open mike night at the coffee shop slash cyber bar(and you with a front-row seat)

sister naomi

was loud and clear.

she blasphemed your yesterdays,

cursed your tomorrows,

laughed at your pathetic, whiny sorrows.

she wanted you to hear

what was relevant for today,

and demanded that you hear what she had to say.

she shouted obscene truths,

confronted all of the lies,

then, dubbed you foolishly wise.

she chastised, demoralized,

then insincerely apologized.

sister naomi was loud and clear.

. . . they extrapolate on love, hate and rage,

as spoken word blasts like a 12-guage,

and with a grateful bow, they exit the stage.

black wonder

was loud and clear.

he called you “dear”.

a red-hot, burning flame who

sashayed, and swayed, and played

upon your fears.

he told you that

his sexual preference was contagious,

and all the while, outrageous

rantings of equality filled the air.

he shrieked and freaked you out,

hoped you knew that it was all about

the sapien having always been homo,

about union for all, rights for all,

about “hetero thinking” about to take a fall.

black wonder was loud and clear.

. . . they extrapolate on love, hate and rage,

as spoken word blasts like a 12-guage,

and with a grateful bow, they exit the stage.

the smoking gunn

were loud and clear.

they echoed off of each other’s

individual vibration,

words flowing in syncopation.

they spoke of conspiracies

both hidden and clear,

about wars on a new frontier.

they spoke solo,

then duo,

then back to a trio,

sneering at the so-called neo.

they hissed their poison at right-wing status quos,

and scoffed at their erstwhile political foes.

the smoking gunn were loud and clear.

. . . they extrapolate on love, hate and rage,

as spoken word blasts like a 12-guage,

and with a grateful bow, they exit the stage.

copyright 2008 blackstarr