Written by Kim Righter

8-24-06
Public Defender
Spinning words, fighting fate
But my entry is late
to stop the Humpty Dumpty effect
of plummeting without a social safety net.
I meet with a boy
Purple and blue cheek
Jack-o-lantern grin
Tells me about
Par four
Dodging his dad’s golf swing –
the cool breeze passin'
by his brown ear
Silver and skin
Yeah, he confessed
He wrote the false checks,
But doesn’t want to go to jail.
And forget his existence?
He needs assistance.
What’s with the resistance
To mercy?
Criminal justice, criminal system
Living poor,
Then living in cages?

8-18-06
A pen
Held by classism
Moved by indifference
And used by an egoist.
The president approves
And with a stroke
Clouds the environment in smoke.
Commits people to choke
As they need to be fed
More than lines of propaganda.

[read first time @ GPI, Aug 7, 2006]
I was born of a prairie fire,
rejuvenation of the land.
Quietly,
I grew strong in Kansas and learned about the subtleties of humans.
Then one day the wind did blow succinctly through a valley
and ignite again my coals which had been resting,
nestling in the grasses.
Limestone walls as barricades stopped nothing but my gait
as I cooed in pleasure,
leaping over these restraints.
And everywhere my fire burns
wildflowers emerge- bob their heads.
For, a soul alight gives beauty instead of death.
So with this trip cross-country,
and a little notebook to boot,
I shine my light of love to all corners of the earth.
For,
it is my responsibility to make magic as the wind-
shaping,
scouring,
soothing the earth,
creating with my hand.

If not for the want of man

The earth would be pure again

Clear blue skies and waters sweet

Flowing meadows and willows weep

Tar and concrete smother our mother

None of her children can be uncovered

Smog and poisins blanket them quickly

All have become crippled and sickly

Rapist and murderers against creation

You preach "civilization" but deliver devistation.

Written by Mary Shymanski

Greetings from Michigan, Detroit and lively Livonia!  As I sit here at the kitchen table of my parents' place in suburban Detroit, I'm imagining the scene in DC that [I know] must still be oh-so-cool.  The house.  The music.  The back patio, the closet full of GPI acccoutrements.  The love.  I'm feeling it all right now and I'm sending all the love I have for you right back atcha. 

In addition to all that love, I'm sending a gift for the kids (that's you).  We picked up the attached Boomwhackers at a roadside attractive in northern Michigan.  Upon seeing them, we knew where they needed to go: you.  Here's to all the more music and melody the GPI's can and will create.  Here's to the respect I have for all of you and most importantly here's to the continuation of the world we dream of becoming. 

Mucho respect,

Shymanski

In San Francisco, the Collaborative Arts Insurgency (CAI) kicks it at the corner of 16th St. & Mission every Thursday night.  The community's been rockin since the summer of 2003, and welcomes new comers with open arms.  If you're in the Bay Area at any point, check it out!  

Here are some links for further information:

• An article in the SF Bay Guardian by Julia Scott (date unknown, but likely sometime in 2004)
• Video of the May 18, 2006 lyrical gathering
• Audio of the August 25, 2005 lyrical gathering
• A CD featuring 18 tracks by CAI poets.  [Check out #14, by hip-hop flautist Greg Patillo , who's since moved on to New York City, where he and other SF expats kickstarted The Fuse]
• Video from MC Lynx
  
• "The Living Poets," a poem by CAI stalwart James Marchetti
• A photo depicting the CAI's charismatic pandemonium in May, 2005
• A flyer and event announcement about an October, 2005 show 
• Reflections of a participant in September, 2005
• Relections of a frequent passerby (date unknown)
• Reflections of a passerby in August, 2005
• A rant distinguishing the CAI from the poetry slams derided by the author