OPEN MIC Open to Poets, Writers, Musicians, Comedians, Actors, etc.
NEW RULE: Only the first 15 people who sign-up on the list are guaranteed a spot. After that it is as time allows.
Here's a sneak peak of some of the poetry:
By: Mary Aneeta Mann
The Rights of Mother Earth
What is a human? Who is he?
What rights does he haveOver me?
I am the earth, from sea to shining sea.
This is my land I am the earth
What rights do you haveOver me? Who gave you the right To pummel meWith mortars, shells and high artillery? Who gave you the rightTo torch my land,Pollute my air and maim my hand?
I who give you sustenance, give you everything you need, Clear skies and trees to shade you,Water to irrigate my landIn places of your choosing,Fruits and nuts and olivesAnd frankincense and myrrh,I who am your total providerWhy should you not demurTo me in all my beauty?What right do you think you haveTo destroy me?
I, I who could roll you overnto a sea of non-beingness,Why, why do you so harm meWith never a backward glance,Never a sigh for my treasures,Why do you tempt me humans,Are you not born of me?Do you not know my power?
Why do you not stand in awe of me?You who fire the mortars,That churn up my grassy knolls,And tear great chasms in my hillsides,You who fire the mortars,And you who make the shells,And you who aid and abet them,And vote for my demise,You are all, all terrorists to meYou are all, all terrorists to meFor I am the one who bore youI am your Mother,Your Mother Earth!
By: Maryam Mottahedeh
A Wonderful Snowflake
The snow flake of wonder
Flowing with the wind
Finds its way to my window
On the other side of the glass mirror
On a two way street
I look to find you
There finding me
And through my window looking in
And I into you
And I wonder
How far will you see into me
And how near will I see you to me
About the fixtures you may recognize
And those I’ll remember
The air in each our rooms unique
And oh just how familiar might it be
Will my wonder turn into an Aha
I wonder what lights I’ll turn on first
Or find lit in you
And what may lay unspoken
A candle is lit
In these corridors of wonder
Flickering like stars
In the eyes of a snow flakeBy: Radomir Luza
When the sun knocks the moon out of meAnd the grass grows on some other meadow
I follow the muse of my lightest hourTo the Autumn in the stars
And the cotton candy hillsWilling to kiss the Silver soil
Like the bear-colored mountains Do the bubble gum sky
The parade of glancing ideals and canny crevicesDoes not finish
The singular subjective orThe oblong objective
It adds to the entree of Rubber hearts and plastic souls
And the goulash of soiled swaggers and Dusty door frames.