October, 2005

Katrina, Queen of Death
By Tamara Beryl Latham
Human buoys bobbing,
floating in the gulf of isolation,
while bellowing out
to the tongueless majority
a collective S.O.S.
Approaching the funnel
of blackness,
and the wrath
that is the seaward flow,
their heavy arms
beat cresting foam,
while all conscious
thought of thirst
is lost.
Their frail forms,
failing from hunger,
grotesque specimens
of Burnsian theory,
sink like granite stone
to enter the deep,
where they remain
voiceless sculptures
of the sea.




Hurricane Katrina
by Barbara Alyea
As the storm blew in, all were warned.
"Get out, get out", of New Orleans.
The men who knew, how to rate this storm,
said it would be, the very worst one.
They named her, "Katrina", a category five,
and hoped that she, would leave some alive.
She tore through the coast, drowning houses and homes.
She beat down on "Naw'lins", leaving nothing alone.
She broke all the levees, as they thought she would.
She started a flooding, only the prayerful withstood.
When it was over, even the dead re-arose.
For water covered everything, from the levees that broke.
No houses, no schools, no churches, no more.
Not, in "Naw'lins", not as before.
All the people, who survived, had stories to tell.
Some saved by God, some went through hell.
Some lingered and still they died.
All of us could just watch and cry.
Hurricanes are a force, of weather on Earth.
And, yet, so is God, so lets keep Him first.

Shelter, hope, and family
not one of these remain,
 people walking through the
flooded streets in the pouring
 So tell me how to move on
leaving all my friends behind,
it's like some people just don't
give a rat, it's like our cities our
going blind.
 We stand in line for buses
waiting day by day, as we
drive away from New Orleans
the sky oh so gray.
 So tell me how to move forward
leaving all my friends behind,
it's like some people just don't
give a rat, it's like our cities
going blind.
 As we watch in silence, as
our homes get washed away we
pray to see our family and to
live one more day. 




you think of all those hurricane victims
taking their last breath
crying their last tear
then i understand how lucky i am
even though i have hard times
i know i have more than one breath
and more than my last tear to cry
you will never understand
the pain......or will you
the pain i am going through now
is watching all these children my age
taking their last breath
crying their last tear.
do you know?
do you feel the pain?


Left alone
No one's there to save you.
People talking about you
Makes you cry.
But no one's there to save you
To no end,
Society turns its back on you
And there's no one there to save you.
No superman
No knight in shining armor
Just a damsel in distress
With an evil secret,
That no one knows.
Dragons slain by her hand
But evil still remains
with no one there to save her.

Andi cincodemayo

In the Dark of Night
By Brian F. Hudon
in silence the world sleeps
the only light but a single flame
lighting the darkness, illuminating the heart
in this heart that silently keeps your name
time awaits impatiently
stirring gentle dreams that cloud my sight
when in sleep there are none that remain
but only those that the heart in longing sees
under that rain and the storm
there is a place that lies inside
waiting in steady patience
where unsaid words and though remain


The Hurricane
 Courtney Compton
It was like a scary nightmare with water as far as eyes can see
Bodies floating everywhere dead or soon to be
Then again the rain starts beating and the sun goes into shade
There are people in their houses waiting for the wind top die
And if you stay real quiet you can here the babies cry
It was like a giant graveyard with water instead of dirt
The pain is so tremendous I can't define the hurt
Now families are crying because their loved ones are gone
It was like a war for life but this time evil won


oh my lord
plz give me ur hand
to fly on the green land
oh my lord let me hear ur sound
that come from great band



Marcia Schechinger
She weaves and sways in her tapestry
billowing with each howl of the wind
Slimmer from her robust figure
she tosses away her forest and lime
Giving way for new apparel
one that glows intensely with red and gold
She is a glamorous figure
with a cool blush against the fall skies
Her transformations awes the world
Yet, in the quiet of the morning
dewdrops trickle down her orange bodice
as if dreading her doomed fate
With each new day she breathlessly awaits
death's cool spirit
as she freely expires with the crisp winter sky
Still, for a brief time she was fall
magnanimously dressed for pleasure

there will never be a tomorrow
 J. Barrett

there will never be a tomorrow and always 
there will never be a yesterday even 
though we dream dreams of them
so thinking we think we know now 
and thinking we know how now 
because we think we think 
we dream on
our heads full of cosmos clashing 
and little tiny atoms smashing 
we make great rules for all 
us fools
yes god said all is for us he did 
even though he is not a he or 
a she but maybe even a you 
or me
thus so in our powerful god hands 
we can do create all many things 
to make us go faster live longer 
god like
and woe be to all that stands against 
our mighty power (plants) doing 
some sort battle for our 
very so breath
and there will never be a tomorrow always 
and there will never be a yesterday even 
though we dream dreams of 


We are America United stand we pray together and hold each others hands
We are America we stand day and night
We are respected because of our rights
who cares if your asian black or white the eyes of America have only one sight
our country like yours is diverse we sing the same song verse for verse
i tell you this story because im free
and never for get that you can be

joe wright




Michael C

I’ve been here for weeks and
I’ve been holding my breath,
I’ve seen things that are worst than death
and it has changed me in a way
that I really can’t quite say,
Every day another unfortunate death,
He is placed in heaven with god across his chest Another moment will not go by
where a bullet shall not rip the sky,
and the jokes and letters are not enough
to take away the horrid stuff,
The stuff I’ve seen and the things I’ve done, We’ve done enough to make God cry, Instead he only sits and sighs,
I think he’s sick of all this war
but every day there’s more and more.
Fallen Angels on the field,
Who’s fate today was sealed.
Another prisoner lies amongst us
He surely shall not gain our trust
his fellow people rage with us
the curse of war that shall condemn
our “father”figure killed unto them
those who hate and those who loathe
here today there is no love
the only love that lingers here
is found within a million tears
in those who cry for them and all
and those who have but yet to fall
Fallen angels we shall mourn
there spirit shall be newly born
a new light place they have found
they no more linger on the ground
no more here to witness this war
while we are here to bring them peace
instead of less we give more war
and the villagers that weep for freedom
we are they’re saviors and we shall lead them through battles and hard times
through family and Friendly kind
we shall stick together and get out of here as one
but as long as were here we shall make as much fun
as we can, for those angels who we have yet to remember
from the day they arrived on the fifthteenth of September.

Rob Curtis ­ 4/17/97
numbered like the grains of sand
on unfettered stands of unnamed sun specked beaches
shining in a vacuumed blackness as though there will never be enough light
nuclear burn burn so hot it hurts just to imagine
holding moons and planets comets and meteors
held in galaxies in a universe
held in universes unimagined
captured though in a straight line frame of time indirectly to my eyes
and yet unbounded by the speed of light
that serves as half a heartbeat in the breast of our creator
fifteen billion years young they say
give or take
I want to know
where do you go
when earthling telescopes see fifteen billion and one

Four Musings on a Sunday Morning, 8/28/05
by Bill Albright

Wide World
Where in the wide world
is the time of when in the wide world
what happens in the wide world
or who in the wide world
obtains answers from the wide why world.

The beast
is lust, chained,
leashed or caged.
Successful attempts
to manage its passion
requires patience, aging.

Language of Birds
Whose knowledge of life is truth?
A voice from the somewhere of my mind
answered, "You will know that
when you understand the language of birds."

Life's links of you,
them, here, there, afar
quests, beginnings and ends
are sane only if
the mind's chain is unbroken.

Death's  Remedy
     Anna   Dingman
                   Puff, Puff, pass that’s how it goes
                   Around and around until  you  cant fill your toes
                   The stupid life of getting high
                   Waving  all your real friends goodbye
                   Now all you worry about is getting a buzz
                   And now you’ve started angel dust
                   A week later here comes a meth bust
                   So here you are sitting in court
                   Wishing you had some cocaine to snort
                   What else worse do you think you can do
                   Heroin, needles? No that’s not you
                   Three months of ecstasy and a dirty needle later here we are
                   Six feet under
                    In a casket, a cradle, basically a jar
                   Where are you now somewhere far, far away
                    But this time you have no choice but to stay
                    Now you wish you didn’t live your life like that
                    You no longer think everything is cool and Phat
                    Puff, Puff pass that’s how it started
                     Let it take over and you’ll be dearly departed.


                             Jeremy King
              Listen unto me brothers
                 For a new kingdom will rise
              I'm here to uncover this veil on your eyes
         Though many may question these words I shall speak
              I will increase your perception since now you are weak
        I open these doors to a better life
                 Just take the mark on your hand by the blade of my knife
                     I'm taking a stand, a revolt  to your god
                Now disobey his command, for I'll expose this fraud
           Your god is naught,...made just but of air
     Without a sense of hearing, cant listen to your screams or despairs
           I see not why you keep on fearing
        Your god is weak and feeble minded, sitting on his thrown
   But he has you are blinded...thinking you have a home
         Your god is false, not reincarnation
                  Nor was he who created us all
       For this will be your retardation
                 Leading to your fall!


Oh, just look at them!
Our swallows don't fly, they dance
through the heavens!

tao tammes,

That scare-crow waved
at me, before returning
to work- amazing!

tao tammes,

The tide was in such
a hurry this morning, I thought:
It's just like us!

tao tammes,


Krystle Blackshire
I envy the bird
that sits in the tree
I envy the bird
because it is free
I envy the bird
that's high in the sky
I envy the bird
because it can fly
I envy the bird
that can do as it please
I envy the bird
because it can leave
I envy the bird
that is not me
I envy the bird
because it is free


Breezy Twilight
Insaf Jaleel 
The time for shadows has past
And now the cool air that makes you thirsty.
No one can speak because the sun has set
And the stars sprinkle into the milky blue-black sky.
I am in a dash for four miles in an hour’s time.
My eyes are on the grass knotting around my steps
And my ears follow my heartbeat mixing with the breeze.
Ahh, this breeze reminds me to look up to the stars.
I remember these stars in a dream.
They were affixed to a transient image of beauty.
I had been a child in my mother’s arms.
The flowers surround her
And she is always smiling.
Catch up with my memories.
This cool breeze would never have been
Had I not saw in one second
The dreams of my world tumbling to the end.

Interior mind
Guido Monte
(transl.into English by Liliana Lo Giudice)

With the Golden Bough, you enter
                 the earth wide opened mouth
to the subterranean sky,
 to the very end of darkness
 and hollow, under the dull light
                      of the black sun­
you pass oceans of shadows,
 beaches of fallen leaves,
the Angelus Novus who lets not looking backwards
 people cross - you overtake the Father,
 enlightened  by fires of future lives,
pointing to the ivory door of misleading dreams.
An interior, hidden mind spreads around the universe-                                                             
  if eyes opened even for a moment,
 they could see how things really are:
 slow drops of rain on a window pane.


The Painter 
Cut have I myself today.
I see only the walls falling in.
The strands of me serve no purpose,
The ripped ones colour the floor.
The men in white only preach,
They do not see what I see.
Vain were the attempts I made,
And this I shall do no more!
An artist seeking freedom probably,
The inflictions paint a masterpiece.
Today I looked for a new brush,
However I missed success.
The old one I had is over used,
Dull it has been for a while,
And wide and rough are its strokes,
Yet continue I must with it.
The world needs this knowledge,
Even if they want it not.


(PS- The title is a riddle!)
~Ivan Gladbery
from northern face of my windows pain
my pine for you inside my brain
longing much your graceful clasp
around mine neck and heart so fast
as music twangs behind my ears
to soften distant words and tears
such ache inside like a diamonds crack
of wonder whence you’ll chance come back
most moments glittered dust and sour
sans magnificent gentle flower
porcelain lily dew dropped skin
which I am under but not within

Psalm of Dereliction
(Cate Espener - 2003)
Me with Mary, Joseph and the wean
Four symbols pounding pavement in the rain
No shelter to be found this weary night
To rest against the careless frown
Of earth's relentless curve
And the one great star above
That single eye of love to feed upon
Then moving on to another place of no regard
Sweet Mary lays her poor head down
Upon an empty sullen ground
No one to wipe the tears from hunger's brow
And as we all sit waiting for the babe
To make our innocence alive again
A cloud floats by as invokation to the sky
While earth's fond mouth denies
The tiny bundle wakes and cries
Another life, another story yet to tell
Once scribed by pen then wiped away again
The one great egg is once more broken
The crack of a delicate shell.

    by Jameel Heath
Lightside burning while the nightside's turning,
in between the wise lay painfully learning,
casting off clay while walking with karma,
come forth! come forth by light of day,
who knows the words a Krist must say,
Sun crowned conqueror, this time foretold,
with spears full of ink, it's Pisces he'll slay,
gazing westward, death makes clear,
a heavy point in time draws near,
who's this sixth son whose face I can't see,
in the water that's pooling he soon appears,
calling down demons to preach The Law,
certainly showing no signs of fear,
arise! arise from hidden eyes,
the one which sees more than reflected light,
the one attached to something that never dies,
join now this twilight flight,
when dawn comes we'll separate truth from lies.


The Man Of Mad And Happy
Jordan Miesbauer
The madness that he has
when every else has none
He gets in my face
and says all that I hate
The room is colored red now
but I lock myself in it
letting it slowly dissolve
until it's painted blue
And then I can finally come out
but only to face his red brick wall
that he will never break
And then I get disgusted
just sitting next to this cold, red brick wall
Then just like it never happened,
his red brick wall disappears without a trace
leaving only his smiling blue sky above him.

Kenneth Maswabi (Australia)
I am lost, lost in thoughts, lost in dreams… lost!
My mind lays here stagnant,
My brain has locked, unable to wake me up.
I am consumed by the endless pain of loneliness in the mist of this desert.
My body aches with the pangs of the sun.
My skin screams at me in pain,
my conscious refuses to give in
My heart has slowed down, my veins are dry.
I am thirsty, thirsty for the drops of rain, 
beautiful drops of love, hope and life.
My mouth has dried, no pools of water drains my throat anymore.
My stomach cries with hunger, songs of poverty surrounds me;
I am tormented, tormented by the whispers of my throat, questions from my heart, answers gone, gone with the winds…the vapors of the evening.
I am lost,
a wasp on the newspaper -
save the apple-tree
heavy with fruit

Iliana Ilieva


Mind Monsters
By David O'Neal
When night is deep, monsters creep,
Children, men and women weep.
No one  dares to fall  asleep;
Monsters creep when night is deep.
When mind fiends fright, peace takes flight.
Nightmares hold us trembling tight,
And assault us in the night.
Peace takes flight when mind fiends fright.
When minds can’t rest, we protest -
It is a harsh mental test;
Devil’s thoughts do us molest.
We protest when minds can’t rest.
We think we’ll die, then we cry
When ghosts look us in the eye.
We seek relief from on high,
Then we cry, we think we’ll die.
Nights that stun are never done,
No place to hide, no place to run.
Please God! We yearn for the sun.
Never done are nights that stun.

Looking Up

Nick Uebelman   
Gracefully drifting through holes left in reason
Delicately dancing down to taste every season
I'll watch you sun, you'll warm my face
I wish I could offer something, something other than space.
As your beams float down, a thick border of light midst shade
The freedom to pick up and run, guided by the option to stay
The gift of the world lies solely complete
Whether the chill of the winter, or the mid-summers heat.
Though sometimes the rain can fall so hard
It's drops; the weight of the world
Sometimes it's saddening sheets of spray
Seem to overflow the curb.
It cannot go on forever
No matter what they say
As long as I can take a breath
I can wait until that day.
So when it gets bad, I know it could be worse
When the faces that we chase always seem to submerge
In the darkness and the hate, in which we create
Leaving shells of their souls on the side to waste.
Please warm my face, that's all I ask
On those days of pain which cannot last
I know myself and I know what is true
To warm my face, is all I ask of you.


What is Green
Nathan Rayes

Green is the color of various foods
Green is a forest.
It’s the sound of a chorus,
If you could see a bird singing;
It would appear in a several greens.
The color green can always be seen,
Even when you close your eyes.
Green is a swamp.
Green is whatever you make it.


The Hitchhiker's Way
It was late in the night when he rose from his sleep
And decided to ride to New England.
On his way the next day, he found that each road was steep
And that Earth’s but a prize for the proud man.
He has a radical’s soul and a hitchhiker's thumb
A Boston man’s accent and that old Irish charm.
But it is all worth nothing to those few promised some
Whose brave fighting men will never disarm.
He says, "Life spins 'round
Like a merry-go-round...
Like a little boy’s top in an old Catholic town        
Like the toy of the child who is my own lost son
Who’s a long ways away, and cannot be found.
But he will be...
But he will be...
But he will be..."
There was a hitchhiker thumbing a ride to the sun,
Just to find himself face to face with a friend's gun.
He said, "Truth be told, I've lost my way
And I see that you've lost yours.
And there is not much more to say
For all has been said, nothing more.
Just tell me this, my dear friend gone astray,
Along the way, was it fun?
So said the hitchhiker to his friend,
His friend facing him with his gun.
And said the sad man, in return to his friend,
"Sadly, I've not found my way.
But though the way rough and the perils hard,
I suppose we had fun in the end.
Yes, I do think it was fun in the end.
So said the sad man from behind the gun
He was pointing towards his friend.
The hitchhiker’s thoughts were spinning around
And he suddenly thought of his father at home,
And he repeated the maxim of that old proud man:  
"There will always be trouble for we who roam.
Yes, we wanderers are always a poor lot indeed,
 For we never are having a home.”
The friend lowered his gun and he lifted his gaze,
And he said, “A worthy saw, of one so brave
As to set out with no idea of his fate
Or of what will go on in the end.
But, listen closely to what this one says,”
So said the hitchhiker’s friend.
“The way you choose to feel about life
Is your life’s biggest choice to make,
But, regardless of what path you choose,
Your destiny is God’s to dictate.
And always, no matter what you choose
You will constantly meet with fate.
Like Adam and Eve, and the apple they ate,
You will certainly meet with your fate.”
So saying, the hitchhiker’s friend tuned around,
And shouldered his gun, and then went away,
And left the hitchhiker to think of his words
And eventually, he, too, went on his way.
And he wandered the road,
And he met with his fate,
And he met with the humble, the proud, and the great,
And he never forgot that the choices he’d make
Were the most vital things that he owned.
No, he never forgot his decisions were his,
And the most vital things that he owned.
He sat in the shade of an oak tree one day,
And to himself hummed a song without tune:
“They tell me”, sang he,
“That the fork and the spoon
Ran away, and are not to be seen.
They are said to be lost, and they won't be found soon
But they will be...
But they will be...
But they will be...”
He fell back into a profound sleep
And dreamed of the days of his unblistered hands  
And the days of dreaming, the days of the weak,
And the days of living upon his homeland.
And it seemed that he said to himself in his sleep:
“It will still be...
It will still be...
It will still be...”
And one day, he met an old hitchhiker's son,
Who was thumbing a ride towards Boston.
The man said, "Truth be told, I've lost my poor way,
For my life no longer has any sun.
But I can keep living, day after day,
And listen to what others before me say,
And we shall see in the end who has won.
Yes, we’ll see in the end who has won."

Continue in OPEN MIC ENCORE I.



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