subterranean poets

International Open Mic #63

2006-10-20T18:46:00.000+08:00

Listen to the latest iteration of the International Open Mic featuring spoken word in Chinese, English, French, Italian, Korean and Spanish by some of Beijing's finest subterraneans. If you missed this one, you missed one of the best shows in a while. This week's show also featured excerpts from The Johnny Cash Reader and The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco.

Poemwork for next week: something scary. As this will be the last show before Halloween, try to find a scary story or something scary to share with us! See you next week. Boo!

International Open Mic #62

2006-10-17T20:15:00.000+08:00

The International Open Mic rambles on. A better turnout this week, but we do it with or without you. Take a listen to this week's show if you missed it, which features poetry by Amiri Baraka and Gerard Manley Hopkins, a few word duets, and work read in Chinese, English and Italian.

Beijing City International School & Subterranean Poets

2006-10-16T20:21:00.000+08:00

Last Friday evening, a handful of the Subterraneans attended the opening of an exhibition at the Beijing City International School (BCIS). Annie Conn was showing a couple of her installations with a photographer/teacher from the school, Richard Todd, and she had asked us to do something to commemorate the event.

Unfortunately, we arrived late, the opening kicked off at 6PM, and getting across town quickly on Friday evening during rush-hour is quite difficult. So, just shy of 8PM, we performed to a nearly empty exhibit hall. It was a little surreal in the cavernous hall, our voices reverberating and echoing madly, the few stragglers on one side of the room and the photographs on easels along the other side of the room, as if they were watching the performance, too. A good time was had by all.

We are subterranean because we do things like this. We perform, even when the conditions are not ideal. We just want people to see performance and poetry, and we want to simply strive to share it with people, which is more important. Stay tuned for information about upcoming shows and events.

International Open Mic

2006-10-05T10:41:00.000+08:00

All's well in Beijing! A smallish attendance last night which probably has something to do with the National Week Holiday. Nonetheless, seven people read and had a good time. Take a listen to this week's show, which features work in Chinese, English, Italian and Japanese.

International Open Mic

2006-09-29T12:07:00.000+08:00

Finally, getting around to adding some new content here after a long summer holiday. Planning to add Chinese content soon, as well, but only after we finish relocating. Then things should really pick up around here.

Take a listen to this week's show, which features work in work and performances in Chinese, English and Italian.

Poemwork for next week: FURNITURE. Write or locate something about FURNITURE and either bring it to the open mic on Wednesday evening at The Bookworm or send it to us!

Subterranean Poets Funk the Stone Boat

2006-09-16T11:32:00.000+08:00

Listen to Subterranean Poets Bob Marcacci, Jack Raif, Benjamin Sobanja & Zhou Yu, with special musical guests, funk the house down at the Stone Boat. Can you dig it?

2006-07-11T18:02:00.000+08:00

Listen to last week's International Open Mic. We'll be in action all summer, so get over to The Bookworm and share something with us!

The theme for last week's group poem was: TRASH.

My name is red
Trash.
Mao Ze Dong a great poet!
I like the poem
The time of Chih Yuan
Caun. It is wonderful!
It's funny how something that
is so easily crushed under my
boot can make me scream so
loud. Damn I hate roaches.
Take Trash to other
planet. and use this Trash to
make (build) the Great Wall again.
That's would be awesome!!!
There are so much trash
produced by human being
on the earth every day!
The irony of my life is what
I trashed in the past turned
out to be most
valuable, and it takes time to
Know
Click right mouse button,
you got two options;
*Empty Trash
and restore
I couldn't get the
wedding ring off, so
I forced my hand down
the drain into food disposer
and flicked the switch.
gobble gobble
put it in me
in my can
oh, yeah
trash this piece
macaroni and cheese,
weiners, white trash
food... Zhou didn't
want to eat it.
Take Laji go to another Xin qiu.
will have sheng wu dan sheng.
zhe ge xinqiu jiang bu zaj
ji mo.
An old woman scrabbling in park
bins
It's national day October 1st
And all the world's on holiday
It seems, but her.
For millions of years, trash
is floating in the
vast and empty outer space
and grows to become
the Earth.
I like today.
I'm very happy to see everyone.
Sometimes what we
throw as trash is really
trash. But, sometimes,
it is really our
treasure.

2006-07-10T18:07:00.000+08:00

Listen to Subterraneans Benjamin, Bai Wei, Bob & Zhou perform at the Beijing World Art Museum! We're always looking for more people to join us so talk to us if you're interested in participating...

2006-07-03T18:16:00.000+08:00

A nice show, once again, last week, although the crowd seems to have thinned a bit as most people seem to be making their Summer escapes now. Unfortunately, we forgot to record everything or lost it this week so you'll have to do without your audio fix. Our apologies to those of you who didn't know we were recording our shows and posting them here.

If you didn't make it, you missed some fine performaces featuring work in Chinese, English, Italian & Japanese. Our group poem was preserved, luckily, and has been a regular feature for the past few months. Our theme last week was MOTHER:

I am so sorry I lie so
much
Mom, I don't know why
I only include you vaguely in my life.
You deserve better.
Mother is my sun
Mother is my whole world.
'Love and hate
Joy and pain
Can't live with her
Or without. Umbilical --
ever-lasting ties --
MAMMA SON TANTO FELICE... MAMMA
MORMORA LA BAMBINA... OH MAMMA
GUARDA COME MI DIVERTO... MAMMA MIA!
... MAMMA LI TURCHI! ... MAMMA
CORAGGIO...
The only kind women that men
love forever.
A good poem that is moving to me.
And I feel moveing tonight.
I went to Zhou's house
and we had lunch
with his mother
in the yellow kitchen
everyone need to learn to feel.
grateful. know to be loved. give.
by heart
I left you
but you left too
Enough kids
Not Enough Mothers
I love u mom!
My mother punched your mother
right-in-the-nose.
What-color-was-the-blood?
GREEN
G-R-E-E-N spells green and
you are not IT!
Mother reminds romance?
Mother reminds me
conflicts. -- Motherland --
Land of mothers. Do you still like it?

Join us next Wednesday or send us your poemwork if you can't make it in person! Work in any language is encouraged. This week's theme: TRASH.

And one more thing for y'all. Zhou Yu and Bob Marcacci read a poem at Icehouse last Friday night, a version of the poem they performed at Rain Bar a few weeks ago, and you can listen to it by clicking the little pod link here. It's a little silly, but we're sure you'll enjoy it. Don't be shy!

2006-06-26T18:31:00.000+08:00

Another wonderful show at The Bookworm last week. Subterraneans at the International Open Mic shared many poems in Chinese, English and Italian. Click the POD link on your left and take a listen!

As has been a regular feature for the past few months, PoemWork was in full effect. Our theme last week was EYES:

"These eyes of black
were given by the night,
yet still I use them
to seek out the light" - Gu Cheng
Chinese saying: Ging ren yan li chu
xi shi.
The best beauty comes from
the EYES of a lover.
Two is better than
one, one is better
than nothing.
But three doesn't
mean better.
Look through the eyes. you'll find
the dark milky road galaxy
The third eye knows
when you act so cold
that you're longing...
desperate for someone to
hold.
Through how many eyes, wild and
tender, sharp and bright...
Through how many eyes have I
taken in your quiet varieties?
Eye spy with my
little I....
someone new to the
bookworm
give me your eyes
if you can
give me anything
Te amo rodovia
mas con nuis ojos
corrados. Con los
labios en los mios.
Tu crespo en mis
abragos de biler.
Por la manana
el suenos desparoo.
Eyes like lies live on
dices.
Beautiful wise eyes
can easily belong to
a total asshole.
"BEWARE"
Eyes, the windows to our souls.
crows
have no
eyes
EYES - endless fountains
of feelings who only
you know and others
think they see
IF: EYES ARE NIPPLES
THEN GUESS:
What is mouth?
YEAH, BINGO
She was sitting on the couch
face puffy and swollen with
sadness! Eyes tired from
first of many tears. "What's
wrong?" I asked, Your
mother's moving
out.
I wish I could have
seen my own eyes after these words
An eye for an eye
The ancient law
Look me in the eye
And break the law
Why do we have only 2 eyes?
Your eyes are nothing
like the sun...
Shakespeare
Your eyes are
deep pools of blue
- Author forgotten by
me.

Join us next Wednesday or send us your poemwork if you can't make it in person! Work in any language is encouraged. This week's theme: MOTHER.

2006-06-25T18:36:00.000+08:00

The Subterraneans, operating under the name Limelight Subterraneans, got in the mix again on Saturday night, performing at the Rain Bar with the Beijing Actor's Workshop. Things were a little late getting started due to the sudden thunderstorm, technical difficulties and some bad luck, but once everything got rolling a good time was had by all.

The performance finally kicked off with a few impromptu poems while everyone was getting situated and then got under way with an Actor's Workshop activity called freeze, in which people from the audience replaced people who were performing a scene. It was quite funny watching the scenes evolve and change. The night continued with a number of other poets and musicians doing their things. A screening of the spectacular Broken Not Broken, a joint performance by the Beijing Actor's Workshop and the Subterraneans for the DIAF, was also played. Click on the POD link to take a listen to some of the funk hippies. Are you a funk sushi enough?

You can view additional photos from the evening, as well as photos from previous events, by clicking over to the Subterranean Photos page. Are you in the picture?

2006-06-19T18:41:00.000+08:00

A smallish show this last week in terms of crowd size, although it seemed to last just as long. Subterraneans at the International Open Mic shared work in Chinese, English, Italian and Swedish. Click the POD link on your left and take a listen!

As has been a regular feature for the past few months, PoemWork was in full effect. Our theme last week was NATIONAL, NATIONALITY & NATIONALISM:

Different faces
from different nations.
The most important
thing is --
we are here,
sharing our
soul
experience.
I eat pork
I'm muslim
sorry
FOR WHAT
different Nationalities
makes us more strange to
each other, and our difference
attract us more to make
friends with each other
Nationality is a
thing too big.
You are my world!
Radio DeeJay
One Nation
One Station
To Nationality
I prefer the word
"Word-ality"
Since I am
A citizen of the
world
I exist
borders don't
Having grown up as an
international (cosmopolitan)
person, makes it really hard
to find a satisfying spouse.
Snow, pipes and
Steam, another world
Patriotism is the last
refuge of the scoundrel.
I am a frog
When can I buy cheaper
Marlboro cigarettes
in China?
my flag
hold onto
this rag
until I die

Join us next Wednesday or send us your poemwork if you can't make it in person! Work in any language is encouraged. This week's theme: EYES.

2006-06-09T11:33:00.000+08:00

At this week's International Open Mic attendants shared work in English, French and Thai. This is also a special week for us because, for the first time, you can listen to us by clicking on the POD link at the beginning of this post. Let us know what you think!

As per usual, the audience composed a group poem based on last week's poemwork theme: FAITH. Coincidentally, some folks misunderstood the theme and wrote about FACE, which is perfectly acceptable:

When all is
darkness
Blacker than black
Hutong coal-cake black
turn to the MAN
the MAN!
George Michael
"Faith," I really
wish it helps.
Where is your faith?
Where will you closet your
belief?
Is there a vacuum in your
soul? Is there a black hole
FAITH:
Can anyone tell me
what faith is?
friend
anger
idea
tears
hands
Face under faces,
I'd like to see.
To be faithful , or not
to be -- that is the
question.
Peace
Just Have Faith.
Forget to
face!
I love to see
your faces --
Oh, on Wednesday!
"Jesus is magic"
Faith, you
need it.
religion is the abuse
of spirituality
Zhou, Angela, SETH,
Marianna, Patrick, Annie,
Helen, Yvonne, Jack, Dora,
Elise, Salomae, Ming, Pete,
SUNSHINE
Faith runs
backwards
FUCK GOD!
God forgive me, because
you become my faith,
so I hate you, definately
I love you also.
Germany

Join us next Wednesday or send us your poemwork if you can't make it in person! Work in any language is encouraged. This week's theme: NATIONAL, NATIONALITY & NATIONALISM.

2006-06-08T18:50:00.000+08:00

If you missed Broken Not Broken, the combined performance to promote Homonumos at Timezone 8 by Subterranean writers and the Beijing Actor's Workshop, check out a video posted by Lois. You need Quicktime 7 to view the file. This is not the only video out there, but we'll post more as they materialize.

2006-06-02T11:19:00.000+08:00

A subterranean who has since moved to Canada, Josh Hinck, forwards a poem based on last week's ENVIRONMENT poemwork:

Rejecting all conceptions past and preconceived
The trees stand taller then I remember they could
Smaller are the stands of wood
The city lights exorcised
Tremulous at best
Keep me, my friends abreast
Of the comings on and goings through
Old and New
The stars seem brighter, more numerous than less
Caress the one you love
After doing nothing to impress
And the non whir of a sleepy town
Gives way to the blur of new possibilities
The places shift
Fast, is all
Striking out untethered steps
Discovery drops the notions of what will come
My trepidation is numb
Whether these surroundings will one day become oppressive to me,
That is to be found in the way I live my life
For everywhere is similar in the regards of mindset
If we try to take and keep the worthless things
They`re exactly what we get
Not ease, I wish first and for
But the best from life we make occur
By an open-mindedness to our environs
Where we shed our fears and live

2006-05-25T17:39:00.000+08:00

At this week's International Open Mic, attendants shared work in Chinese, English, and Italian. The audience also participated in another group poem based on the previous week's poemwork. Write something about ALCOHOL. Here is the result:

zai lai yi bei
The shortcut to
SEX!
I once read about a
vodka drinking contest
in a town in Russia.
8 people died.
That numbness that inability to
drag myself out of bed. Is it
worth it? The pain, the waste,
all following a night on the tiles.
Alcohol we will all drink, never
stop. A lack of control. If only I was a
Chinese woman
What would happen
if the baijiu queen
actually started
getting drunk? CHAOS.
Booze is Good!
in Moderation.
It can lead you to Heaven
or hell -- depends on how
much you drink:
I don't care,
Shut up and kiss
me.
It's the drink talking
No, you stupid bastard
It's me. Shut up & listen!
feel High!
Shaken or stirred, clean or on the
rockes. Doesn't matter -- just let it go down
smoothly
drink, think, don't
stink, wink, won't
blink, drunk, stunk
Oh!!!!
Shit!!!
I didn't know
he was SO
ugly! aww!
I'm the Baijiu queen
Weaving through lands -- from high to low;
east to west -- you bring good news, joy,
drown sorrows and conquer,
so what do you see? What do you
hear? What do you know??
The red wine ring
ALCOHOL... my friend CIVI
says:
DON'T DRINK WATER
IT WILL MAKE YOU RUSTY INSIDE!
Baijiu, Tabasco, Sprite,
drink and get hight,
don't throw up, be a man!
Beginning years of alcoholism:
Crunkerson's Disease
Summer night. watershed
first time you are shy.
Breathing the sky, it's blue
but getting black
make a wish. close your eyes.
The best alcohol is accompanied
by a worm

PoemWork for next week: ENVIRONMENT. Send or bring something written by you or another person to share.

2006-05-23T17:34:00.000+08:00

Lots of activity this month. Marking the final weekend of the DIAF, we took our act to the streets again on Sunday afternoon in Beijing's 798 District for a performance with folks from Homonumos Magazine and the Beijing Actor's Workshop. We began at 3:30PM in the street in front of Hart Center, drawing a large crowd of passers by, but after about 15 minutes, were asked to move out of the street. Apparently you need a permit to perform in the street in the art district. No one got arrested!

Featuring work in English, French, Spanish, Italian and Chinese, performers included: an unknown flute player, Christine Bellerose, Virginie Mangin, Bob Marcacci, Matt, Jack Raif, Allesandro Rolandi, Lisa Steckler, Three Oranges, Bai Wei & Zhou Yu. We continued performing in the grassy area outside Hart until just before 4:30PM and then moved everything inside to continue the performance. Many of the onlookers dispersed, but there was still a small audience inside for the rest of the performance. There are a few other pictures of the afternonon on the photo site, if you want to take a look. All things considered, a grand time

2006-05-18T17:27:00.000+08:00

We were surprised to learn that The International Open Mic was featured in the June issue of Cosmopolitan Magazine, our new favorite! Apparently, aside from the kind words in the article which a number of people helped to translate for us, our weekly gathering is a great place to hang and meet people. Check out a copy at your local Beijing newsstand.

At last night's International Open Mic, the audience participated in another group poem based on the previous week's poemwork. Write something about FOOD. We imposed this restriction on the audience when they were composing their lines and this is the result:

Da food fools my folks with
a fuckin' fork.
phew...
Persons who enjoy food
enjoy what life offers us
the best.
Chocolate!
Every women loves you,
and hates you.
You just like her lover!
Cooking food is cook the life
Sometimes spicy
Sometimes light
Sometimes sweet
Sometimes bitter
Cook your food. Create ur life
Digestion
Thirsty
Delicious foods always make
me watering, and delicious
poems make me excital.
Roast Duck!
"you like peanut-butter oreos
too?" she said with a smile.
Hey!
I loved peanut butter
and butter!
eat an apple
my fruit
fruit me crispy
apple jack
Chocolate--
romance,
love,
imagination,
passion,
joy
--all the nice
things related, but
not fat.
Dirt
Rice
Mutton
Tiger balls
Enemy hearts
Imperial bird nests
Cross the bridge
Noodles
Handful of rice
Cabbage
Leaves off trees
Beef
Vichycoise
Peanut butter
I want the chef wife
feed me
meat and ice cream
The best food is eaten
in the nude at Zhou Yu's
house every afternoon
from 3:30 - 5:00 and
Saturday at noon.
che cosa mangiamo?
sole, aria, acqua
e terra
Has anyone tried eating a
bookworm?
vegetable salad
with good friend
to share
Eat my bitterness for letting a
friend leave,
taste my salty tears,
my mint breath,
kiss the sky,
how I hate to say Good Bye
Chomp, Chomp, Chomp...
Delicious & refreshing...
spicy you--
numb my tongue
water my eyes
sweat my glands
god damn,
I miss you burrito
rice
Yummy, jummy,
sweet tasting, tantalizing
biting, hot sweaty
Sichuan style that
brings on beads of
sweat. Or cold
tongue chilling
Ben & Jerry's that
cools you down.
Bring on the Tsingdao

PoemWork for next week: ALCOHOL.

2006-05-16T17:23:00.000+08:00

At last week's International Open Mic, the audience participated in another group poem based on the previous week's poemwork.Write a poem about TIME. We imposed this restriction on the audience when they were composing their lines and this is the result:

It's time to go to bet...
I just wanna stay up.
I like to sleep best...
When it's time to get up!
clock on my
color - blue kitchen
table
tick, tack,
tick, tack.
time flies whether you're
having fun or not
or does it?
and why do you make me
fight for yours?
time like wind
time like water
time around us
time will leave us or we'll
for worry time
DEATH
Once upon time ago,
there is a girl called...
Oh man, she is cool
time, tick tock, mouses
running around, down down
to the bowels of the end.
They say it stops for no man
I've been lost for three
years. who can tell me
the way home? for me, the
time just stops with its
flying feet.
time, time, time keeps
ticking into the future
Time is omnivore.
one eye reviled
sputtered sparks into inky skin
and one sly velvet cape of night
draws a veil of ash over
all that came before
Time is a sad bitch
that I can never
pick up.
Temporal Instance Makes
Envious Zhou open his
doors to the yellow canary
wait for her to
come here
wait for more
this time
i wait here
Time
It's the first time
I want to hold the time
Or to carry time back
to ten or twenty years
ago
Where I could meet you,
know you, conquer you
and be conqured by
you.
sixty seconds a minute
sixty minutes an hour
24 hours a day
365 days a year
NO ROOM
NO PAPER
NO PEN
NO DAMN TIME
AND NO INCLINATION
Life is made of time
Time has no starting, no
ending point
we are rich of time
when we are young
we are poor of time
when we are old.
What is the time?
Time is your life.
If you know what time it is.
Mmm... Congratulations!
You are alive!!
Time is the thing
for us
to LOSE!
Now is all you have. Heaven. Hell.
It runs away. Use it well.
It was a second but
it seemed an eternity
when the car hit the child.
time never come back,
each second is unique
time never come back
enjoy every second, sweet or not
time means time whatever that means.
time in Danish means an hour - just so
you know.
NUMBERS CONSUMING
time is
everlasting in
Xinjiang...
I wait for the
sand to filter
through the windows
the wind to blow
the pollution out of
the desert...
And I know all I have
is time...
even if i die...
All I have is time...
In Xinjiang...
I'll become a
mummy... A
dried corpse...
with no concept
of time.

2006-05-09T17:12:00.000+08:00

Broken Not Broken, the combined performance by your favorite Subterraneans and the Beijing Actor's Workshop to celebrate both the release of Homonumos and the DIAF, was a smashing success on Sunday May 7th at Timezone 8 in Dashanzi. If you didn't make it, you missed one of the best shows in town. Some thought there were more than 100 people in attendance. Check out many more fantastic pictures here. It also seems as if we found our way into the Chinese media. Stay tuned for video of the event!

None of this could have happened without the generous support and participation of all of these fine people: Alain, Angela, Ben, Benjamin, Bob, Cri Cri, Jorge, Josh, Laurianne, Lois, Ming, Patrick, Phil, Robert, Salome, Seth, Socaina, Timezone 8 Staff, Tom, Vinnie, Wendy, Xiao Hong & Zhou. Accept our apologies if we left out any of the people who helped out at the last minute. Finally, it would not have been a show at all without the excellent people who can out to watch and support us. Thanks!

2006-05-05T17:08:00.000+08:00

At last week's International Open Mic, the audience participated in another group poem based on the previous week's poemwork.Write a poem using colors. We imposed this restriction on the audience when they were composing their lines and this is the result:

"Divide and Rule."
We work for ourselves so far
into one another
that there is no
quitting here.
I work out of Zhou's
apartment selling stolen
goods
I feel like my work
is the cork to my
inner me...
pressing me down
and down and
not letting me
sparkle and
bubble out
of this fragile
container called
me...
Tic tac tic tac
8 hours to go
sardonically
satisfying
workopolis
slopologis
Long live ardent Labors
Long Live Labour Day
Holidays!
Messy and painful,
that's life and that's the
only way that I feel I
am living a life.
sacrifice
opportunity
It seems that you
have catch the nature
meanings of living and
you have learn a lot from
life. Thank you.
Go begging rather
than work begrudgingly
We buzz around our office,
moving paper from out tray
to filing cabinet, we are
simply bees fussing over
hexagons.
work sucks!
everyminute angry
angrier
who do i work for?!
who can escape
a dark sun
What else makes
us riot when we
have none?
What else makes us
bitch when we have
too much?
What else makes us
feel pride?
What else do we try
to shirk?
W-O-R-K in
Cincinnati
Next week's poemwork: write a poem about time.

2006-05-03T16:57:00.000+08:00

These Subterranean Poets performed a new untitled poem yesterday afternoon in Beijing's 798 District outside the BTAP Gallery. We were part of a longer performance, which included a group of people dressed in red and wearing Beijing opera masks, and another entertainer who was calling himself Frog King, who directed a kind of noise performance, handing out tin bowls and lids and wooden sticks to the audience as instruments.

The first group performed much longer than we had anticipated, and we sat around for a few hours before finally getting our chance to perform at about 4PM. A sizeable amount of people had turned up to watch the goings on. Afterwards, I thought everything went well. It was relatively quiet while we were reading, and we stood atop this nice grey brick dais in the center of a shady courtyard. If you want to listen to a recording of our performance, click here.

2006-05-02T16:55:00.000+08:00

At last week's International Open Mic, the audience participated in another group poem based on the previous week's poemwork. Write a poem using colors. We imposed this restriction on the audience when they were composing their lines and this is the result:

greyness
The earth is green
The sea is blue
The ground is black
The river is yellow
The sky is golden bright
Your soul is white
Your face is red.
kaleidescope walls
Zhou's yellow juicy fruit
Kiss me with your seet lips. I'm ready!
He was actually one of those
who worked for Bluebird Inc.
The rich pint blossoms
shone brightly brightly
Mysterious purple cloud flowing
in my dream.
red Wine.
red lips
red faces
black and tan
Red is dangerous
Red means stop! Attention!
But I like tomatoes! Warning!
Rainbow children
Bringers of the new Dawn
red and black--red walls with black
mic; red lips with black kiss;
red rose with black shadows;
red heart with black mood.
yellow gumdrop
we all like colors
Red and green are my colors
Red represents fire
Green means trees
Stick with red and green
I'll be happy forever--
said by my fortune teller
My deep in sorrow eyes
flicker around in life created colors
Clear all mind
embrace the color that
most offends thee
We...
Humans... we have rods & cones
yet so many of us are color blind.
color blinds us

2006-04-26T16:47:00.000+08:00

POEMwork - Write a poem about work; your job, you lack of one, your philosophy about work, whatever. Send your poems to the Subterranean Poets.

2006-04-20T16:49:00.000+08:00

Composed at last night's International Open Mic at The Bookworm by members of the audience. We had no insturctions besides just writing something on a slip of paper and putting it into a box. At the end of the evening, we read all of the slips of paper at random. The results of which went something like this:

Last night, he refused my love.
is a man to know
that all ladies in bars
15 years ago
culminated
in childish fashion
Raise my head,
The day is bright
Lower my head
Comes the night.
So I drink milk in morn
and wait for the light.
Oblivious
Interested is interesting.
Literature is the essence of life;
philosophy is life etherealized,
poetry is life distilled
fiction is life crystallized and
drama is life exploded.
Poetry is higher than history.
- C Hamilton
pay attention to poetry
- no time to write on small paper!
no exit street
as a dream
bloody nerves
wretching
read it as you like
somewhere
alleviate what has been for
what will come
The sky got darker and
darker. Armageddon approached.
Never before did it
look so black. So dark
avuncular
Give earth a break, stop smoking please!
Tsing Tao
You must invoke the
frostbitten incantations
of the madonna.
You must chop the clever
language and
love the convictions of
your soul.
Happiness is an
apartment in Wangfujing.
Hold on to myriad truth
crush our naked regrets
Ting Bu Dong
one time 200
many times 400
I have an apartment in Wangfujing.
yes, yes, yes and
2 kuai extra
Down, down, down
down with beer
for crafty picks know whom to stick
My purpose was unknown to me. "You're an
empty canvas," they said. Caught up in the
middle of my own faithlessness, it
suddenly dawned on me: it is not the
landscape that changes.
It is I
From the first time I saw you on
ACiD, I knew we were meant to
live a lascivious, B-Grade life
together.
Drops of consciousness
I SCREAMED, the rats
roused and SCREAMED
with me.
REALITY OF CHOICE.
Rubber baby buggy bumpers in
My beautiful balloon
I have nothing to say to
You who do not listen.

2006-04-19T16:52:00.000+08:00

POEMwork - Write a poem about colors or try to focus on colors in some way. Send you poems to the Subterranean Poets!

2006-04-12T16:53:00.000+08:00

POEMwork - Write a poem about the body or about how the body has changed over time. Send your poem to the Subterranean Poets!