OPEN MIC
August, September, October
1996

--*--

POETRY MAN

POETRY MAN

I KNOW THAT YOU CAN

UNDERSTAND

HOW LOVE AND HAPPINESS INTERTWINED

CAN SOMETIMES SOUR ON THE VINE

HOW CAN I

CAN LOVE A YOU

HOW WINDS OF BITTER YESTERDAYS

CAN BLOW INTO SWEET TOMMORROWS TOO

--*--

I need to be free...

I need to be shut up in a small, dark, and warm room.

I need to go crazy...

I need serious conversation.

I need chaos, but at the same time I require order in my life.

I want to be alone...

I wish to be around every friend I have.

I wish to destroy humanity...

I want to give my life to save a stranger.

My life, just as any other Man's, is a Paradox.

--*--

The Sands

My heart sings a tale,

A story of dreams,

That is whispered across the ocean,

And told among the fairies in the sand.

--*--

On going gentle

I'm going gentle making my bed

under the face of night

and sinking down

drifting

I lift my hands

fingers stroking

ebony strands

swimming a velvet void

I'll scoop armfuls of stars to my breast

and kiss

that quartermoon smile.

--*--

I am a rocky river

ever churning

rarely trickling

glistening

through the seasons

of her changing banks.

--*--

May the spirit

of forgotten love

touch you gently

on the face.

The truth

of inspired utterance

quietly erase

the pain and shame

and disappointment,

the disenchantment

you must have felt.

Let it go,

evaporate,

be gone

without a trace

--*--

Anger

takes to ink

and smears itself

across my paper

in a desperate attempt

to name the beast

who's art is concealment,

craft is confusion.

Will, in the naming,

light be forced

down the throat of denial,

to shine

through the bowles

of truth?

Will peace and sanity reign

in hate and lunacy?

--*--

My branches all

have fallen off

around me they lay.

Unencumbered

in my desolation,

fluid

like blood

courses

through my phanton veins.

--*--

Rhymes

can not ease

this struggle.

This one

will not be pacified

with partial insight.

This one wants more.

Is there some

magic

which can transform

her existance

into an expression?

Will she ever know passion?

Passion lies

locked in a box

on a shelf

in a closet, with no key.

--*--

Confusion

creeping 'round my backdoor

broke in,

knocked me on the head

and made off with my heart.

Waking

to no song of joy

you were colorless

to my blind eyes,

alone.

--*--

Sitting in solitude

among thoughts of the day

I find myself wondering

if I can stay.

Don't you know I'm trying

striving to be

a person you can lean on

as the world

inevitably

goes its way?

Most people need someone

I don't wish

to walk alone

but alone

is better than wrong

as we all stumble along.

Hold me

your arms comfort

the off-beats of darkness.

--*--

Doctor I'm gone

and I can't return.

Can you hear me

cry, then sigh

to carry on?

I was outside

awhile ago, listening

to the sometimes silent

sound of crickets.

A full moon

reflecting an overcast mood

showed one star

I forgot to wish upon.

Wishing my life away

unable to produce productive dreams,

dreaming of what I don't know,

won't know because

I can't get him off my mind. He could be

anyone, getting me down by not being around,

I cannot make a sound tonight.

--*--

THE SEED

flowing like water

dripping like sand

as the two of us walk

through this wasteland

the map we can no longer read

lost, but this looks like a good enough place

to plant the seed

not of rose

not of weed

but of life we'll plant the seed

--*--

DANCE

Crazy heads

turn and nod.

I flare my hips,

jerk my arms

madly in the air,

As my thoughts turn

in a place

beyond the beat of music.

--*--

PAYBACK

I dedicate this effort to the few who favor me-

those folks who beam approval of my sense and subtlety -

who see beyond my bluster to my ease with compromise -

who know my passion's countered by the softness in my eyes .

--*--

What should I do?

What should I say?

I didn't do anything I set out to do

That day

Well I've been walkin' so far down this urban street

Got this silver pavement at my feet

And I take a look around as I walk the wilderness

That's surroundin' me as far as I see

But it's just the same

And I know that it'll never be

The same

But I know that I'll never be

And I know what I'll never be

--*--

Lie With Me

Why must I be below you?

On the floor

At your feet

On your shag carpet

I get rug burn

I know you don't care

Come down off your chair

Come read this magazine

Come pet your dog

Come pet me

Feed me, water me, love me

Sorry if I'm too much trouble

Trade me in for a newer model.

--*--

My Secret Place

In this restless world

where taps of shoes

are everywhere.

I want a place

where no one comes

for a little while.

In this busy world

where chairs in offices

are constantly full.

I need a place

where no one socializes

or makes any deals.

A secluded place.

My secret place.

Where I can go

whenever I want to go.

Where I can laugh, cry, think,

enjoy the sun and feel the rain.

--*--

Shifting desert sands,
a flute plays
across the dunes.

--*--

BIRDS LAND ON THE ROOF OF THIS ROOM

& I am sad. They are so small &

I can hear the sound of their wings

folding as though there are

no windows between myself and them.

One roof over they squawk & shit

they hop about with something great in mind

a terrific plan to which I have not

yet been introduced, as they discuss

the weather, what to eat, where to get laid,

I sip my coffee & I am sad.

Being human thinks too much

& squawks too little.

Updated November 1, 1996

--*--

EYES OF RED

Here I think, I am dead

The look of death, eyes of red

Chanting clouds, fall aground

The eternal flame, we have found

Do not lie, Do not see

The evil lurks, within me

I burn the night, I devour day

The flaming hell, in which I stay

I grasp the world, as lightning learns

I hear the death, evil burns

Suffer life, do I dare

Will I die, do I care

I eat the pain, the food I'm fed

I cannot escape, the eyes of red

--*--

Please Stop!

How can you look in the eyes of a child

And continue to cause so much pain?

How can you hurt them again and again

When their teardrops are falling like rain?

You must stop the hitting and mental abuse

You must learn how to handle your rage,

For they are your future, and you hold the key

To humanity "coming of age".

William Johnson (the UniPoet)

--*--

Being

Blinded by a color cataract of Fall's forest wandering,

Deafened by the sounds of silent timber's thundering,

Burned by touches of vanished forever remembering,

Poisoned by a taste for ancient questions echoed answering,

Fouled by sense of timeless frittered feelings, I am.

--*--

Please forgive me

Supplicating hands and pleading eyes

A room full of blank faces

staring but no response.

Am I not chastised enough?

Do I not look sincere?

Then realisation...

Mirrors are what surround me,

I have only myself to forgive.

So I smile and a thousand faces respond.

--*--

DIEING HEART

My heart stands alone

leaving a torn wound in my chest .

My heart breaths the wreched air and dehydrates.

It's veins open their pore like mouths yearning for the taste of love,

to revive it's dieing self.

With no taste of love the heart cramps up,

convolses, ruptures,

then dies a slow painful death.

My soul takes over

laughing at my heartless self

I crying in fear

fear of my own self,

uncapable of love,

incapable of life.

--*--

The King

A quiet, empty room

Shadows long across the floor

Guards without

solitude broken only by loneliness

Decisions at hand

Impatient, yet fearful defendents

The threat of punishment

looming and inevitable

A banquet hall full of unwanted guests

Rich food with poor company

Long hours

ending with peaceful slumber

--*--

stone

wanting to chip it

--*--

LOSING FRIENDS

Sitting in the darkness

Shuddering with tears

Thinking about what happened

Brings back many fears

Why did she have to leave

Why couldn't she stay

Is it my fault that she had to leave this way

Dancing with my shadow

Talking to the wall

Next time I will be there to catch you when you fall

Katy Hanlon

--*--

Rituals for Habit

In this city

I am hardened by right angles

concrete and wired sky.

Neon signs insinuate

that here

I will be reduced to sell

my treasures for pocket change

and my rituals for habit.

Shelley Cowan copyright 1996

--*--