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Thanks to all who came to Bossa in November! We had a great time feeding off each others’ energy and poetry, and we even inspired some new poets to arise from the audience. Here are some highlights…

Jessica constructed blocks and patterns of love.

Luis massaged our nerves with his verbal collages and solar army.

Flavia let us know the story of her life from boxes spread all over the world.

Don raised our hopes before “they” could chop them down.

Maya OPP’d Ben Folds Five…there’s always someone cooler than you.

Sean brought 360 Mafia’s Tripe Six Clubhouse to our house.

Natalie gave us Winning words from Emily Hanes: All our songs will be lullabies in no time.

And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Come on out to Bossa in November on the second Tuesday of the month, 11/10. We’ll have a special night to say bon voyage to our very own Flavia Loures. Hope you can join us!

It felt like old times in October, with veteran guerrillas on stage and in the audience downstairs at Bossa. New faces added their creativity to the scene, and everyone got a little musical interlude in between. Highlights:

Elizabeth condemned the Darwinian figures of the shutdown. Furlough sounds like a new kind of Brazilian wax.

Shahid reminded us how the NSA breaks the law everyday and we the people are the ones the agencies are abusin’.

Jess freestyled her mind to the beats of her peeps in their seats.

Adam gave us his polar bear rap.

Steve helped us see where mankind went astray…that apple tasted good.

Hawah read The Feather from the Poetry of Yoga vol. 2: My burden was a fire that you taught me was a lantern.

And many more ideas were spread…


Hope to see you out at Bossa on the next second-Tuesday-of-the-month night!

A b u

little Lynndie England

flaunting her body

John Chivington

Corporal Charles Graner

stacking Iraqis


Governor John Evans ordered


Don Rumsfeld

corpse in the bag


sand in the mouth

Mt. Evans

Bush Library


tiny skulls

litter the field

Hi folks! We’re at Bossa Bistro & Lounge every second Tuesday of the month. Join us there, 2463 18th St. NW DC, on January 14th 7-9 PM for the first open mic of 2014.


What a great line up we had at September’s open mic. Vets Damian, Gowri, Rob, Lyndi, and Jessica were in the house, with special appearances by Radio Rahim and LA-based poet Mark. The night capped off with a five-person cypher, from which inspiration and silliness flowed. Highlights:

Damian fell in love but he shouldn’t have fallin’ in love but he shoulda.

Gowri remembered…we hold hands when we leap from a building, whether or not we can fly.

Jessica’s ambition makes a mission of her wishin’ for distinction.

Rob made musings without moorings…in terms of the space race, the early bird gets the worm hole.

Mark was just trying to figure out why he moves, struggling to live up to his own richter scale.

Radio Rahim, the creator, really needs a savior, but he’s trying to create from within; if you cut off his limbs, he’d let the blood out and the poetry [be] an elixir.

Damian’s a fella that’s the future of his history.
Jessica is calling out no more war.
Rob got stood up, hurt so bad he had to sit down.
Mark’s not normal, he’s got a hybrid soul.
Lyndi was straight up free-stylin’.
Radio Rahim’s soul was created before his body existed.
Gowri says speak truth, open up, say ahhhh.

What will we be saying next month? Well, you’ll just have to come out to hear and share.

We had an excellent night of poetry at Bossa in August. New faces and GPI vets shared their hearts and minds in poetic and even comedic verses, and we all got to know each other a little bit better. Ah, GPI. Here are some words that stuck out for me:

Laurie brought some old school Jon Miller to the mix, because he’d put a vibrator on her conscience.

Durrell recalled their relationship as one-of-a-kind–he saw it, he knew it, it passed him by.

Jess gave a rather annoyed impression of the press.

Rob asked how can people fall in love and fall out of love–shouldn’t people fly in love and fall out of love?

Elizabeth made a comeback with an invocation of the muse; egoless pure, she comes to you to bring you bliss and lift you to the stage.

JaMichael rides her with white knuckles and pulls her knobs expertly. (ooh, la la)

Sunny prayed Shoshana, prayed that you can feel shame and love at once.

So much more was said. So much more to hear! Hope to see you out at the next one.

- Jessica

Thanks to all who came out to Coffy Café in July! We made new friends, had some firsts on the mic, and met more of our extended family. Here are the highlights…

Peter’s bard-like recitations of original poetry made us feel the sudden grasping of the asp and hunger not for all the world to sate; made us ride the brakes and smell the burn beyond the storm’s reach; and our tribe began to chant and cheer for him and his wild space marine.

Jess wondered about the McDonald’s cup on the metro sign and kind of wanted a reason for it being there, but chose nothing instead.

Dan read the poem 5 by Catullus (a Latin poet of the late Roman Republic who wrote in the neoteric style of poetry) in latin and then translated in English: Let us live and love…Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred…Let us shake the abacus, so that no one may know the number…

Luis was just saying his peace—sometimes with his daughter in his arms—inviting us all to follow our hearts, take a look around to find life abounds from the sky to the ground, and feel his verbal telekinesis.

…And there was much more to hear and share. Looking forward to seeing you out in August at Bossa on 8/13 and Coffy Café on 8/22, both 7-9 PM!

Bossa was a-buzz upstairs in July, with GPI regs Luis and Jess holdin’ it down. We were joined by a lovely audience, and it was one person’s first open mic experience—we hope she enjoyed it! We wish Luis and his wife love and luck next week during the delivery of their third child. Here are some highlights:

Luis was sharp like barbed wire and helped us think about the things that really make us smile.

Jess tapped into her dreams to find the words to spin—a snap then whirl of inspiration.

Luis’s skills were outrageous—more like amazing; he’d rather be broke and outspoken than choke on the words he never had the balls to say.

Jess grossed out the girls with her romantic poem and pledged her heart to the Web of the Free and the Roam of the Brave.

Now here’s the Melange…

Behold the dawn, because we’re bringing the light
We’ve got heights in sight, but few ladders to climb
My persona’s irrelevant when demons need slaying
We’re going to get it in a big way from sea to shining sea
Who’s got a Facebook? Oh my, it’s quite a profile, ain’t it?
Amorphous beast, oh how I love thee, let me count the ways
How can we be a people, when our people are deconstructed on the regular?
I am you and you are me; no nomenclature between us—a simple function unites us

And let that simple function be the next GPI open mic. See you at Coffy Café in Columbia Heights on Thursday, 7/25. Peace.

‘Twas a lovely evening at Bossa last night. Friends brought friends, emailers became faces, thoughts illuminated the room, and love reigned. Some highlights…

And she said…Self-boom boom bap, where you going, where you at?  I don’t need more direction, I’ll just change my inflection.

Luis slowly unwrapped chains to focus, get down in the lotus, so as hate reigns he be rays of love.

Eryca crushed the drops that rained on her knees and toes, knees and toes, because her mind is multi-layered like baklava.

Toks has no identity—he is born supremacy, and music is his mountain, so he’ll take it to the peak.

Shahid flayed the NSA, which breaks the law everyday—it doesn’t matter what you do or what you say; the mission is shady.

Flavia’s ebbs and flows reminded us to love like a poet: enjoy the highs, rhyme through the lows.

Other licks…

There’s a balance, a cyclical system of principles.
Can’t keep me down with no pain.

Go fly, reach for your beloved sky.
I’m a pyromaniac and you’re a bonfire.

Our presence is pivotal.
We each have one and we share another mother.

We got a prison military industrial complex fueled by funds funneled from our paychecks.

See you next week at Coffy Café in Columbia Heights! (Thursday, 6/27, 7-9 PM)

We had a lovely intimate gathering at GPI’s Bossa open mic in May. It may have been hot outside, but we were chillin’ upstairs, spitting and chatting poetry. Special shout-out to Ally and Marisa for coming through and hanging tight. Here are the highlights:

Jessica gave them everything in her book, her head, her iPhone–talking peace, introspection, moving forward, and down to oppression.

Marisa read Poetry of Yoga OPP, Trauma Healing in Haiti–personal experience, ongoing stress, slow deep breathing, a sense of control, possibility of a future, alive with pleasure and discovery, feeling whole again in nature and with family and friends, with gratitude as well as grief.

Enk Blot came on the scene and gave us his all. He’s living in a pulp fiction, this demolition man may be stuck in a wonderland, where the loneliest words he ever said is I love you. People think to be in love you can’t be alone. Then along came a spider who confused his sixth sense as she placed him in her Charlotte’s web–igniting fires that can’t be doused. All he has is a picture of your face, when he closes his eyes. Try to keep track of what you gather and scatter and remember the thing that gets you to cherish a moment…friendship.

Looking forward to seeing you out at the next GPI open mic at Coffy Cafe in Columbia Heights on Thursday, May 30th. Keep on writing!

The DC Guerrilla Poetry Insurgency (GPI) is an anti-authoritarian, collaborative, pro-humanity artists' collective incorporating music, rhythm, spoken word, community and resistance.

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