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In July, we took the open mic upstairs at Bossa, as we’ve done in the past, and had an awesome time. It was a full house of new friends and old, listening to inspiring words that touched our souls. We also bid our friend Denise bon voyage, as she sets off for her home state, Alaska, to help fight for indigenous people’s lands and rights. Here are some highlights…

Jeff wants to tear down that rag, that old confederate hag, that racist traderist flag.

Kinika wonders, why do people come into each other’s lives with their bullshit?

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

Michael asked Emma, who wrote the Statue of Liberty plaque…didn’t you see when my boat came in?

Daisy showed us eruption: fissures in her soul fight to take control; no fake precautions, no more pretending calm; let the lava flow.

Luis sees we are livin’ in a corrupt nation where tough bacon know they can just slay men.

Denise warned us in her poem Isohuti that an Alaskan village will be devoured by the ocean in ten years. Instead of keeping quiet, I rise alongside native brothers, sisters, and allies.

Shahid said the snow that finds the earth sticks, in expanding white patches; its counterparts on the asphalt, atomized, fade quickly.

April with her flute captured the warrior, war woman–catch the light of the moon bow.

Jess rocked her DC Poem Song.

We’ll see you again at Bossa (2463 18th ST. NW DC) in August on the second Tuesday, 8/11, 7-9 PM. Go write!

We had a another great night at Bossa in June. DC Poetry Project members joined us again and strutted their stuff. We also said bon voyage to one of our founding members, Shahid, who is moving to San Francisco. No doubt he’ll be back in DC for visits, and in the meantime he’ll be rockin’ out with the SF poets. Here are some highlights…

Michael explained the ain’t of what is…it is what it is, isn’t it?

Denise shared some OPP, Soft, by Chrystos: I am a woman turning you in my arms like air; Time fishes for new water.

Shahid told us that from Ferguson to Jerusalem we pay the real criminals in the world with badges and guns.

Jeff thinks everyone must pay the cost of greed over need; colorful rainbows and pretty flowers won’t help you here.

John brought on the McVeggie–the fun begins here–and the Maharaja Mac–whatever it is, you’ll crave one of these.

Gowri said your poem stole her brother’s lunch.

Pete is Peter Piper, the balloon maker, he sells smiles…miles and miles of smiles.

Kate spoke of the joy of freedom: look at him go, round and round; this city, big as a continent; he still lives in innocence.

Suzi’s first response to violence is “why?”. Her first response to anything beyond pleasure is “why?”.

Luis let us come step into his mind and take a tour.

Karima wants your heart to resemble a feather, light and airy; be gentle with you, blue, there’s a whole world waiting on you.

And we’ll be waiting for you at Bossa, next second Tuesday of the month. See you there!

The GPI open mic at Bossa in May was hot! Old friends came out of the woodwork to strut their stuff, new artists wowed us with their wonderful words, and people were moved to rhythmic collaboration. Some of the new folks included members of The DC Poetry Project, who we’ll be seeing a little more often at our Bossa open mics every second Tuesday of the month. Here are some highlights from the night:

John gave us some rabbit moon haiku action, then spun his sweet, sharp, and soooo dangerous bottle of ginger-vodka round and round.

Michael put us into uncomfortable silence in the demilitarized zone as we experienced the anxiety of war, and then he echoed.

Luis let us behold the dawn because we’re bringing the light; while they’re reaching for their pieces, we’re just bringing the peace.

Jessica was straight thinkin’ with the Lincoln, feelin’ so clear, seein’ it’s just you plus me plus them that makes us all a bit of we.

Pierre continues to fight the fight for his blackness to become a common American character, so he can spread his wings and fly.

Damian flows whether or not people notice, but he’s chillin’ in the light, talkin’ about flowers and shit.

Sly saluted the dreamer: learn how to kiss fire, while hugging an inferno.

Laurie showed us how America is consuming, consUMING, CONSUMING, and told us that white people don’t have to be racist to say something racist.

Rob strummed to his little love, ’cause he’s bound for Shady Grove.

Are you bound for Bossa on Tuesday, June 9th? Meet us there at 7 PM to get on the list and share your bliss. See you at the next open mic!

[You can hear Michael on his web radio show DC Poetry Project. You can often see Pierre at Spirits and Lyrics open mics in Rockville, MD every last Sunday; in Manassas, VA every Tuesday, and in Rochester, NY every third Saturday.]

Thanks to all who came out to Bossa in April! New faces and old friends stopped by to share their thoughts through beautiful inspiring words and rhythms. Here are some highlights:

Shahid called on us to raise our voice, make a choice, ’cause our leaders have no vision, just callus disregard for this world where we’re all livin.’

Jess experimented with peace valuation and tried to shake off her bullshit, bullshit.

John spoke of the magic gargoyle, hands that hold warm gentle pears, our dearest ancient ancestor, and the earth exhaling I am, I must be.

Kristina is cool. She’s chillin.’

Paul said it is a mistake to forget the beauty of a man lying in wait, ready to be opened, teased to the surface.

Josie OPP’d Khalil Gibran…when love beckons to you, follow him.

Matt recalled the flight of blackbirds, the backpack with seams spreading, the homeless who have nothing to show you other than a dawn you’ve never yet stayed up for.

Melissa asked when we extract who will react? For the next generation, damnation, with our gas filled cars. Mining underminding in the name of progress, democracy.

There will be much more of this to hear at our next open mic. See you at Bossa, 2463 18th St. NW DC, on Tuesday, May 12th, 7-9 PM!

Please join us every second Tuesday of the month at Bossa, 2463 18th St. NW, DC 20009. Our open mic is 7-9 PM, and it’s usually followed by a great band.

Hope to see you at the next one!:

Bossa, Tuesday, April 14, 2015, 7-9 PM

In February and March, the Guerrilla Poetry Insurgency held inspiring open mics at Bossa. Our usual host, Jessica, was away both months, but we had awesome subs there (Catherine, Elizabeth, and Shahid) to keep the rhythm going.

If you are interested in being on the substitute host list, start coming out to GPI a little more often, and talk to Jessica while you’re there. Hosting is a great way to learn about your fellow poets, practice on the mic, and hone your blogging skills. (Yes, your interpretation of the night could be immortalized on this website.)

Hope we see you at Bossa in Adams Morgan on the next second Tuesday of the month!

We kicked off 2015 in poetic style with many friends stopping by Bossa in January. If the night showed me anything, it’s that it’ll be a great year for poetry. So much going on in the world, so much to share. Here are some highlights:

Shahid reminded us that we fought a world war to establish human rights. America wants more war, and it shows.

Catherine’s love guzzle was profound: though you’re still alive, you seem to live to die.

Luis asked what sponge can properly clean with dirty water? Love is the weapon that steadies the infections.

Jess is always coming to say Down to Oppression, yo! Holy crap, there’s no more bullshit!

Catherine’s metro ride captured teabags tingling heavy eyelids next stop Judiciary Square.

Emmanuel warned that power concedes nothing if you ask it for favors.

Gowri represented her state in DC as a spelling nerd. She is from JFK airport…red chilis dripping oil…from an island to an empire.

Luis talked about the superficial age we’re living in—raising children as if their innocence is limitless.

Wilfred introduced us to a new idea…the H Police. The Hug Police. Put those tickets to good use and get a hug before you blow your fuse.

Emmanual talked about his [and men’s] link to women: I am the shell of a woman. Since I was born I was under the spell of a woman, because I gave hell to a woman. What happens to a dream deferred is exactly what happens to a queen deferred.

Elizabeth blew in and gave us a moment of her mind: Life passes through the death, through the breath. Breath is divine, so all life matters. I won’t breathe until you come back around and rise with a new life and invigoration.

Gowri also gave us this: Despite the rules about how we’re supposed to talk, poetry gives us an excuse to break them and call it…being creative.

Come out to Bossa and be creative with us! We’ll see you there next month on Tuesday, February 10th.

We wrapped up the year nicely at Bossa in December. GPI vets and new voices shared their varied perspectives, rhythms, and rhymes. l saw once again how poetry brings us together and can help us peacefully explore our differences. Here are some highlights:

Since it was holiday time, Catherine shared her Christmas carol, Fascism is Coming to Town: They hear you when you’re speaking upon your telephone…[I can't remember the rest of this rhyme but perhaps it ends with "drone"] oh!

Shahid sang, we can’t turn a blind eye to the challenges we find. There’s a Mike Brown in every town. Death machines in million dollar cases. Justice is hard to find in this world.

Yerusalem said the power to forgive is the power to free oneself from the pit.

Jess recited her DC Poem Song: Pigeon sittin on a statue head, Vacuum cleaner in the street-ah, Liquor bottles in window cases, Kissy people meet and greet…

Kayla told us about her trip to Palestine. She is told she has a birth right…you belong here…they don’t belong here…spinning from propaganda. My brothers and sisters, we cannot heal through hurting.

Lindsey: Tell me your story, and I will listen. Your story is important. Your story is clear and brave.

Catherine asked, am I killing you, me? Am I making you turn your back?

Hawah told us about OCU’s new movie Fly by Light and mentioned that a funny quirk of realization is re-realizing. As beautiful as religion can be, it can also be destructive. The world is not even ours—speciesism is just like racism and sexism.

Ooh la la. Love those deep thoughts! Join us at Bossa, 2463 18th St. NW DC,d every second Tuesday of the month 7-9 PM. See you next time!

Thanks to all who came out in November! We had a great time as always at Bossa. Catherine B. Krause, who found us in October, became our impromptu feature. You can see more of her work at

Here are the open mic highlights…

Luis focused, got down in the lotus, because clarity’s a rarity but lessons are profound.

Jess spoke of the misaligned timing of the sexes’ gonad development, and its impact on life choices. (in rhyme, of course)

Catherine gave us a sampling from three of her books. The latest is called Ignore This Book.
Some tasty nuggets:
- From Classifieds…Journal for sale belonged to our grandfather, he bought it before the war, never wrote in it.
- From The Leopard Slug…I’m on the swing set, pulling on the chains trying to swing high enough to flip over the bar, but I get scared and jump, and there’s a reason, ’cause nothing good can come once you lose that instinct.
- From Ignore This Book,”The Herd”…the giant erect cocks of the elephants around the watering hole; the woman who talks to the planes–the pills, the pills, the pills.
- And…My muse, who lives in coffee, may your name be holy, your creativity come and your will be done in my poetry as it was in Berryman’s.

Shahid asked us to remember who we are in our own skin rinds. He reminded us that our masters will be hobnobbing in the Hamptons, and here’s the crazy part…we thank them when we get a raise. We don’t have to settle for that shit.

Sarah practiced radical forgiveness: I blame myself for… I blame you for… (and love and understanding was felt by all)

Luis told us integrity is a necessity in this life rife with inequity and what we seep our children soak up like a sponge. Take only what you need. You don’t need it, let it be.

There’s more to share and hear at the next poetry open mic. We’re at Bossa, 2463 18th St. NW DC, every 2nd Tuesday of the month, 7-9 PM. See you on December 9th!

Hi all! We had a great time at Bossa in October. We had a rare feature Pasckie Pascua, who was on an east cost tour with his new book, “Red is the Color of my Night.” We first met Pasckie at our Dupont Circle open mics years ago. He resides in North Carolina. We also had our usual band of GPIers along with some new faces sharing their words and bringing their spirit to the stage. The highlights:

You can’t keep Jess down with no pain, because we’re going to get it–we are.

Pasckie revealed his loneliness in the land of milk and honey, where he can hear his heart howl.

Catherine showed us the voices yelling at her to get her shit together, when she was 18 she had an excuse.

Chris freestyled about Barry Farm–people tilled their land and passed livelihoods on to the next of kin, the generation nowadays see corporate colonies sneaking back without rationalization; families being threatened by displacement, the most vulnerable people in DC now in a legal and political fight.

Amy read a Poem for Peace…if only every one of us will realize that we are the people, we are the peace poem.

Chip shared with us The Night the Carousel Burned Down, written while in prison in Cambodia. Twilight–all I see are severed petals falling from the sky.

Catherine said mom’s goal was to graduate college, but dad’s goal was mom.

Passkie was an activist in the Philippines. When he was 9 years old, he managed a baseball team. Didn’t have enough gear, and raised the money for uniforms and shoes. Then he lived in the mountains and covered war, the faces within the faces don’t wind up on paper. No one remembers war but the wind.

Shahid warned that agencies assume guilt by association…here at camp x-ray you will say we can’t apply the law equally; the thing you won’t find in any jail is justice. Welcome to the terrordrome.

Much more of that was heard and felt. What will your voice add to the mix? Hope to see you out at Bossa in November!

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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