OPEN MIC ARCHIVES
Steven P. Imbimbo
The things I now see
aren't the things I once saw.
They don't look quite as nice
as they did when I saw.
They don't look like they're covered in silver and gold,
they look scratched, they look dull, not shiny, but old.
When I saw what I saw
things were taller than I.
Looking up at the world.
Looking down with a sigh.
I was not an old man.
just a little young boy,
looking up at the world like a shiny new toy.
I now take a deep breath,
I gaze way down low,
I look at my child,
who just seems to know,
how to laugh, and to smile
to find humor and awe.
I now see that she sees all the things I once saw.
COME TO BE SUN CENTERED
Kathy J Anderson
What can be done but find sunlight's center
When the wicked world has undone your life?
Can you conjure into mind tones of fife
Without finding where you are to enter?
The music lifts you from earth to find sun
Brightly drawing you inside its hot core
Protecting your wings from the evil hoard
As you soar toward serenities run.
Run full throttle, fly higher than your ties
Will let you go, beyond the pained thorn
Bearing upward, joy to hold, love born
Midst shadowed hates, floating above black skies.
What can we do but make sol surround us
And thank the stars sharing this one thus.
breaking the wakeful eyes ,
engulf our feetís
we are keen to watch
the uncounted structures
as we change concepts
a wish we could
hide in between our memories ,
in this red hot night
I am with you
as we plant our
Egg head enquires his way to his first fix of
Far in between, the threads and folds
Of light, that's seen in dreams
Beyond the gauge of crumpled mass
The loops and twines of life's mere instant
Rising, out of spatial scaleís
Microscopic speck perspective
Angles space atomic process
Tide, solar stretches dense and depth
Tumbling, over twists and turns
Flow and splash of rhythmic pulse
Filters air and motions water
Fluid, in lifeís in solid strands
Dictated by function
Irrelevant, in purpose
Defines insoluble swerves
Non-linear, in nature
Static in matter, electric, in liquid
Raising a pressure drop
Kinks a heated charge
Impacts on a pointís position
The random spill of colour
Spinning a fractal sky
Transiting a sensory overload
Spectrum of Behavior
as is our gender,
as is with whom we cum,
live and die.
Place our traits in billions and
we have the world's populous.
Put it into one person,
a unique individual,
and we have genius or insanity
An Educational Pledge
For Students in the Public School System
(In dedication to our Children and Youth)
Alberto O. Cappas
I pledge to maintain a healthy mind and body, staying away from the evil of
I pledge always to try my best to understand the importance of knowledge and
Painting a positive picture of where I plan to be tomorrow
Not allowing obstacles to stop the growth of my plans for the future
I pledge to seek answers to questions, understanding that the answers to
Sometimes lead to other discoveries
I pledge to work hard, with the awareness and confidence that hard work
today will serve
As the seeds for my strong tree tomorrow, a tree no one will ever be able to
I pledge to learn proper languages, beginning with my mother's,
Always prepared to appreciate others
I pledge to gain a better understanding of me, by understanding my cultural
To fully accept me as a human being, a rainbow of many cultures and colors
I pledge to overcome any personal misfortunes
Becoming stronger from such misfortunes, always striving to become
A wise personÖ
WORLD OF NOW
by Marcia Schechinger
I submit with commiseration honoring our oath
for I know the potential of you
How the fumes, that now so readily invade my nostrils
cannot be easily washed away
That you body pulsates with routine
similar to air whiffed from the foundry
How quickly you seek to be freshly showered
so you can be blinded to the world of now
I realize the exorcism it would take
to give you back the college mans dream
Every pore takes me to the surrealistic world
you cannot conquer at this moment of time
I smell whiskey on your breath
sustaining you to walk
because you feel profaned in blue collar
While your bachelors' degrees of bull
hangs on the wall
glaring, looking so important
Trample it and not proceed, if desired
For I would love you in blue or white
but never complacent in this discontentment
BY DOROTHY FOX
I came to my room, with tears in my eyes...and choking and coughing
because ONE had to have her cigarette.
Anger was in her eyes, when I said, "I regret", but asthma is not
my choice and second hand smoking was the cause..
Please I did declare, let's clear the air...go outside if
you wish to smoke, the great outdoors is no joke and
your smoke will go up into the skies and not in our lungs.
Smoking, to all of you who wish to smoke, is really no joke,
it is a destroyer of lungs and families and bronchial asthma
is no breeze.
So, happily I'm in my room, the air conditioner and humidifier
clears the air and I can write here at my computer... and the
smoker is out of my reach.
Let this be a message to all who read, of this one woman, now
85, can write, type, send e-mails, in a smoke-free environment
and my wish for all people who wish to smoke, to realize that
life is no joke.
Thank you once again, for reading this and to realize, that life
is too precious to be hurt...by second hand smoke.
THE ULTIMATE WEAPON
They charge at me with guns and tanks, ships, planes and all.
Although they fire and fire away my feeble body does not fall.
But not because I fire back or wear the greatest armor.
Because I hold the mightiest tool of man that can list all I ponder.
It reveals positions with words of secrecy and repels missiles with words of
Itís satiric words and strengthening images can shake a snipers scope.
The wordís of love and life it spreads fills the air and twists a jets
And news of despair and the lack of good care it shares with the
artillery line, is enough to shake the weapons from every mans bind.
The armies retreat with not a man fallen, the only blows anyone took were not
launched from a cannon, but from the people and the papers they read, who now
know, that a pen is the only weapon they need.
strip me bare
comb my hair
throw that dress
steal my shoes
my oh my
new girl cries
on her spine
Night time hides
fall so fast
wear a mask
on her dial
flies her kite
to new heights
with the undertow
The Plant of the Dreams
A plant border, from the window
Hour to come down I see,
It asks to me...
A lengthened arm,
one propaggine of life, for
not to see the last page
of that history, than
infinite history could be one.
S' goffers, and dimena
From one construction...
Slowly it comes down, like
I cannot make null!
Moments infinites, like
The eternity of a dream that
It never arrives, while
Here the arrival is next
To the fine word.
This film, the plant of our dreams,
it has stopped to exist,
only, the buio...
hour is eternal.
I look out my window
With two different eyes
Through one eye called
Love in people's eyes
Affection in people's hugs
Laughter in children's smiles
Through the other eye called
People killing people
Parents turning their backs on their children
Children doing drugs
What has become of this beautiful world?
Look and see
Billy E. Whitehorn
thy words rage within those echoes that have fallen between the cracks where
and somehow the pain continues
where some fools find that blindness
LOOK AND SEE
is it too much to ask?
or must fangs bare within those shadows
within that sadness
an angel is lost
could it be that some refuse to see?
I miss her warmth already
and all one wanted was a simple voice
but now it's forever gone
and my heart is full of regret
once again I ask ...WHY?
couldn't a simple kindness remain?
or must those walls close in?
I may be selfish
but she held my hand when I needed it most
why must this path arrive beyond a blindness?
that need must be met.
July 5, 2005
A MOMENTARY HOPE
As he walked along the sand
The warmth was fleeting
Cold winds hit his heart intermingled with a momentary hope
He braced himself against the winds of change
Never wanting them to come, but still they raced through him
Sands blowing as if to curse him and break him down
The relentlessness of life weighing
As he looked to the sky searching it
But no answer was there
Just the beauty thatís always been
by Spiros Zafiris
a tune arrives
and the marvel to ensue
baffles even leaves
'TWAS THE WEEK BEFORE THE BAR EXAM, AND ALL ABOUT THE HOUSE
NOT A CLEAN SQUARE WAS EVIDENT, NOT EVEN ON THE COUCH
THE BAR/BRI NOTE FOLDERS WERE SPREAD OPEN WITH CARE
IN HOPES THAT THEIR CONTENTS WOULD PERMEATE THE AIR
WHILE VISIONS OF CONTRACTS AND TORTS DANCE ' ROUND YOUR HEAD
YOU SENSE YOUR MEALTIME RESPITES LEFT TRAILS OF CRUMBS ON THE BED
IT'S CLOSE TO DAYS END AND YOU HAVE YET TO BATHE
YOUR EYES ARE ALL BLEARY, YOU 'RE WORKING LIKE A SLAVE
YOU WONDER HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS PACE YOU CAN STAND
OR JUST HOW MUCH FURTHER YOUR MIND CAN EXPAND
IT'S LOADED WITH DECISIONS AND CASES ONCE TRIED
YOU FEEL AS THOUGH YOUR BRAIN HAS BEEN IRREVOCABLY FRIED
AND JUST WHEN YOU THINK YOU CAN STUDY NO MORE
A BRAND NEW RESOLVE WILL APPEAR AT YOUR DOOR
'CAUSE SON YOU'VE GOT METTLE, AND WHAT IT TAKES, YES INDEED
YOU CAN HANDLE THIS PRESSURE AND WILL ULTIMATELY SUCCEED
SO DRAW IN A DEEP BREATH, THEN LET OUT A SIGH
FOR AS SURE AS AUTUMN FOLLOWS SUMMER, THESE DAYS WILL GO BY
AND JUST AS THE LITTLE ENGINE WHO SAID HE THOUGHT THAT HE COULD
YOU WILL BECOME A FINE ATTORNEY, THAT'S FOR CERTAIN (KNOCK ON WOOD)
A REPLY TO A MESSAGE UNKNOWN
(c) Jude Adebosoye Ogunade (July 19th,
I flew opened the pages of my mail
Here is a note from another male
Wishing me the turn of winter
When summer is all raining water!
Well, what is it about?
And who are you if I may ask?
That you put my eyes to task
By tasking me to read from you!
Well, nice to meet you
But your thoughts is from memory far
I wish I could remember
But most memories are lost in numbers
Of people we've met and many we've lost!
Introduce yourself and if it is yourselves
Nice to know another poet online
For I want a female to be mine
Enough of male nonsense and disrespect!
Menfolks have all lain bare
The family protection I never enjoyed
Leaving me with only my clothes
As my only living relations
And if you're one of the brotherhood
Sent to uncover my hiding hood
Then you've failed
For Jesus The Christ will always protect
And if you have no good news for me
Leave me and let me be
The greatest I yearn to be!
Profusion on Grosvenor Road.
Lilac stands inviolate
She retains the vein of
Her purple prose
against the off-white caterwaul
of a clematis mound
what's the worst that could happen,
what could happen that's worse
than allowing surrender,
than giving up first
before fighting the fight,
before keeping the dream
that first stood out in the luminous gleam,
in the eye of the child who once was within
who never gave up, who never gave in.
THE LAST HARBOUR
LIP SAI LIN
THE BABIES FANCY A CRADLE
THE SCHOLARS FANCY THE ď U Ē
THE WOMEN FANCY THE STRONG PROTECTIVE MEN
WHILE THE OLDSTERS
PROCEEDING NON ≠ U ≠ TURNLY FOR
THE LAST HARBOUR
------ A LOCK ≠ UP
FROM THE EXISTING WORLD
AWAY FROM BOTH HAPPINESS
AND SUFFERINGS --------
A LITTLE DISAPPOINTMENT
IS NOT THAT BAD AFTER ALL
There is more in OPEN MIC ENCORE I.
Poems Copyright ©
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