OPEN MIC ARCHIVES
OPEN MIC ENCORE I June 6
OPEN MIC ENCORE II June 6
OPEN MIC ENCORE IIi June 6
June 6, 2004
Iíve watched you grow from boy to man
In which I hope Iíve played a hand
From diapers to tuxes Iíve seen them all
With pictures to prove it hanging on the wall
You have given to me many years of joy
Started when I held that little boy
His scrapes and scratches were always sealed
By little kisses they quickly healed
Fears and doubts your mind would play
But as you grew they went away
Sometimes I would yell sometimes I would shout
To show you the way to remove that doubt
I might have been wrong I might have been right
There was no book to show my plight
Your commencement is not the end
Its merely the beginning youíll understand
Into the world you must go new problems will abound
But you will handle all them well as I have always found
I have tried to teach you my thoughts on life
Hoping to help with your struggles in life
Some may be wrong some may be right
Its up to you to run or fight
Youíll make mistakes Iíve made my own
But all in all youíve really grown
Into a man honest and brave
In which I hope a part Iíve played
So excuse me please when they call your name
If I yell and shout and act insane
Tears of joy may fill my eyes
As I finally breathe with one last sigh
My son has graduated and Iím so proud
No other dad there will yell so loud
William R. Lutz
LIP SAI LIN
OUTSIDE THE SEA
A BIG SHELL
THIRSTY MOUTH WIDE OPEN
INSIDE THE SHELL
FOR A FAN
TO LISTEN TO
THIS LOST PART OF THE SEA
Jane Louise Wyckoff
purple pink green gold
on white sand
alone I stood watching
a water color of life
Let's consume and devour this void we call life
I dream of foggy, dewy Frisco dawns
Where everything seems to dissolve into one big conglomeritic bliss
No human intervention could ruin this beast, feast of beauty and perfection
I wish you were alive,
I would intercept your untimely, inexpressibly sweet wisdom and tenderness
I wish I were past,
A stillness of light would catch me and callously destroy my ephemeral being
Let's consume and devour this void we call life.
MY ART WORK
I smear indigo with the palms of my hands, onto my life,
Like the paint brushes of Picasso, upon the white board.
Tranquility unfolds its wings within me.
I smear crimson upon my peaceful nights
As I blaze in fury;
My heart, unforgiving.
I smear turquoise on my serene ocean,
Allowing my tears to trickle down my cheeks
As I taste the saltiness of misery, in my heart;
I smear cyan upon my soul,
Naming it joy as the color soaks into my tiny universe.
My past, cremated, my present glittering, my future, dazzling;
I smear lavender upon my heart
And listen to the whisper of love;
A leaf, feathering my face with gentleness and affection.
I smear snow from my head to my toes
And sunlight into my digestive organs;
Now I have the seasons to enjoy.
Too much love
My heart aches from too much love.
An Ďabsoluteí familiarity is tiresome.
An unconditional love that is unending.
Everyone seems to know when I am hurting.
Everyone wants to take care of me.
Supportive and generous, they all are.
Yet, I am unspoken for, and endlessly amused.
Love does not finally satisfy, or permanently wear.
I accept love as a commodity I stock.
When I should be giving it away.
By David Lee Ward
A tremor in the members causes shaking,
With paralysis, every step causes quaking!
When both occur together one needs to be alone,
To assume the safest position, that being prone!
Soon this position will be last in the list,
Of having control of how one moves or exists.
Like the Frankenstein monster, slow stiff steps,
No grace, no balance, no coordinated step!
My Neurologist calls it a form of nerve palsy,
I agree with her of course, still itís lousy!
For someone so young to be afflicted so soon,
Unfortunate for me, which causes my gloom!
There is no cure, so I lie a wake nights,
Or walk the floor, not giving up the fight!
All day I plan to avoid the strife,
At night I know my quality of life!
I walk amongst them,
But I am not one.
I have to act like someone else for you,
Just to notice me in the hall.
-Damn KidÖjust going through phases.
Itís always look like this,
Act like that,
To be one of the group.
A group of mindless cattle going to the slaughterhouse.
-Damn KidÖjust wanting to be popular.
But I will resist conformity.
Conformity will make you an empty shell,
With just a black hole of emptiness in your chest,
Nothing is important to you.
-Damn KidÖdoesnít care about anything.
I love her,
But it doesnít matter,
Itís all about looks.
She might love me back,
But it wouldnít look good to show it though.
-Damn KidÖmind not on their studies.
All this jungle is sex,
But I have broken free.
I know none of this matters in the long run,
So I say this,
ďNever stop acting as who you are!
They will try to break your will,
Resist at all costs!
Express how you feel!
Never stop trying!
Break all social classes.
Break all ďnormalĒ states of minds.
Live hard and die old.
Do what you feel like.
And never forget,
Weíre all Goddamn Kids.
by Bill Albright
Dame Fortune paused when I hailed her recently
Speeding past me seemed such a shame
As I stood in the shadows where Miss Fortune had placed me
And even I could not recall my name.
This was one try, a last chance
To have a moment center stage in the spotlight
Where even without a name, attention would enhance
A solitary silhouette, frozen with fright.
Journeyman has journeyed far
but still he cannot speak
of what life is about
or how to mend the leak
Sure, he's got some scars
and his skin tells us some truths
but rarely did he ever find
a way to break his roots
And now I think of him
and that I will not end up the same
I'm going to live somehow someday
Break the endless cycle of mundane
I could write and write
and write and write and write and write
but pixels wont tell me much
No, pixels cant tell me much
Howard Trey Cook
It has occurred to me that I no longer exist
I walk through empty rooms of my life
Empty rooms I never filled
I was never happy nor was I needed
Everyone forgot about me as if I were a bubble
When I popped no one noticed I was gone
As my body lied on the ground rotting
No one noticed the smell
As I enter into the last room of my life
I see a cold and forgotten figure lying on a bed of nails
He didn't seem to care
But now I notice that is me
Living in a world of forgotten dreams
Where's the Love from a father?
This man I know,
He has no heart
This man I know
his soul is dark
He's not been here
for such a long time
My life kind of slacked
I became more rebellious
as he was jealous of me
I'm not to blame, He once
was a father but not no mo
In my own house I feel at war
They say I'm a child and not to
talk back but I don't give a crap
In this country of mine citizens have
the right to have freedom of speech
and much more, so I cannot hold back
on what I gotta say.
By John Bender
To myself I will follow my lead
Bring down the walls that I build
Come with me to feel the feelings that circle my life
I look down that road that I slowly travel down
Far into the distance I start to see a shadow emerge
A figure of disbelief and hatred
Yet I wait to see two of them the other much nicer
The empty blue sky shall await my company
Combined with many souls waiting to be released
They shall have another try, another walk down this road
This time they will pick different paths
Many roads have street signs yet many donít
My way is followed by luck and trial
That will eventually come to end
May this road T off into another that is filled with joy and happiness
But for now I shall keep walking and forget some things and remember others
I shall pray that I will walk down the right path and never stray
As for the other will guide me to my restful peace
EBONY S. BEAUFORD
WHO EVER SAID THAT LIFE IS EASY.
LET TAKE A ONE ON ONE GUESS.
LIFE CAN BE FUN OR IT CAN BE CRAZY.
WHEN PRESSURE RISE IF TURNS OUT TO BE A BIG MESS.
LET'S PUT LIFE TO THE TEST.
RESEARCH THE OUTCOME
FIGHT THE TEMPTATIONS AND BE THE BEST.
YOUR COURAGEOUSNESS IS THE HEART OF THE DRUM.
YOU ARE THE STATISTIC, SEARCH, AND SOUL SURVIVOR.
YOUR PRIDE BUBBLES HIGHER.
LIFE IS WHAT YOU CRAVE.
SHAKE OFF THE BAD THE GOOD IS WHAT YOU SAVE.
THE TEST IS DONE.
NOW EVALUATE YOUR LIFE IT HAS JUST BEGUN.
John f. conley
Sleep is a woven blanket of
suspended consciousness my mind
pulls up around itself each night,
and under the cover of abstraction I dream
Sleep is laundered each morning,folded
neatly,and set on my mind's shelf until
Once, I accidentally misplaced sleep in
my underwear drawer, I had a headache for
two days that felt like an elastic waistband
tied around my brain
With These Eyes
I've seen the Sun bathe in the sea
setting to dusk , slipping with ease
as if the salt and surf would cure
tired this star, the day endured
Shadows arrived and spent some time
relaxed moments as we'd unwind
sipping green tea to soothe and bring
peace, tranquil, it's offering
The path it laid and stayed the course
for feet that followed with no remorse
to ease their sole of steps it took
to cool their jets wading in brook
Eyelids did close that needed rest
their day was long as was the tests
where sight became what so did tie
all that you've read seen with these eyes
Everything in Vein
At Einsteinís speed
I steer the mind ship
Across timeless waste
Between the stars
I am swept up
Into high adventure
Thrilling and saving
And the globe
I sing and dance
With words and song
That give the kids
An even break
Tracked and checked
On someoneís screen
I am a missile
Warm and hungry
By the arm
I am riding high
With the master
Dreams are our sonata
Each night a composerís stage
Every moment is its own aria
Free of sadness and of age.
A world is treated as clay
When sleep washes us clean
Constraints of reality, slip away,
But lucid memories are all we glean
So we do recall awkwardly, all day,
Beautiful things we havenít seen.
By DC Whitehall
I DONíT WANT APOLOGIES, GIVE ME RESTITUTION
FOR OUR ANCESTORS BEING SNATCHED FROM THEIR HOMELAND
NEVER TO BE SEEN BY THEIR FAMILIES AGAIN
PUT ON A BOAT GOING WHO KNOWS WHERE
LETíS BE FOR REAL, YOU DIDNíT CARE
ON THE BOAT SOME OF US, GOT SICK, GAVE BIRTH, AND EVEN DIED
NO MEDICAL CARE, AND JUST ENOUGH FOOD TO SURVIVE
SOLD ON THE AUCTION BLOCK LIKE A PIECE OF MEAT
THEN TAKEN AWAY WITH CHAINS ON OUR FEET
TORTURED, BEATEN, AND EVEN RAPED
OH, WHAT A HARSH REALITY WE FACED
I DONíT WANT APOLOGIES, GIVE ME RESTITUTION
FOR ALL THE DRUGS YOU DROPPED IN OUR HOODS
WE FELL FOR YOUR TRAP AND THERE YOU STOOD
My Life As It Stands
My life as it stands, astray, and amiss,
My life as it stands, a ball thrown into emptiness,
Happy as it may seem, my life turns into steam, every day,
My brothers and I may never be the same.
As teen years go by I isolate myself from my once frame of shame,
Humiliation takes over and controlled my life.
I try to pry away from that shame not by getting high, or being
Mr. Tough guy, but to be friendly,
trying to be understood, not to be overthrown by some undertaken
As time goes by, to the retreat of my home full of tender loving people
I live knowing I will be bullied through my extended school years, and
some day, understood by those who misunderstand my true feelings about
But until then, bring it on!
Rhythm and Blues
Kelly Ann Malone
Born from adversity. Gifted declarations of hurt.
Gritty riffs that bleed anguish into delicious sorrow.
Chords that pull at the heart, peeling torment layer by layer.
Exposing their deepest, rawest pain to the cadent beat.
Revealing to all their shame, neglect and rhythm.
Throbbing chords, healing, mending, and forgiving with every stroke.
Pulsating notes of blue and deep purple, in the lamented squall.
Openly scarred, vulnerable and naked.
Fresh anguish soothed by slow, cleansing respirations into a harmonica.
Silken guitar strings, plucked by remorseful fingers, pleading forgiveness,
accepting defeat. Groans of regret channeled into these bodies by God.
Smooth, liquid, melancholy lyrics spike the tone like bourbon on ice in
It wakes the spirit, challenges our defenses. It is the purest form of
Salve for the soul. Close your eyes and look inward. Feel your suffering in
Thereís glory in percussion, redemption in the bass, credence in the piano.
Early Morning Whispers
I sat in silence when you killed me with your words
Feelings of stupidity left no room for hurt
I caught my dignity as it fell to the dirt
Evil rolled from this tongue and never faded
Too sharp and fierce to be recreated
And I pray to the heavens above that I be redeemed
My crying soul screams to be released
No question my presence wont be seen
But I find myself repeating the same scenes
Whispers in the early morning for my love and affection
And I oblige with no such thought of objection
It painís oneís eyeís to look upon their demons
But it must be done because we act with no reasons
The man thinks without him the boy canít be right
Little does the man know without him the boy still sleeps at night
Itís an understatement to call him a man
He represents something so ignorant
The wisest wouldnít understand
But what has been done has been done
And with my soul repaired I shall never return
His ignorance is eternal, and he will never learn
ODE TO A CAT
(Cate Espener - May/04)
With yellow-green eyes
I could never perceive
Of that perfect Arc line
You simply are
My second son as willowy beast
My stippled mind heart
your soft hand rings out
notes and lines in harmony
Shamrock in the Morning
Van G. Garrett
Hot dogs from gas stations
never appealed to me.
No matter how hungry I was,
puffy franks with neon-like mustard
or ultra red ketchup
seemed reserved for more clean air events.
Where laughter starts and fuels
that don't end after the swipe of plastic
I'm older now and on my own, I live in a remote part of Wales just me , my dog
and a phone.
I never see people from day to day unless I go to my nearest village 7
Most times of the winter I have no phone, the wind blow's the cable down and
thats when I feel really alone.
It's handy having a phone, for a doctor/ vet and hoping maybe a wrong number
might just call or to ask if there's any mail for me as I'm always home.
I feed the wild birds no matter how the weather has arrived, the blue tits and
sparrows are in the hedge, I like to think I keep my bird friends alive, they
come and feast most all the day and the tables empty by darkest time of the
I wake in the morning thanks to natures clock 2 rooks tapping on the empty
wooden bird table every day spot on 8 o-clock.
There shy and don't like much fuss but they come to visit my dog sam, Yes the
two of us, of the winter's harsh nights and day I wouldn't want to change my
way of life for city life and company " No way"
There's no waste in any shape or form everything is used, even when it's worn.
All my food is good proper grub, that not only fills you up, but it's full of protein
that does you good,
Yes I've a small cottage that it's alone, it's painted white and it's got a
There for me
Never a dull moment
I ran into a stranger as he passed by,
"Oh excuse me please" was my reply.
He said, "Please excuse me too;
I wasn't watching for you."
We were very polite, this stranger and I.
We went on our way saying good-bye.
But at home a difference is told,
how we treat our loved ones, young and old.
Later that day, cooking the evening meal,
My son stood beside me very still.
As I turned, I nearly knocked him down.
"Move out of the way," I said with a frown.
He walked away, his little heart broken.
I didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken.
While I lay awake in bed,
God's still small voice came to me and said,
"While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy you use,
But the children you love, you seem to abuse.
Go and look on the kitchen floor,
You'll find some flowers there by the door.
Those are the flowers he brought for you.
He picked them himself: pink, yellow and blue.
He stood very quietly not to spoil the surprise,
and you never saw the tears that filled his little eyes."
By this time, I felt very small,
and now my tears began to fall.
I quietly went and knelt by his bed;
"Wake up, little one, wake up," I said.
"Are these the flowers you picked foe me?"
He smiled, "I found 'em, out by the tree.
I picked 'em because they're pretty like you.
I knew you'd like 'em especially the blue."
I said, "Son, I'm very sorry for the way I acted today;
I shouldn't have yelled at you that way."
He said, "Oh,Mom, that's okay. I love you anyway."
I said , "Son I love you too,
and I do like the flowers, especially the blue."
Are you aware that if we died tomorrow, the company that we are working for
would easily replace us in a matter of days. But the family we left behind
will feel the loss for the rest of their lives. And come to think of it, we
pour ourselves more into work than to our family an unwise investment
indeed, don't you think? So what is behind the story? Do you know what the
word FAMILY means?
I Remember/I Finally Found You
I remember when you use to do the worst things,I hated you.
I never wanted to see nor talk to you.
I always thought to myself "Why you did the things you did?"
Now, that you stopped,i realized that we can have fun times together.
I remember we actually had a birthday together,we even cried together.
I think i finally realized what a great and wonderful person you are,
a brother even a friend.
I'm thankful that i finally found you.
We meet many people as we go through life
The few that are good help us with our strife
Out of the few; certain ones stand alone
They help to make this world a wonderful home
We never thought how much they mean to us all
We never realized how they help us to stand tall
It seems it's always to late to see who was always here
Who was always willing to reach out to dry our tears
But sooner or later we eventually learn
That for which our hearts will forever yearn
That we should open our hearts and let them care
And that with them we should forever share
For those few will eventually go
They will leave behind beautiful things that we come to know
And with this knowledge with others we should share
For that is the best way to show we care
Poems Copyright ©
designated authors 2004.
Page Copyright © AHApoetry.com 2004.
Go check out the AHA
Archives for more poetry.
If you would like to send
your poem to Open Mic.
Go to the AHA!POETRY
Homepage for new ideas.