OPEN MIC ARCHIVES
September 6, 2004
OPEN MIC ENCORE I
OPEN MIC ENCORE II
THE DAY IS BURNED
james r. wood
another day is burned
we didn't learn that
we can go anywhere
to the beach, to the streets
we could meet anywhere
outside our doors
take a chance
take the bus
take your life
it'd be a change
we're looking for
the damage is done
they're outside the door
in the streets, at the beach
we're lost w/o memories
outside in the sun
she's the one
that we've been waiting for
at the door
at the window
she's got a lot of time to burn
we didn't learn
another day is burned
Bird Day. Early May.
Sky alive. Barely five.
Morning light. Not yet bright.
Dark figures wing. Trees sing.
Mute traffic sounds. No braying hounds.
The city sleeps. My sapling peeps.
A parent returns. Breakfast worms.
Rest on a wire. Never really tire.
The mix of calls
The day is drawn,
comes the dawn.
The avian riot
The human world resumes
End of play. Bird day.
by Sheri Twila Lowe
Lying upon the warm prairie sod
I shut my eyes
The morning sun caresses my face
Beneath closed lids I am
Confronted by a curtain of red
Motionless I hear the symphony of life
All about me...
The relentless humming drone of insects
A Meadow Lark's short sweet song
Distant bickering crows
Making raucous catcalls...
Eddying currents of
Summer tide air
Spin and curl and wage
A dance upon my sun-warmed flesh
I am at rest...
Awash with the scents of
Earth, dust and sage
Opening my eyes the pure
Vastness of great blue skies
Swell my heart...
It beats to the rhythm of life
Puffs of clouds
(adumbrate in the empyrean)
Tantalize my imaginings
Stretching out my arms I touch
Rocks litter this landscape
Forged by igneous explosions
Pockets of geodesic treasures and
Sedimentary deposits trapped and
Moved by glaciers
Extremes sculpted the land
Ice, snow, wind and rain
Creating this glaciated plain upon which I now lay
Reveling in the wide open space...
I am rooted to this place
Kindled by the courage and
Efforts of my ancestors
Indebted to those who
Bust the clay and turned the sod...
I am attuned to this outlook
A part of the loam
I am home
Neighborhood children crowd the hill
with sleds and cardboard boxes,
barely waiting their turn to fly
down the icy open street.
Racing with wild abandon and
living only for the moment,
the children forget time and place
and the cares of their young world.
Their parents gather unnoticed
with steaming mugs and wistfulness.
Snow crunches beneath their feet,
echoing in the emptiness
where their dreams of flying used to be;
Until one steps away from the rest
and gingerly sits on someone's
discarded broken-down cardboard box.
Pushing off tentatively
she holds her breath,
then shouts with delight
at the blast of cold air
and long-lost memories.
Cheryl Lynn Leath
The sound of crackle-crunch appears to be coming from the leaves before they
even touch the ground.
Leaves that have already fallen are swept along the parking lot by a
soft and gentle breeze.
It is Fall, a wonderful season to behold!
A squirrel scurries along in search of his acorns, walnuts, etc...
You can hear the scratch of his claws and little feet.
Another winks from a perch high in the branch tops almost as if to say,
"This is squirrel country, beware!"
Hear him chatter-chatter.
Is he talking to his friends or you?
You can hear the sounds of fall!
A MONA LISA APPEAL
I am not dead, for smile will curve temporary,
a Mona Lisa appeal.
I am a mask, ageing, crumbling, ashes to dust.
Mystery blushes with cheekbones, contemptuous,
upon face, upon reality. As you enter door, I
smell ridicule, see brows crinkled by alcohol,
smell laughter upon your breath, upon my chest,
you stand, you lurk, you leave cracks upon
nights, upon ill-willed, sunken floors. A day
beats rhythmic notes, just like my naive hart
pounding in vessel, I hardly notice anymore. Like
a child's naive ride, love fades, erodes on unhappy
carousels. With stretching miles between the lines
and I, sipping cups of black tea, a smile curves,
a Mona Lisa appeal.
What's going on ?
What's going on in this world today?
Nuclear Wars so please let us pray,
to end all the violence and unneeded death,
watching these soldiers take their last breath.
They die for their country, and this i respect.
Please Stop for a moment, while we reflect,
on things we can do to help out our nation,
don't we all know, we are God's creation?
A WALK IN THE HIGH STREET, ON A BRIGHT SUNNY DAY
Walking in the High Street,
the crowd all around you.
People chatting loudly, laughing,
children running after pigeons.
Their laughter filling the street,
and you laugh.....
feeling their happiness,
your heart swelling up,
with such joy....
wanting desperately to keep it inside.
Then you look around sheepishly,
feeling a tiny bit silly.
You dry your eyes and move along.
People walk all around you,
as if they don't see you,
and if you're not careful----
they might walk right through you!!
(a scary thought)
You look up at the bright blue sky,
fast turning gray,
heavy with rain.
And then it starts to pour.
You watch laughing couples,
trying to squeeze in together,
in small "pound-land" umbrellas.
And you have no one
to share your umbrella with !
you go first
And letting people know us
Makes us stand better
On the platforms of society:
Acceptance and not
Makes its way for the progress
Of any individual quite often
But sometimes, also the rejection
Might make its way to the top
If the conviction behind
The knowledge is a driving force
With determination of thoughts
Being right without
Caring much for their acceptance
At the very outset
Of their expression
and letting people know us
Makes us stand better on the platforms of society
Sword- smooth but sharp
Drugs- curing but deadly
Tan- nice-looking but damaging
Bomb- compact yet wipes out a world
Human- strong yet weak
Water- essential but harmful
Lion- nurturing yet fierce
Beauty- important but painful
Lightning- quick but destroying
Vision- fast but engraving
Internet- educating yet corrupting
Rainbow- serene but angry
Food- nourishing but health-risking
Glass- strong yet easily shattered
Brain- complex yet narrow-minded
Oleander- beautiful but poisonous
Death- peaceful but devastating
Gossip- easy but life-ruining
(Published in The Edge Of The Metaphor, India, 2003)
Darius Gabriel Bugarin
Once when you honour me
once when you appreciate things
once, even if I give you something
as you always wanted me to become trustworthy
"Think of your future" you said
"Plan your emergencies" you added
and you slap me once when I depend myself
because in that thing I'm happy
How many times I tried to impress you
giving you things more than what you expect
but I never heard anything, but comments
and you never know what I feel
But one time i know you're happy
the time when you're in a real emergency
the time when you doesn't know what to do
and so I came, and helped you
I could see it in your eyes
even if it's flooded with tears
with your smile, I know what you mean
and you know what I feel--
I And The Moon Walked
The moon came to walk with me
It glowed full to make this pairing be
Stride for stride to where even I must go
No matter who I may be, walking fast or slow
To a place destined to become the consequence
Of those who preceded in deference
To fates unknown, a journey I must keep
Beyond the horizon where the sun and I shall sleep.
Life, once a daily drama, encores to memory
More clearly viewed than what my eyes did ever see
Each step on the path made bright,
Darkness cleared from my mind by the light
Loaned, as is life, all this thoroughly revealed
When the moon came to walk with me.
The Music Man
From his mind out through his hand
Shines the soul of the music man
Simple chords, finely tuned
Blood seeping from a single wound
Heartstrings played, filling the room
Nourishing rhythms; an exotic perfume
Emotions rising with surging beats
As he sweeps me off my feet
This man of music knows my pain
He plays it over and over again
Filling my heart with sounds of wonder
Striking memory with waves of thunder
His chorus is one of magic and delight
When he plays, his world becomes right
Hometown Fan’s Lament
It is the eighth inning, and I have to go again- The crowd stands in
anticipation if he can just hit the ball we can tie the game- We all stand
and think that maybe we will see him do it, do what we paid to see- The
reliever, a rookie, sweats in the July heat, he knows the score, and he hears
the crowd- the angry drone of a hornet’s nest to his virgin ears-he delivers
and the hero swings, strike three. The miss is as dramatic as if he had hit
the sweet spot dead on.
The crowd exhales, a boxer hit hard in the ribs. I slide by the
aggravated couple at the end of the row; they think I drink too much beer.
The hero let us down today, but we play again tomorrow.
A life is momentary, an idea never lasts, a time passes, but dreams are
forever, a feeling fades, days expire, nights awaken, but dreams are forever,
memories are constantly replaced, knowledge is renewed, but dreasm are
forever, hate dies, new loves bloom and people change...but dreams are
blindfolded in the mind images of thoughts to come.
trapped in the soul explanations of the images in the mind.
hidden in the depths of emotion feelings that allow ideas to become reality.
This all may sound subtle, but I've got something on my mind.
I just can't believe I've held it in all this time.
I am not upset, just misunderstood.
Wish i could explain, really wish i could.
All of the above!
I try to keep my feet planted, though i am untied to love.
I feel neglected.
Sorta abandoned inside.
Have i been rejected?
Thrown to the side?
Live life to the fullest, so momma always said.
Right before i imagined her
tucking me into bed.
Patty Briant Elliott
I had a life.
I thought it was mine.
I took it for granted
and often the lives of family or friends.
But when deaths’ near door
tried to quell life’s flame,
I began to re-value that which means more.
From deep in a coma,
where surreal darkness engulfed my bed,
I heard the voices
of family and friends.
They read aloud from the Bible to me
and many a favorite chorus was sung.
They even whispered permission,
“It’s okay to go,
be with the Lord, if this struggle
to live is too much to bear”.
Deep in my soul, I fought with myself.
I knew I’d die imminently.
Then out of the darkness appeared brilliant light.
I reached for it’s luminous arc,
where a man’s silhouette I could see.
“Jesus”? I asked and reached for the light.
But it receded as a tender masculine voice said to me,
“It’s not your time.”
Then I could see, as God wanted me to.
So I asked not, “Why I’m near death”,
but “What do you desire of me”?
Again he assured, “Not your death”.
“Live life to the fullest with laughter and love.
Be gentle and caring, as you keep telling others
there is life eternal, through me”.
Thus to life’s flames, I ever will cling.
There are so many things I want to tell you, but I’m afraid to scare you
It’s so hard to hold back when my feelings for you grow more and more each
The feelings and emotions that I have for your surpass those of any other
You make it so hard for me to express the way I feel to you, I’m left with
nothing to do but wonder
You’re the last thing I think about before falling asleep, and the first
when I awake
I put my heart out on the line for you, and I feel I have left so much at
I often see pictures of you in my head when I’m staring off into space
Unable to hold it in, a bright, childish smile appears on my face
I do nothing but enjoy the long nights spent with you clinched to your arms
I don’t know how you did it, but you snatched my heart with your Derrik
I will never forget those special moments that we shared together night after
When we are together it feels like nothing else in the world could be so right
I would do anything to be able to say I’m all yours and you’re all mine
There’s nothing else I can do but wait and let you take your time
I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that I’m in love with you, I just
wish you’d see
I sit around constantly thinking about not what we could be, but what we
“The Fighter within Me”
kazia donella tinsley
I fight a battle everyday
Against discouragement and fear
Some foes stand in my way
The path ahead is never clear
I must forever be on guard
Against the doubts that come along
I get ahead by fighting hard
But fighting keeps my spirit strong
I hear haters and the voice of despair
The dark predictions of the weak
But I find myself pursued by care
No matter what I seek
My victories are small and few
It matters not how hard I strive
Cause each day the fight begins with something new
But fighting keeps my hopes alive
My dreams are spoiled by circumstance
My plans are wreaked by either fate or luck
Some hour, perhaps will bring my chance
And the great hour has never struck
My process has been slow and hard
I’ve had to climb, crawl and swim
Fighting for every inch of the yard
But I have kept in fighting trim
I have to fight my doubts away
And be on guard against my fears
Hearing words of dismay
Has been familiar through the years
My plans keep going wrong
My thoughts combine to my faith and will
But fighting keeps my spirit strong
And I am undefeated still!!!
I LOVE MALAYSIA
BY LIP SAI LIN
OH , I LOVE MALAYSIA
WHICH IS A WONDERFUL COUNTRY
IMBEDDED WITH LOVE AND CULTURES
M STANDS FOR MULTI-RACIAL
A STANDS FOR ABUNDANCE
L STANDS FOR LONGEVITY
A STANDS FOR AUTHORITY
Y STANDS YOUTH
S STANDS FOR SANITY
I STANDS FOR INTELLIGENCE
A STANDS FOR ACHIEVEMENT
OH , I LOVE MALAYSIA
AND WANT TO BE A REAL MALAYSIAN
Have my Cake and Eat it Too
Such a sweet sorrow is this head’s dear bottom.
How beautiful is the obvious mystery.
How ugly is obscure clarification.
Oh I do love the future of this history.
I want to have fun running while I walk
And sing in such a sweet silence.
Could I just fly with my feet on the ground
And yield with bitter defiance?
I want to walk sitting down in my sleep
And sleepwalk while I am awake.
Could I please eat just one tiny morsel
And still keep this nice piece of cake?
To quote Gary Larson: “It was late, and I was tired”
HOW THE SPERM WHALE GOT HIS NAME
I have read that the sperm whale was named
by the whalers who preyed on it.
Men, I suspect, whose imagination was affected
by years of cruising the oceans of the whole world
in search of whales to slay, to flay and boil
for the oil which countless ages of evolution
had given them that they might survive
the oceans’ crushing, icy depths.
I have read that the especially desirable oil
inside the head of the sperm whale
looked to the sailors like their own sperm.
Perhaps the whalers’ vision had to do with
their enforced, years-long celibacy while at sea
or perhaps spermaceti, which is what they called it,
really did look like their semen; who knows now?
I don’t know as anyone alive today has had
occasion to gaze upon pools of spermaceti.
If, indeed, he wished to.
A CLOUDY DAY
BY LIP SAI LIN
WHITISH , WOOLISH
HANGING IN THE AIR
CLINGING TO THE SKY
FLYING ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS
HIGH ABOVE YOUR HEAD
COME IN DIFFERENT
SHAPES AND SIZES
APPEARANCES AND STATES
FROM GROUPS OF SHEEP
TO PUFFS OF SMOKE
FROM CLUSTERS OF FLOWERS
TO OVERLAPPING OF SURFS
ALL DECEIVING YOUR EYES
AS A SUDDEN RAIN
COMES LIKE FATE
OPEN MIC ENCORE II
Poems Copyright ©
designated authors 2004.
Page Copyright © AHApoetry.com 2004.
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