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We had a beautiful night of poetry and inspiration at Bossa in September. Many of the ol’ GPI crew came out, as well as some newcomers. Some highlights…

Jessica kicked it off by saying Down to Oppression…There are small steps to a height, where our leaders fight, keeping power not peace, waging war in our name. We raise them to their positions, yet we never check their decisions, if we don’t pay attention, things will always be the same. We have come to say down, we have come to say down, we have come to say down, down to oppression…yeah-e-yeah. [Just sing all that.]

Shahid invoked the force: Oh be one; -no- be. We will discover a way again to rise.

Elizabeth brought us back to the year 2000, when the president stole the seat. Everyone shared what was near and dear to their hearts. Peace is not a trivial thing; it makes poetry inside ring.

Lacy showed us we are the edge. By saying that I’ve always loved you, know it to be true. I promise to come to every solstice. If we are not the roots that gently cradle each other, then we will fall into the sea. We want you to shout! We need you to shout.

Jahmel told us to stomp your hands, clap your feet, because you have things backwards, if you think there’s no black history. He calls for a brotherhood amongst all creeds and colors. This is how you show your love for me…a voice box for the voiceless; a multiple choice for the choiceless.

Carla showed that the world sounds muffled from inside, as she tumbles down this jumbled path. Through winding blue fallopians, she has been reborn.

Luis’s many micros make the macro. Come step into his mind, take a tour. Follow him as we navigate this labrynth. He’s prone to tangents, but the point is…integrity is a necessity in this life rife with complexity.

Elizabeth’s ode to Lacy was the birth of the restless spirit. Here’s to the one with the golden hair, who carved her name in the trees. I will give you salmon and salt to drown your tears. That is how the Celtic queen lured a god into her bed.

Lisa read the blocks and patterns of Jessica’s OPP.

Shahid’s cover of Prince’s When Doves Cry was fun to drum with and must be mentioned.

Luis asked, if we don’t recognize problems, then how are we to solve them? He no longer blames the system for the chains he’s twisted in.

Lacy stood in a cloud of lust and red red wine. Are you wild like her? Are you wild and ready?

Come out in October and be wild at the GPI open mic. We’ll have a special feature in October, Pasckie Pascua, an old friend from North Carolina. See you at Bossa! (Oct. 14th, 2463 18th St. NW, DC, 7-9 PM)

GPI had the pleasure of having a special visit from the New York Peace Poets at Bossa in August. These fabulous spoken word artists bring the rhythm, rhyme, and fun(k) to education and building community through art. Check them out here http://abetheprofit.wix.com/the-peace-poets-new#! Shahid hosted the night and welcomed not only the Peace Poets but a slew of other GPI vets and new voices to the mic. See you out next and every month on the second Tuesday of the month, 7-9 PM at Bossa, 2463 18th St. NW DC.

We had a lovely time at Bossa in July. Some old friends and new faces joined the fun. Here are the highlights…

Mark reminded us that Napoleon Turner used to read Langston Hughes each Sunday on WPFW. Hey Nap, where ya headin’? End of the line, got a gig. Don’t forget the blues.

Laurie asked us to shut off the auto-pilots so wisdom can catch up with technology…an age is collapsing, collapsing Aquarius…don’t delay.

Shahid warned that our casual indifference to mass human suffering reveals our babylon. Out of sight, out of mind.

Diana is not the only thing tangled in Petworth tonight.

Gowri read found poetry, an eraser poem (text by someone else, with lines taken out): The Privacy Act of 1975, Records Maintained on Individuals. Copies of the concise statements of reasons; each routine use of records in the system; established appropriate safeguard of the security of records.

Lyndi told us don’t choke on your own apathy…how can you claim you have love to give, if you stand idly by?

Mark gave us his confessions of a knuckleballer. He saw his mother run up to Gary Cooper at Idle Wild, and he slept at the New Deal Hotel, where the bed springs scratched his butt.

Laurie set me free, now I can see, the life I was livin’ wasn’t soul fulfillin’.

Shahid thinks if we had unity we could be a community, instead we’re a managerie. Our commitment to our values has been half-assed.

Diana said, hey mama; mama doesn’t laugh; there’s no sound; hey mama, what happened? We watch you watching us watch you.

Gowri OPPd Shiledya Patel’s Offering. …History is a million terrors.
(See Gowri and others every Monday at Bloombars, 3222 11th St NW DC; open mic at 9 PM.)

Galise told us that home is where he belongs, and here is where he stands. Treat here where you stand as you would treat home.

Hope to see you out at the next GPI open mic! Every second Tuesday of the month at Bossa, 2463 18th St. NW DC, 7-9 PM.

We had a full house at the GPI Bossa open mic in June. New familiar faces were there, and friends from years past stop by. One even had on a mysterious disguise. You never know who will show up at GPI. Here are some highlights…

Luis saw demons walking next to him, and now we check out his verbal collage, because we’ll be the force of energy coursing through our veins.

Lucy read of Stockholm Syndrome. Religion used as the great weapon for the perfect heist; Africa at first fought tooth and nail, but the transgression was so well orchestrated that her own children don’t even know what took place—they have forgotten. She says to Africa’s children, take back your Orishas.

She also paid homage to Maya Angelou by beautifully reading Phenomenal Woman.

Grim wants to know who’s got a camera, are you watching, are you aware of the sea butterflies and their plight, are you aware of all the names for yourself, are they right? Do you know your galactic signature?

Melanie recited The Trumpet—yesterday’s dreams are today’s cumulus nimbus. And the sun calls for the world to wake up; a hummingbird will appear to soak up.

False Prophet is one of the few good Men in Black, who knows forgiveness and trust.

Denise read OPP by Andrea Lord: I come as women dark as knight; I do come like a warrior.
She also found a native community in the District of Columbia, this place ripe with the songs of our ancestors. When will the voices of native women lead our nation again?

Shahid always feels like somebody’s watching him, while he takes the green out of the pockets of politicians.

Camila OPPd an Urdu poem by Nosha Gilani, after translated by her: I feel wherever I flash my eye an accident.

Tree Child played his guitar and sang, out here on the streets where the water roll dirty I see a lot of people hurting, and I feel bad that I can’t help every single one. (His name gave him shoes while he was singing the blues, and he still has no soul.)

Jessica was the hostess with the mostess.

Mike and Basher strummed, drummed, and danced something that I can’t see, something that is not even reality. Blessed earth for a high crime, blinded by the desires of a single soul on fire. (They realized they’ve got something to say [and interpret with movement].)

See you at Bossa again on July 8th!

- Jessica

Our open mic at Bossa in May was great! Old friends and new were in the house to share their creativity and good vibes. Here are some highlights…

Laurie serenaded us with the sounds of Spring and bemoaned our missed window of opportunity, a window on the world.

Shahid painted oblivions to the menagerie and OPP’d Sasha Fabricopa (SF crew)…you shine like a gem suspended in time.

Jess gave us her theory on the sexes and noted we’ve got heights in sight but few ladders to climb.

Ted OPP’d us some Digital Underground…alright Stop, collaborate, and listen!…with style and grace.

Sunny is too tired to write, but she cannot stop now. She wrote about the rapture, the restless bodies fearful of their souls, and to liberate you from fear. We are Jesus over and over again every time we love.

Sarah professed her ode to Jessica.

Desmond accompanied us on the drum…a nice throw-back to those Dupont Circle days.

Niki read us Langston Hughes…that justice is a blind goddess.

Thanks to all who came out! Hope to see you at the next one in June, second Tuesday, 6/10, 7-9 PM at Bossa.

- Jessica

What a night we had at Bossa in April! New people and GPI vets came out of the woodwork to add their unique perspectives and vibes to the night. Special shout out to Ilya from Austrailia, who made it a point to stop by during his travels. The GPI open mic is an event that you can leave for a few years, come back to, and still feel at home. Hope to see you at Bossa on the second Tuesday in May!

April highlights…

Ilya rhymed twinkle twinkle little soul, be my journey, be my goal; and some go play with the thunder or linger with the sea, or cry or laugh or flutter or live under a tree.
What then is my pathway?

Diana read a poem about her dad, the soft old smith–that’s who I am.
Diana, founding editor of DistrictLit.com

Jaday told us to soak in the good vibrations you are getting and understand you can learn everything. You’re looking to the sky instead of inner wealth. Look within yourself–there you will find the help.

Hawah played his funky dual-toned flute and was born to stand on this stage, on this little blue green marble floating among the stars. When before these bones and these skins trapped by spirit, when before all this began, I was free.

Denise, from a small island in Alaska where the permafrost is melting away, spoke of her village surrounded by an angry ocean and its ice fading slow, in pain; she will make sure her grandpa’s soul is not tumbling, pummeled, searching for a home.

Shahid asked what do you work toward in this world? Imagine how it could be.

Damien is back on the market, damaged but harder to manage, and starting to realize that love is the ideal state. Time for him to inspire somebody to something higher.

Jessica brought the musical messica of rhythms and rhymes.

Darius showed us the river people of the desert…I carried myself to places alone, I run as deep as though I could be swept off to another time. He counts his life not in 365 segments but by feeling how many times his heart grew in a messed up world.

Tores said…Let me free you. This is out of control. Can you feel it? You’re in the right place. Free our minds. Now’s the time.

Moon flowed anarchy on your evening commute, rules only made to broken efficiently. In a backward M.C. Escher, you’re a spin of Kandinsky. Become an alchemist of extension.

And become your own poet at the next GPI open mic at Bossa, every second Tuesday of the month. – Jessica

It was a nice little night at Bossa in March. Some of us kept the momentum going, while a cool crowd cheered us on. Thanks to all who came out! Here’s some highlights…

False Profit recited a letter to Dear Love, You can’t put anyone in love. This is no fighting competition.

Jessica can’t be gotten down with no pain, especially with Facebook.

Durrel said that in the absence of Justice, there’s a surplus of faith.

Elizabeth became a Liberty Tax dancer out there in her sneakers. She will make your day sweeter by making it completer.

Deron wants to forget about you. He can’t laugh, because he can’t cry. You really meant a difference to him.

Jess shared her smelly romantic poem.

Torres wants to see the light. He’s gonna say the true things…do you know what that means?

Well, I know what GPI means to me. It means seeing you, sharing thoughts old and new, and feeling inspired every second Tuesday of the month at Bossa. See you there! – Jessica

A b u

little Lynndie England

flaunting her body

John Chivington

Corporal Charles Graner

stacking Iraqis

 

Governor John Evans ordered

Ghraib

Don Rumsfeld

corpse in the bag

 

sand in the mouth

Mt. Evans

Bush Library

 

tiny skulls

litter the field

The GPI poets held it down and inspired even more people from the audience in February at Bossa. A few GPI vets shared some of their classics and new pieces and as always welcomed new voices to the mic. Here are a few highlights…

Shahid had been caught by colonial arachnids and is learning to be free by digging and putting roots back under his tree.

Jessica has come to say down to oppression. Yeah-ee-yeah.

Nelson said your disaster is elegant benevolence.

Nischa danced until six by the dead riverbed. She’ll hold you, so you don’t come crashing down. Can the eye of your lens magnify each moment?

Jeff misses hip hop. He misses when it was honest and vibrant and different. We lose control of our narrative everyday.

But we can get it back at places like the GPI open mic at Bossa. See you there next month on the second Tuesday, 7-9 PM. – Jessica

 

In Sha’s words…

Great show last night, everybody! Big ups to Luis, Jay, Colin, Ken (AKA Analysis), Davey, the incomparable Jessica Philie, Gibril, and anyone else I may have missed. We heard some moving poems, brilliant insights, and sweet impov musical collaborations.

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

Contact Us

For more info or to inquire about availability to perform:

(800) 886-6157
dcgpi@guerrillapoets.org

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