OPEN MIC ARCHIVE
February, 2006

OPEN MIC ENCORE I

OPEN MIC ENCORE II

OPEN MIC ENCORE III

February, 2006

all blue
the winter sky reflecting
in a little pool
and for no reason at all
do I wish me a cloud

Fred Flohr
-0-

The Hour Glass
Nancy A. Jurinek

The sands of time from the hour glass
Not dwelling on the past
Going on to the next page
Each moment through the maze
Time keeps on going
Without knowing
What the next moment brings
Like the eagle's wings
Soon the hourglass
Will be a thing of the past
For time does not stand still
Once the hour glass is filled

-0-

Biafra Laments
by Onyeka Nwelue

When they thralled us into war, and
raped our lives; destroying what we had in common
by tearing us apart, so that we could be like broken bridges
they screamed

-no victor, no vanquished!

for deceit, and  took our daughters away
that we were persuaded to send our children into soldiering;

or made our wives go after them for our daughters
but they treaded underneath to fuck our daughters, our wives, our sons
even our goats
then sent them into their huts as theirs

but why would a man in camouflage
thwart the heart of a man in mufti
by disappearing with all he had?

and at the end of the never-ending war
they stilled fear in our hearts
that the land we ruled at first; we are fumed with slavery
jabbering the world with tyranny

-for they only are tyrants!

-0-

"Death and the Silent Places" 
(a haynaku)
graywyvern

this
old music
from my childhood

they
had a
war on too

glittering
Renaissance
it seems now

between
the first
and second cup

ruins
i have
dragged boot across

they
thought we
would visit stars

stars
our children
shall be serfs

this
passionate music
to be free

warm
in my
hands the cup

empty
the dark
and the cars

all
the same
movies but sharper

12 14 05
-0-

Black Skies Moving
Dorothy
           
                      Blue skies over Phoenix again
                      Sam arrives, peeking about
                      Looking honest and innocent
                      The only dangerous part-that battle field
                      Creeping near silence
                      Where soldiers await

                      Now blue skies fade
                      Into black beginnings
                      The soldiers wait in silence
-0-

THE EXCEPTIONS
BY LIP SAI LIN

THE  FLOWERS  HAVE  MORE  THAN  ONE  PETAL
BUT  NOT THE ANTHURIUM
COINS  ARE  THROWN  INTO  THE  WISHING  WELL
BUT  NOT  THE  RIVER
MAN  HAS  MORE  THAN  ONE  DESIRE
BUT  NOT  THE  DEAD
YOU  ARE  THE  SERVANT 
BUT  NOT  THE  BOSS
DO  GOOD
BUT  NOT  EVILS
DO  GOOD  AND  YOU  WILL  BE  REPAID
SOONER  OR  LATER
IN  ONE  WAY  OR  ANOTHER

-0-

By Reasonable Design
by
Bill Albright

1.
gods made by man,
in man's image, neglect
to mention acne

2.
gods speak to man
on a person to person line
never by speaker phone

3.
man seldom blames himself
for storms, tragedies,
Katrina was act of god

4.
no heaven nor hell
no god, no devil
life is

6.
I think, therefore
I am, if I forgo thinking
I proclaim faith

7.
I became a being
for better or worse
till I part from me

-0-

WITHERED
-Himangshu Bhuyan

Withered face, where's the glare of ambition that used to outshine all lesser mortals?
Why is the person of fierce competition looking desperately for the peace of contentment?
The glare, the flare and the glaze- are all gone and what remains
Are only the ashes of my once flamboyant self!
Today success brings no more joys than failure
The defeated is no different from the triumphant
Cause the moment one runs after success, the very cause of it gets defeated
cause life is best lived in its hazy lazy way-
The way, in which there are moments of compassion for the hungry mother who feeds nectar to her dying child
Its not the bouquet of flowers you give your beloved that makes life beautiful
Its rather the flowery words you speak to that little bouquet selling girl that gives life its due meaning
So all ye ambitious kinds- look around and open up your minds
Breathe the freshness of the winds
And maybe then you will see
That just like the rose in your hand, your life is nothing but a withered flower!
-0-

WHO AM I?
     By AMAN KUMAR SINGH

                   I am a MARATHON RUNNER.
                   I run,
                   I halt,
                   I pun,
                   I jolt.
                   Sometimes when I halt,
                   I wonder is there any fault;
                   Answer bubbles,"Seems to be tired."
                   But is there any way to be wired.
                   No, is the truth,
                   To me sounds ruth.

                         But I am still running,
                        'Cause the ultimate thule is not yet visible,
                         Success may seem but yet not feasible,
                         Hurdles are upright,
                         And its my breathe against fight,
                         Yes, no doubt I am suffocated,
                         But yet not perforated.
               
                   I am all set for a tour de force,
                   During this treacherous course;
                   I'll run, surely run till infinity,
                   Irrespective of vicinity;
                   Till you see this RUNNER bleeding,
                   But this time no more pleading.
                 
 -0-

VISIT MY HOMELAND
TRI TRAN

I sauntered on the lonely street of Ha Noi,
Listening to the cries of my birds and bees.
Their wailing hearts dreamed to sing songs,
But the azure sky had already blackened.

Gloom lurked on each street-corner,
Searching the poor and the young to swallow;
The fragrant of the night, afloat, in mid air,
Slowly, entered my aveoli and smeared sweetness.

I sauntered on the dark street of Ha Noi,
Holding onto the photos of tanks and rockets in my mind;
The night moon bled crimson tears upon my heart and soul,
I realized, from that moment, I was no more Vietnamese.
-0-

-0-

THE DEVIL'S DIPLOMAT 
by Ruth S Walters

And so dear soul you reach this place called death
You lived your life of honey, wine and opulence
Then you gasped at your last breath
You see these gates of gold and ivory
They are created just for you and me.
For you and I are so alike sweet one.
You’ve always loved the warmth of a firey sun
The weather here is sunny all the time.
Even the rain is warm on your face
and the bed you’ll sleep in has sheets of lace.
Or would you rather a better place,
and sit at a table the angels grace?
Let me tempt you in dear soul departed
or be from these treasures forever parted.
I am the devils diplomat
come step upon the welcome mat.
-0-

Old Navajo games
Scharlie Meeuws

Spider Woman taught string games to keep thoughts in order,
only in winter, when spiders sleep, or else will she tie
your eyes shut. You will learn about the night sky,
concentrate on star clusters. Weave on child, weave

the universe in motion, play your string games, your sand games
in perpetual regeneration. Breathe child, breathe
the sacred act of breathing! The Holy Wind is everywhere,
in all the living, nothing exists in isolation.
Follow the stars’ constellations, Canis Major, Sword of Orion,
Scorpio, Cassiopeia, The Pleiades, Aldebaran.

Learn them, chant them, weave them into your memory.
They will remind you how to live your life, to walk
in beauty, not the outward appearance but order, blessedness.
Reach an old age by living in harmony with the universe.

Breathe child, breathe the holy act of breathing!
This wind brings you thought at conception,
When it ceases to blow inside you, you become speechless.
Draw your string figures, child, move and complete them
until Spider Woman will help to dissolve all.

-0-

work before play
because you work to pay
so stay away
from things that ruin your day
Forest
-0-

from time to time we come to think about think about it
about how our life seems to be just a useless bunch of shit
maybe a reason for living there is just not
maybe we are only here to live then rot
or maybe we shouldn't ask and just go with the flows
but life is just full of disappointing blows
eating sleeping going to work and schools
feels like we all are pawns in some guys game of fools
and us pawns are so selfish we even kill each other off, we come up with mixed feelings we do not even feel
but is any of this even really real?
Venessa Brideau

-0-

BY THEN THE PATHETIC DOOFUS
NEEDED A THIRD OPINION!
Dr. Ron Pataky

The doc said it behooved
That Bill’s lungs should be removed
A pronouncement that exploded
From the blue

Bill pleaded to Doc’s minion
"Could I get ONE MORE opinion?"
And the nurse replied,
"OK," You’re UGLY, too!"
-0-

DISTORTED LIMB (CREATOR)
Jennifer Best

paint me into place, cubism style
like picasso's lethargic busty
women with distorted limbs
distorted reality
paint me in there with the swirls
of van gogh's epileptic vision
nothing but a 19th century
masterpiece

let me hang against your wall
while the paint drips into place
then sets. there will be cream
colored drops of my feet on your
floor, blue blots from my eyes,
pink smears from my lips, but you
won't mind much, will you
you like seeing me on your floor

-0-

A Test of Strength
Anton van Schalkwyk

The gates have been opened again,
 the forges are blowing white...
I lay my soul on the anvil again,
 to toil and toil through the night...

With every swing and strike of the hammer,
 harder and harder I become...
Until the day when nothing can touch me,
 no-one, not even the One...

Haven't I felt this before?
 Haven't I been burned enough in the past?
When I learn not to love so passionately!
 Not until my love is returned at last?

And so here I stand, fighting the weakness,
 swinging this hammer again...
Every time I strike my soul, the sparks fly,
 making me harder, lying to myself...

But I cant do anything else...
 But I cant do anything else...
-0-

I used to be afraid to live, too scared of being wrong
But now I'm afraid of love or lack thereof
I used to see myself as perfect, nothing could stop me then
But now I see my flaws and it all comes into perspective
I used to hate the silence and never fail to break it
But now I drift away with every quiet moment
I used to dream of growth and the path to success
But now I can't escape the process and fear of being left
I used to seek truth in all things
But now I just fight it, sometimes ignoring as if to subside it
I used to long for the approval of others
But now I'm terrified of failing
I used to cry for the relief that often follows
But now I take deep breaths and concentrate, no one needs the sorrow
I used to wish time would just cut to the chase
But now I long for those minutes that have now been erased

Emilee Rucker

-0-

Necessary Evil
Raven

I’m full of lust, I’m full of desire
I’ll burn forever in the eternal fire
I’ll die in agony, I’ll die in pain
The world is sunny I am rain.

I bring death where there is life
I am a shadow where there is light
My hate cuts through joy like a knife
I am a demon that strikes in the night.

Hate me despise me, I do not care
You don’t confront me, you do not dare
I will not leave you without a fight
I am a demon that strikes in the night.

I am your half, I am your darkness
Cast me away and you will be helpless
Without me the world will attack you
In my absence the world will destroy you.

-0-

Don’t Worry…
Frankey Chung

Ever consider who you are,
Whilst wishing upon that dreary star,
Long into that distance far,

And think about yourself one night,
To light a fire in broad daylight, and give yourself a wondrous sight,

And yet spur a moment of deep thought, that once amount to naught,
Yet now begins to fade distraught and enlighten you to ponder,
Whether your life began here or yonder,
Will your friends make you stronger?

Or is it true that loneliness be better, when for Christmas
All you get is that ugly sweater, from Aunt Yettler, down in Mettler town,
The one who goes to work in her nighty gown
That one with stripes and green all round,
Then your thoughts come to mound,
Whether life be best alone,
Or shared with friends with tea and scone

So then you stare into that flame,
Is there depth to your unhealthy blame that pushes you to desire?
And ponder deep within that fire,
Something meaningful and with power
About life and living and to tower upon your own thinking,
And step beyond the verge of drinking that last beer, that
Would easily push you to insanity
Laid with profanity, and ever so with vanity,
But then you think,
Whether life be best alone,
Or shared with friends with tea and scone

The fire burns and glows with prowess,
Then you notice your stare is endless,
The trance of flame is none relentless,
Unbreakable in its spell,
Then like the tolling of a knell,
Comes an interruption, like a spell,
But who it is, you cannot tell,
Yet you wish it would be company,
A friend or two to give you something,
For a noise be at your window,
And so you think and thus bestow,
Whether life be best alone,
Or shared with friends with tea and scone

Enter now, from the door,
Someone big, someone crawling on the floor,
One by one, they continue evermore,
More and more, each from the door,
Smiling, prancing, whistling like the shore,
Of a sunshine beach to which the birds would soar

For it’s your friends and family, be at your door,
Come to visit you, this Sunday morn’
And so you realise that yes indeed,
Life consists of friends in need,
All best shared with scones and tea


OPEN MIC ENCORE I

OPEN MIC ENCORE II

OPEN MIC ENCORE III