April’s open mic was excellent. Good people, good vibes, even a spontaneous cypher…inspiration all around! Here are some of the highlights:

Liz came back from the Word of Mouth days to freeze you outa her head, with her id overriding her rational mind.

Damian gave us his Rorschach test and tried to write the song to make the rest of music stupid.

Bigpoppa Ben said you are art, you are an infinity mirror of possibility. Everything. Will be. Okay.

Ted OPP’d that weapons contracts corrupted American dreams–listen to the survivors.

Radio Rahim ripped a freestyle that existed to resist and spit hot lyrics that left the sun scorched.

Vanessa warned be wary of trying–sucks the impulse for the things she does (she’s dangerous). There’s nothing left to fear.

Laura spoke the new feminism, wearing no underwear in a skirt. Carpe diem.

Monique had a chip on her shoulder–angry as hell and trying to do right.

Jess went deep creek and taunted her perfectionist, all the while trying to be a comedian up there.

Come out next time and hear
What all those creative minds been thinkin’
Throw your words into the atmosphere
Or just relax and do some drinkin’.

See ya next time at Bossa…

Dirty Fucking Hippies

(this lines up well around 90 bpm….)

I had a great weekend in the People’s Republic
everything one could possibly ask for, on a stick:
connections en masse, with an entire class,
folks who — when they talk — I feel like I’m at a mass.

The space is sacred. The vibration we’re making.
makes me pause, examine myself, and stop fakin’.
They’re breaking all my shallow preconceptions
encountering a whole box of human confections

intellections…and other mental infections.
I dance my ass off: kinesthetic inflections.
We’re all reflections of the Universe’s corrections,
our directions in concert, aligned, perfection

CHORUS
Friends, mentors, allies, we comprise
the microcosms of how our society will rise
we’re all yeast in the bread, variety, more kinds
stronger together than alone: oops, pow surprise!

My host, a guide of the golden sort, the most
erudite of my professional cohort
a luminary in my legal seminary
we’re canaries singing as the sun joins the fairies

a mentor for a decade acquaintance maintenance
and then, in a single weekend, changing it.
Late night life chats on the porch, crack a joke,
light a torch, have a smoke, tell a story ’bout folks:

heroes whom he knows, history I be told.
The word be spoken to my wide open lobes
wisdom insight guidance and experience
and now friendship across generation: delirious

CHORUS

For the first time in ages I lose my breathe
every time she looks in my direction. It’s a left
uppercut to the chin. I’m windmilling and then
she’s there…like a wave, lifting up my fins

Her energy a wind, a tornado, a tsunami.
She makes my insides feel tied, like origami.
I’m salami…on toast and cheese
any chance to be devoured by her, I’d say please

Constant transcendental conversation
about transformation and inspiration
elevation meditation versus hastin’
If I were a college, I’d want her accreditation

She’s amazin’ — straight up fell outta the sky.
I don’t understand how we share so much or why
we’ve never met before. I’m off my feet, on the floor.
I want more…but we’re walking through separate doors.

CHORUS