I get stuck here?
Fear of trust must have lead me
Sunk me deep in emotion am I trapped inside a castle
Or just lost in a ocean OPEN UP or let me breathe life again
Emotions got me trapped deep within me my fortress
Built in only a moment but these walls are more then cement
there built of time and commitment all my forgiveness
-0-
Untitled Haiku
H. Rand Swansey
Gentle breezes, like
sighs, rise and fall, rise and fall,
before the clouds weep.
Quiet sun rises
and the fires of a billion
nightlights slowly fade.
Dragonfly skitters
along the algae covered
surface of the pond.
In a flash of gold,
a chickadee lights upon
a fragrant fir bough.
Green tea spills and spreads
across my table like a
newborn galaxy.
Like gossip mongers,
daffodils lean and listen
with their trumpet ears.
-0-
POETIC QUALITY
by David Lee Ward
Once, when very young,
I happened on a book of song.
Words written in such a way,
Which made me sing to my dismay.
Sing as though humming a tune,
In a see saw rhythm like a loon!
What was gained by rhythmic verse,
Gave me insight so I rehearsed.
Rehearsed verse of rhythmic frivolity,
Gaining future Poetic Quality!
Now being older and much bolder,
I dare to submit a singing folder.
Of lines singing that certain way,
My ears ringing my dismay!
Ears attuned to hear that rhythm,
All insightful for rehearsals given!
Knowing full well what I'm gaining,
Even now while I'm refraining!
Rehearsed verse of rhythmic frivolity,
Rhythmic frivolity with Poetic Quality!
-0-
N'AWLINS
Craig Steiger
Light as a leaf
The big sternwheeler
Turns on the river's bend
Sunlight swings to portside
Setting fire
To the red velvet chaises
In Beauregard's Bar
-0-
DIFFERENCES
austyn njoku
wouldn't it be nice
if we took time out
to flap with the butterfly
or dance with the daffodils
if we took a walk to
watch the moon emerge
from behind the clouds
to cast gold on dark alleys
wouldn't it be nice
if we focused on little things
that bring us close, warm and free
fair like lilies in garbs of white
carefree like unconsciously
touching your thighs or holding
your hands while gazing into
tomorrow telling a touching tale
wouldn't it be nice
if you forgot for a while
whatever your name is, or
whosoever you believe you are
and just enjoy this moment
with me in your nimble mind
to see my humanity in you and
know that there's no difference ...
wouldn't it be nice
if you touched my life
and i simply smiled to say -
differences can be golden influences!
-0-
After You Go
Colleen Spirelis
After you go...the
classroom seems so still,
and I hope you learned a little bit, I need a headache pill.
After you go...I pack
up with a sigh,
I know you think your homeworks tough, but mine's a mile high.
After you go...I go
home to my "other" two...
sometimes they think they've lost their mom to the 24 at school.
After you go..I pull my
hair right out..
"cause i forgot a million things that you can't be without...
I worry that you weren't at school,
that you don't have a certain tool,
Did the nurse ever find the gum in your hair?
Did you take your winter coat home to wear?
Missing lunch boxes, moving days, daddies who come home then go away,
I worry about every little thing that happened in your day.
After you go...I
fall into bed,
but I cannot sleep for the thoughts in my head.
I know there's someone who needed something more,
but in all the craziness went through the door,
at the end of the day...feeling neglected and lost...
and so now I'll pray for no such cost.
"AFTER THEY GO...WHEN THE LEAVE MY CARE,
LET THE LORD WATCH OUT FOR THEM ...EVERYWHERE.
MAY THEIR DAYS WITH ME BE WONDERFUL AND WARM,
MAY THEY FEEL CONFIDENT AND SPECIAL,
FOR IT'S ME THEY'VE CHARMED....
WHATEVER HAPPENS, IF I LOSE MY TEMPER OR YELL....
MAY GOD LET THEM KNOW THAT I LOVE THEM WELL.
I WANT GOD TO HELP ME TELL EACH CHILD WHAT I KNOW,
THAT I'LL LOVE THEM AND REMEMBER THEM...LONG...
AFTER THEY GO."
-0-
A SAMPLE OF HAIKU
Richard H. Williams
A woman’s presence
sweet and lust, inscrutable.
It keeps me in awe.
Tiger Woods is here.
Other golfers must beware.
He may win it all.
Portuguese Men of
War have deadly tentacles
just under water.
Anne Rice is now here
with her poetic vampires.
She has mummies, too.
Shirley Jackson, yes!
She is the mistress of fear,
the queen of haunting.
Lovecraft beats them all.
Other creeps imitate him.
Gives us the willies.
-0-
I shall die on a sunny
Winter's day, leaving undone
Or unfinished, all the dreams
That torment me now. He tried,
They will say, but he didn't
Try hard enough. Or: he lived
In an unfav'rable place;
No one could have done more, there.
Or maybe they won't even
Know, any more than i will,
On that sunny winter day,
With my whole fame behind me.
graywyvern
12 31 03
OPEN MIC ENCORE I
OPEN MIC ENCORE II
OPEN MIC ENCORE III
Poems copyright ©
designated authors 2004.
Page Copyright © AHApoetry.com 2004.
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