There is more at Open Mic Encore I 


September, 2005

Thoughts of the Past
Mary Chapman
As I lay on a blanket of
cotton and tweed
Enjoying the sun and the warm
summer breeze
My thoughts take me back
to a time of years past
When I was just a young girl
jumping rope, playing jacks
but the best years I had
were in front of the school
When at exactly three thirty
he would be there for sure
The short little man
with the truck painted red
To dip your big apple in
hot jelly spread
For a small round nickel
You would get the best treat
A juicy red apple
So tender and sweet


6th grade meanings         
   - Jena S.  
        middle school, A word every 5th grader understands.
        A word that means many things: maturity, responsibility, more
 homework, and sometimes labels.
   It also means good things: trust, more friends, and discovering
   new talents.
   i don't know about you, but I'm ready for middle school

Moments Beyond Appraisal
Michelle Ochsner
Revitalize nostalgic moments
Dazzling gems blazing through the brain
even though other assets may appear unclear
Years passed, a laugh
stems from a delightful childhood recollection
Riding twofold on a banana-seat bike
while another friend sat upon those freezing handle bars
Root beer floats bubbling over a frosted glass
Laughing so deeply that you nearly wet your pants
Cherished flashes of life beyond . . .
Enjoy it while you can


We Are Not
Nikki Hayward
We are timid,
Bad fighting,
Un-knowing people,
We are not cool
So we pretend to be.
We are not whom you think
We are.
And we are not
What you expect us to be.
We simply are not.
We will cover
And camouflage
And hide, our true identities,
But we remain
Who you don't expect us to be.
We are the you,
Inside of you
And you are the we, inside of us.

(This poem was written shortly after the London terrorist
attack on July 7 2005).
by Robert Davidson
Hanging on my wall beside my bed
Brings things into perspective
My hand broken from punching the wall
I hurt myself to ease the pain
So deep into my throbbing mind
I need to get it out
Tears of blood fall and shatter on my window
Like drops of glass from a distance
As a bus explodes
And nails my feelings to my door
Living in a dying world of bleeding souls
Terror bombs stalk my streets
I see my nightmares become reality
I see the future with a frightened eye
Raging fires everywhere, my walls closing in
Life is the nightmare world we're all dying to live

by Marcia Schechinger
After Fredo died I fled to the city
saw "Fiddlers on the Roof" the play he hated
Drank wine with the stagehands
ignoring the afterbirth of opening night
Road the subway, talked to myself
Watched people who spoke whimsical languages
Got drunk on shots of tequila rose
slept with a drunken sailor, two parts African
Woke up with a head ache and a sore throat
from smoking a strange cigar
Cried a million tears, hated you for dying
Let my hair turn gray, calling it remorse
Turned off the phone, deleted calls
Spoke of pharmaceutical drugs
and their usage
Died a million deaths
before I could swallow the pain
to find a new beginning
Knowing no one went to heaven
this month


 Memories of Me
Christen Topping
                                 As you watch me walking around,
                                 I am all alone, making no sound,
                              But beyond my eye, what you do not see,
                              I am in my mind, making memories of me.
                              I remember the time, everyone was there,
                            And when i was being myself, they all stared,
                               But the one thing that they did not see,
                           Was all that time, I was making memories of me.
                          There is the sun, the moon, the earth, and the sky,
                             There is the lone wolf, and the bird up high,
                                As they all are being what they be,
                              I am watching, making memories of me.


ďSpeckled GlassĒ
Tragic is this glass pane moment,
For a break makes the earth shutter
Speckled glass laid bare,
To cataclysmic blunder
Yet it still held the rainbow inside,
But what is so special I wonder?
Of such a petty occurrence from the laws of nature,
Compared to candy clouds and hills of chocolate
Change to post-its and a storage closet,
Or too see butterfliesí metamorphosis
So the breeze can have ribbons of colored wings.
What is my life without post-its,
To slow down and see the crickets dancing
Hop, hop their hops just donít stop,
And the sun greeted them, "How do you do?"
Hop, hop the clock had just stop,
Which leaves more time for dancing
Check yourself again,
For the glass is still broken
And broken glass should be fixed,
But inside this fragment of speckled glass
I saw a life without post-its,
And I remembered it.


tri tran
Lub, dub... lub, dub... lub, dub...
Every time my heart throws up a pulse,
The sky shakes and the sea trembles,
The birds wonder if it is the falling moon,
Or a crimson star, being pulled by gravity.
The emerald leaves murmur to one another;
They fear that the Earth is having aftershocks.
The nights, petrified and silent,
The days wade toward twilight, unaware.
Each of my organs takes turns to lick the tiny corpuscles,
Each artery beams as it quenches its thirst.
Every time my heart throws up a pulse,
A second whizzes by, and I know there is still tomorrow to come.
Lub, dub... lub, dub... lub, dub...


Mr. Statesman
Fallah Porter
Enough things are running through my head
Wondering why so many have to hunger
Why so many canít even get a loaf of bread
Iím asking you Mr. war monger
Youíve come in the name of peace
To make the multitude think all is well
The future becomes blurry and extortions increase
Then heaven shifts to hell
Watch out brother Lazarus
This man claims to be a messiah
Rest assure not upon a self-acclaimed genus
Heís a poor manís playa
He comes in the season of selection
Just for your ticket
After that, he kisses off your afflictions
And wallows in bastard grandiose
Weíre not blind, we seeing you
You use the people for your bounties
And your silver-tongue as a clue
Last warning! Weíre tire living in agonies

Making Fun of Haiku
  by Jameel Heath
Here comes the ducks
haiku sucks
sushi's cool
but stop killing whales
there are other foods than fish


The Monsoon Rain

  I hear a rumbling afar and look up towards the sky
  Blue a moment ago,it has now turned the color of ebony.
  Majestic and beautiful,dark clouds have claimed it as their domain,
  Lightning flashes across and it thunders as if in pain.
  I can sense it in every flower,every leaf,
  From the towering oak to the smallest shrub.
  A pining,a yearning,an aching and a longing.
  For the sweet respite of moisture from this scorching furnace.
  As they reach out in tandem expectantly to feel the first drops falling.
  I feelÖÖ fresh,clean,full of life,
  My mind is washed clean of sorrow,sadness and strife.
  SuddenlyÖI feel a warmth on my cheeks amidst the surrounding chill,
  I put up my hand and touch the tears racing down my face.
  I stood face upturned to the wide open heavens,
  Letting these salty tears of mine run unchecked.
  Let these tears of joy,of sadness,of hurt,
  Of wonder,of pain,of understanding flow.
  Let them flow and purge me of these myriad emotions.
  Never to arise again in my eyes,but become one with the monsoon rain.


Love Pully
iyan bastian

June 26th afternoon among the stairs
after the week of recognition
do you recognize?
June 26th afternoon behind the galaxy
there you stuck with million words of mine
you are the good reader
June 26th on the stairs in the galaxy
your hair in the wind, my words are spread
we are precious, very precious
lies, lies, lies are gone
we are the edge at one

De Gustibus Non Est Disputandem
Cornelius Crosson
I miss her most in the late afternoon,
Donít see the sun, canít find the moon.
I didnít think sheíd be gone for so long,
Donít hear the music,  canít sing the song.
I made her so mad, can do nothing to please
Canít feel the forest,  canít touch the trees.
The last words we had were more like a scream,
Canít swim the lake, canít wade  the stream.
I donít know what I can do, or even say,
Lost in the night,   asleep in the day.
I know that sheís right, Iím the one that atones
Canít walk on the rocks,  canít skim the stones
I wish sheíd come home, so I can prove that Iíve changed
Donít have a date,  got nothing arranged.
I hope that she reads this, comes back to my heart,
Donít have a script, but Iíll deepen my part.



The Power Of Words
Sophie Dulson 
The power of words of whatís been told
Can only speak the mind
Like shattered words from sentences
 Forgotten and left behind
The story of the bible
May only be a myth
You read out a soulful poem
It may set free your evil seethe
Your life is a story, a story of
What you have been.
But in there some where is your future
But is refused to be seen
The power of words can make
You see what your life is all about
 Words will save you one day but
 Your heart will not without


Once, i took a walk by the shore,
I met a friend so loving and caring
We sat by the shore for a cold drink
We talked until we were compelled to leave
We met again the next day
Gradually, our acquaintance developed into friendship
Friendship that could not be broken
Friendship that was so pure as crystal
Then one day i went to the shore and waited for him there
The waiting took too long a time
Then i realized he was not coming
He never came till evening was due
Now i am convinced, convinced enough to know i have lost him
I have lost him forever
I have lost a treasure that cannot be replaced
Little did i know that my beloved friend would leave me for good.



Eacel G. Janubas
I slowly walk along the beach,
Watching the moonlight,
Counting the stars,
Listening the waves.
Then suddenly, a face came through my mind.
I couldnít help but stare at it,
Hoping, imagining,
That itís all true.
Smiling upon me,
My whole being was shaken,
Wanting your lips
Touch mine.
As the wind blew fast,
I only saw sand.
My tears fall down the seashore
And the waves become bigger than ever.
They want to celebrate,
My sadness,
Of being missing you.
My bodyís aching,
And want to lie on the sand.
I let my body fall,
And the moon smiles at me.
The wind embraces me,
And touch my cheek.
I close my eyes,
And let your image flow to my mind.
You bend beside me,
Touching my lips,
Caressing my hair,
And whispers, ďI love you forever.Ē
For it was true,
My heart skips a bit,
Still my eyes close,
I answer, ďI love you and I always will.Ē
Slowly I open my eyes,
With tears falling down my cheeks,
You were there,
Smiling before me.
I rub my eyes and pinch my cheek
To see if you are really there,
Then your devilish smile shown,
And your face touch my face,
Your lips touch my lips,
Saying, ďI love you forever.Ē


Lost in a sea of people         
No clue how to be human
As I walk in loneliness
None eases my pain-man nor woman
I watch as the world passes me by
Without so much as a backwards glance
Sitting in my own corner of the world
I have absolutely no chance      
How i wish i could be like them  
The chance to be confident       
But I am not that I wish to be
For me it is simply not meant

Kanieshia Williams


 Crislaine Nolte
I remain when you have gone
I strive to overcome you
Bleak and split my heart still beats
Broken up my breath still breathes
I am shallow I am down and over gloom
Now Iím dark and pain consumed
Now Iím weak with conscience doom
Help me through today
Barely here Iím barely here but wide awake
Yes wide awake
Iím wide awake
Donít doubt the hurt my soul you take
Ignoring tears with which you make
If only you could understand
And leave my mind for just today
You disagree quite like the air
I yearn for peace within me
Itís all around but threatens hate
To choke and suffocate me
Yet still I cannot move

Betwixt and Between
   by Jameel Heath

Winged assassins inaugurated the final decade,
destroying the majestic eleven this mighty land made,
some still cling to dualistic myths,
but the idea of good and evil is completely played,
heroes and villains have done there dance,
so very little is left to chance,
listen to end time rants and counter with arcane chants,
why do I love forbidden plants?
eternity means my nightmare's never done,
from the eight I should probably run,
but who am I to spoil your fun?
who am I to question these codes relayed by the Sun,
saying an age is over and a new one has just begun,
water flowing from way beyond the moon,
washing over us all too soon,
love dashed past our star this very June,
transit through time like well worn souls,
three is what I see after Agni consumes bowls.


A child's laughter
behind demon eyes
trapped with a past
we all can despise
When you can barely live
with what you've been dealt
and you can hardly contain
all the rage you've felt
All you can do is hope
and all you ever did was pray
Everything that could be done was
but was it done the right way?
Nobody knows
nobody ever will
you try as hard as you can
sometimes enough to kill
When you have everything
but it's never enough
the loving part inside of you
starts to get very tough
It gets harder to care
in the face of hate
they want you to fight
but your a patron saint
Good versus evil
everything you never wanted to be
You must always fight the good fight
through all the faces of adversity
To back away
when you want to blast straight
to say a prayer
when you want change fate
The pain will subside
and the memories burst
but love will always be there
because it was there first


Who I Truly Am
kristina evridge
all you do is criticize me
you tell me its constructive
but this i can not see
you tell me how awful i am
and remind me of my mistakes
you act as if you have never made any
these things i will forgive
but i shall never forget
the things you say will not determine who i am
but they will show others who you are
and when your old and grey
and need someone to help
there ill be
but not because i forgot
but because that is who i truly am


 The lonely wind, weeping as it sings its sollow burden,
 As it wraps its engulfing mass around all things, chilling them to the deepest core.
 Its destination unknown, its end uncertain.
 A winters wind it is, the snows best ally.
 It pushes forward, in its last icy charge
 to its doom, and eternal end.
                            David Schramm

A Reign of Spirits
Bill Albright
Small flames play through embered coals
Their faint crackling into the night's silence creeps
Like whispers from phantom gods that keep
A reign of spirits in natural souls
With chant, dance, they circle round the Sun Dance pole
All eyes fixed as in tranced sleep
Begun by lore far, dark, so deep.
At the fall of night our fear unfolds
At the dusk of each day, we rejoice
That  time rewards life lived quietly
For in many nights the unwanted noise
Unites, joined together we can try
To find this world's true joys - and universal voice
Calls us forth to loosen bounds so all spirits may fly.


Michael White
                       Sorrow lives but never dies,
                     Feel the Sorrow,Feel the Sorrow.
                       Sorrow kills and always lies,
                     Feel the Sorrow,Feel the Sorrow.
                  Sorrow lifts its mornful head to bury
                        those wth the ancient dead.
                     Feel the Sorrow,Feel the Sorrow.
                       Feel the Sorrow,Ever binding.
                       Feel the Sorrow,ever blinding.
        Feel the Sorrow of the dead,they have come cause what you
        said. Here their spirits shall remain here longer,for the joys of
                       tormenting me now and forever.

A Poem by Marcus Baxter
Is everyone influenced as easy as me?
Do you all- fall in love with poetry?
And clever lines from films and books
Anti heroes and clever crooks
Clever quotes and inspiring lives
Mostly dreams and usually lies
Started this another day
A different guy unfortunately
Thinking differently on things that once did matter
To me and flocks in mindless chatter
What happens to change from day to day?
Like another life, I have to say
right here now, another meís showing
grasping for effort to finish this poem
Good morning, rarely morningís great
Read this through yet another day
read it slow, it makes some sense
Think differently now and hereafter, hence
should really change the prose
the style in which this poem flows
But itís real hard to kick out of           step
My mind keeps pushing forward rhymes
Hard to push them all aside, and not be ruled in what I want to say, how can you put rules in poetry?
Or is it just in my head?
Am I secretly insane?
Inside my mind I donít know
does everyone or just me
Fight with poetry thatís their own?


Open Mic Encore I 


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Page Copyright © 2005.

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