Who am I? A creative spirit, a functional fool, a mystic pragmatist, a hard worker. A "nice guy", generous to a fault, and avid reader. Freckled white boy with an easy smile and long curly hair in a ponytail.

The most important person in my life is Felicia, my wife. She is brilliant, beautiful, and shy. She has been a big part of shaping the person I am today, the happiness I enjoy, the future I move toward. I am honored to share time with her.

As for work, I'm a poetry slam emcee, a performance poet, a teacher of yoga and poetry. I've been many other things: cook, options broker, painter, janitor, whatever. Usually, a job was a way to support my love of the arts.

You won't find me talking much about my Yoga practice here. It says in the Hatha Yoga Pradipika that ones practice should be kept secret. Though I am happy to chat about it if one asks, I've learned it's best not to post such personal information all over the internet. Suffice to say it has become a big part of my life, it's wierd and amazing, and I recommend the practice of yoga asana for most anyone.

Most of my 'acheivements' were motivated by a deep love of what I was doing, not ambition or long-term planning. I am convinced you can do most anything if you're willing to work hard enough, but it is worth asking yourself if achieving something beyond natural ease is woth the price you pay.

What I am best known for is the Berkeley Poetry Slam, a project I started because nothing else like it existed: www.berkeleypoetryslam.com It's a lot of fun, popular (from 100-300 attend each week, usually 130 or so), it's been going 7 years, and our poetry slam team (kind of like a speech and debate team) is currently ranked #7 in the world.

I also edit a little newsletter called the NorCal Slam UPDATE, which goes out once a week to 3,800 subscribers. It lists all the poetry slams in NorCal, along with recaps of shows and other fun tibits. You'll find a copy of it here on this site. Let me know if you'd like to subscribe!

Charles Ekabhumi Ellik
Poetry Bio


Charles Ekabhumi Ellik embodies a rare combination of successful published poet, award-winning performer, respected organizer, and popular emcee. He hosts the Berkeley Poetry Slam, which has earned "Best of The East Bay" and many critics' choice awards since its inception in 1999. In addition to The Berkeley Slam, he has hosted myriad other slams and open mics throughout California, attesting to his formidable emcee skills.

After moving to the San Francisco Bay Area in '97, he took over the SF slam and touched off an explosion in the Northern California performance poetry scene, resulting in a First Place tie at the National Slam in '99 between SF and San Jose, with Oakland in third. There are now more than a dozen regular slams in Northern CA.

He has featured across N. America and Britain and has been featured in many interviews, anthologies and journals including High Desert Voices (2005 National Slam Anthology), Berkeley Fiction Review, Pearl, Poetry Super Highway, and Clean Sheets. His greatest sense of accomplishment comes from coaching poets and slam teams to their numerous regional and national titles. His most profound sense of peace comes from studying, teaching, and regular practice of Classical Hatha Yoga.

Honors & Awards:

--2007 “Head-To-Head Haiku” National Champion
--Winner, West Coast Regional Slam/Big Sur: 99, 00, 02, 03, 07 (as Team Coach).
--Winner, Salmon Slam/Pacific NW Regionals: 98, 99, 00, 07 (as Team Coach).
--Winner, Battle Of The Bay: 00, 03, 07 (as Team Coach).
--Winner, NorCal “Win & In” Regionals: 06, 07 (as Team Coach).
--Winner, “Best Of The East Bay” (Best Open Mic) 2007 --Diablo Magazine
--"Tribe 25": one of the 25 most interesting people on Tribe.net 2005
--Winner, "Best of the East Bay" (Best Place To Hear Erotic Haiku) 2003- East Bay Express
--Winner, National Collegiate Poetry Slam 2001 (as Team Coach).
--Winner, National Poetry Slam 99 (as Team Coach).
--Winner, "Best Open Mic" 1996- LA Weekly

Performance Venues include: Masonic Auditorium (SF), Starry Plough (Berkeley), Nuyorican Poets Café (NYC), Bowery Poetry Club (NYC), Green Mill (Chicago), Michigan Theater (Ann Arbor), Paddington Arts (London), Cafe Du Sole (Vancouver), Beyond Baroque Literary Arts Center (Venice Beach), Yerba Buena Center For the Arts (SF), Ego’s (Austin), and numerous bars, coffeehouses, and living rooms across the U.S.

Radio Appearances on KALX, KPFA (Pacifica), KUCI, BBC, Cool As Hell Theater (podcast). TV Appearances on several Public Access channels in CA.

Charles has shared the stage with numerous renowned “page” poets, including: Maya Angelou, Quincy Troupe, Gerald Locklin, Charles Webb, and Brendan Constantine. He has shared the stage with nearly every notable Slam champion and quite a few underground legends, including: Patricia Smith, Mike McGee, Buddy Wakefield, Marc Bamuthi Joseph, Sonya Renee, Anis Mojgani, Staceyann Chin, Beth Lisick, Michelle Tea, Daphne Gottleib, Bucky Sinister, The Suicide Kings, and Marc Smith, to name only a few.

Universities & Colleges that Charles has played:

Boise State University
California Institute Of Integral Studies: San Francisco.
Cal State U Long Beach
Golden West College
Las Positas College
New College (SF)
Orange Coast College
San Bernardino Valley College
San Francisco State
University of California at Berkeley
University of California at Chico
University of California at Los Angeles
University of California at Santa Cruz
University of California at San Diego
University of Oregon in Portland
University of Michigan Ann Arbor (Big Blue)
University of San Francisco

You can reach me at:

voluptuary at hotmail dot com

Yoga Bio

Charles Ekabhumi Ellik is a student of Dharmanidhi Saraswati of the Trika Institute, and a graduate of Yoga Mandala’s Teacher Training Program. After a 9-month internship with David Moreno (Abhimanyu Saraswati), and studies of many other styles of Yoga, he went on to teach Hatha Yoga full-time.
At the behest of his guru, Ekabhumi began teaching children's Yoga in 2005. Today he teaches classical yogic practices in an innovative Youth Yoga program (also with his guru's blessing) that incorporates aspects of martial arts and dance.
An award-winning poet, teacher/coach, and community organizer, he brings to his practice and classes a rich background in creative and physical arts: poetry performance, public speaking, publishing, painting, music, martial arts, and modern dance. He also has extensive experience in outdoor sports such as backpacking, surfing, sailing, snowboarding, skateboarding, and cycling. In Yoga, he found a practice that combines elements of all these activities. Though relatively new at teaching Yoga, he has been coaching live performance and teaching poetry at schools and workshops for over a decade.

Currently, he is employed with Yoga Mandala (Youth Yoga), Life Stretch Yoga (Hatha), and AFPS (Adult Yoga in gyms).

"If a man acts in a mechanical way, reacting to external demands or instruction rather than in ways determined by his own interests and energies and power, we may admire what he does but we despise what he is." -Wilhelm von Humboldt

--Namaste! Traditional Hatha Yoga is my practice and what I teach. Except when it's Youth Yoga, in which case it is a little Hatha Yoga, a lot of silliness, and a dash of self-discipline.

--Let's practice together! Please join me for a public class, or contact me for private lessons!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ADULT HATHA FLOW --Every Monday 7:00-8:30pm at Yoga Mandala Studio.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
----This gentle yoga class is suitable for all levels. Because we are practicing in an evening class, we will focus on a soothing sequence structured around Moon Salutations (Chandra Namaskar). We will calm the mind, deepen awareness of breath, strengthen the body, as well as increase balance and flexibility.
---Yoga Mandala.
www.yogamandalastudio.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
YOUTH YOGA --Every Tuesday, Wednesday, & Thursday 4:15-5:15 pm at Yoga Mandala.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
---A fun, playful introduction to Yogic Practice. Excellent for building Self-Discipline, Self-Esteem, and an overall Healthy Self. For ages 4-9 (but we're not strict about it). Parents are welcome to watch, but PLEASE! Do not interrupt the lesson or correct the kids!
--Our kid's class is evolving into a full-fledged Youth Yoga Program with a detailed curriculum to guide kids through childhood and adolescence and on to a harmonious adult Yogic Lifestyle. We have a fantastic bunch of regulars now, all highly motivated and learning a wide spectrum of Yogic practices, including Asana, Pranayama, Mudra, Bandha, as well as Anatomy, Health, Philosophy, and Service practices.
---Yoga Mandala.
www.yogamandalastudio.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I also teach at private gyms through Alliance Fitness Professionals Services. If you live in a community with a central fitness center and would like yoga classes (paid for by your building association), please contact AFPS at: 877-675-2377

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Berkeley Poetry Slam. --Every Weds.
~~~~
--This is the rowdiest good time you'll ever have listening to poetry. And storytelling, comedy, lyricism, and so much more! We've been going for nearly ten years now, consistently standing-room-only. There's a good reason: it's a great time for only seven bucks!

--STARRY PLOUGH. 3101 Shattuck. 510-841-2082.
(1 block uphill of Ashby BART). EVERY WEDS.
8:30-11pm. Sign-ups: 7:30. All ages before 9pm.
$150 Cash Prizes. $7 door.
Hosts: Charles Ellik & Betsy Roll.
Live Music: 3 Blind Mice.
www.berkeleypoetryslam.com
Contact: voluptuary@hotmail.com

04-01-09
Two mating snails
tossed over the neighbor’s fence.
So much for romance!

03-15-09
Not enough rain
to open my umbrella:
dew-drops on my beard.

There will be no sky
left between the plum's branches
when her leaves unfurl.

03-13-09
Using only my
eyelashes, I eagerly
unwrap a new day.

03-11-09
What asshole fucks with
my hangover at THIS hour?!?
Oh. The sun rising.

03-05-09
Do the oak trees feel
the resonance of their kin
in my guitar’s twang?

03-02-09
the prim maple
glowers at the gaudy plum
and her messy flowers.

02-28-09
The thrilling red rose
is a gardener's reward
for a life of thorns.

02-04-09
Get colder it gets
outside, the more incentive
to cuddle inside!

01-31-09
Across the table
an invisible guest dines
while I say my prayers.

blush
when pollen sticks to my nose:
Over-enthused sniff!

Long silky finish
to a raucous drunken night.
Licking my fingers.

01-01-09
Like a rich uncle,
winter sun comes to visit
after sleeping in.

12-29-08

Why the rent’s so high:
falling asleep in the
warm winter sunshine.

12-28-09
Wooing the Divine
with songs even dogs can't hear
then open my eyes...

12-24-08
My wife’s disaster
in the kitchen translates to
yummy snacks for me!

12-07-09
Composing silence
alone with the universe
combing Kali's hair.

Six years together
you arouse me with a glance
and a certain touch.

11-11-08
Unwelcome house guests
make a mess and spoil the food:
ants and their aphids.

11-02-08
Sat on the toilet
where the Guru took a dump.
The seat was still warm.

10-29-08
They only bloom once:
succulent flower stalk, smashed
by the newspaper.

10-08-08
She lifts her hand
and leaves a ghostly palm print
between the cocktails.

10-08-08
Happy Navaratri! Jaya Ma!

When She is dancing
few can tear their eyes away.
Why would one want two?

It's just when you thought
that she had a broken wing
she leaps to the sky.

10-05-08
Squirrels searching for
misappropriated acorns
break the flower pots.


10-02-08 Written in reply to Stefan's critique of a haiku as being too wordy:

the prim maple
glowers at the gaudy plum
and her rotten fruit.

09-21-08 Poems for Shakthi.
It is the shadows
that make illumination
a destination

All roses are not
red and all women are not
girls thank the goddess!

Some desires are
as easy to fulfill as
opening your mouth!

Rules are for the birds
who fly South every Winter,
not the poets who praise them.

The Goddess wears masks
while dancing through the bodies
we think that we own.

Ecstasy can not
contained in a description
or a memory.

The sun bears a curse:
unable to see shadows
he burns himself up.

Charles is scared, too.
Ekabhumi is fearless
as Sakti is wild!

Who is this "Me", we?
An actor in a movie?
Your body's landlord?

Similar or like?
Are birds are always thirsty?
Do fish yearn to fly?

Popularity
is a form of wealth you earn
by acting like them.

Poets and fools think
their pens are mightier than
Mahakala's sword.

Timelessness is the
only state of being that's
more fleeting than fame.

Who can understand
a poem written with words
no one has spoken?

Is a plum blossom
reflected in a puddle
twice as beautiful?

I shot the sheriff,
Krishna killed the deputy,
Arjuna got jailed.

Fucking the God(dess)
in a cheap run-down motel
is better than sex.

Hay is for horses
poetry is for poets
rules are for the birds.

Siamese fighting fish
attack their own reflection
fearing their beauty.

The naked goddess
does not think herself holy
when ripping off heads.

Why does the lotus
enjoy wallowing in mud?
How does she stay clean?

Too drunk to notice:
My piss forms a puddle and
countless stars twinkle.

The fruit fears falling
because it does not listen
to the seed inside.

Why bother talking
if not to communicate
a need to be heard?

This is the sound I
imagine it makes when it
squeezes through the tube!

Consciousness in form,
an octopus in a jar,
the goddess, laughing.


09-08-08
Wilting with longing
the ferns die inside each time
they think of the rain.

09-04-08
Sunflowers
do not turn their heads
till the sun rises.

07-09-08
Laughing greedily
my hands stained red with their blood
sweet ripe blackberries.

Red, sickle-shaped moon
cuts across the Big Sur sky
forests in ashes.

05-04-08
A lifetime of books
collect dust on the shelves
of our family home.

No car, no money
no way to flee Katrina:
5th Ward stray cat.

04-22-08
Hot water torture:
tea leaves give up their secrets
in just three minutes.

03-16-08
Dog shits in the yard
and the fragrant roses get
back their privacy.

03-15-08
On the new rose bush:
four promising small rose buds
and countless aphids.


03-13-08
After years stealing
roses from other's gardens
finally plant my own.


One must cultivate
a garden of thorn bushes
to enjoy roses.


Even as I plant
a new rose in my garden
its thorns stab my hands.


Stab of pain:
overeager to smell
rose perfume.

03-10-08
Innumerable
noses schoz the MMM of these roses
yet they still smell sweet.

03-09-08
In the fifth storey
fitness center swimming pool
two ducks doing laps.

03-07-08
It's easy to love
a master who teaches you
what you want to know.

03-03-08
Crabgrass & Blackberries
battle for my backyard like a
Japanese monster movie

03-01-08
So silent I hear
my heel striking the sidewalk
through my skeleton.

02-29-08
"THIS SHIT ISN'T REAL!!!"
is a quick way to get kicked
out of the theater.

02-18-08
No force necessary.
Just water the flowers; the bees
can't help themselves.

02-17-09
Cut, and cut again;
pull a weed out by the root
no new weeds to pull.

This pink godzilla
terrorizes the garden
with a giant hoe.

Just as the plum tree
starts her Valentine's dance, the wind
rips her veils away.

All it takes is one
poppy to turn a weed patch
into a garden.

Knarled fist of a rose
tickled by spring’s sun & rain
opens like “hello.”

If a seed takes root
and its flowers bloom, the bees
come uninvited.

Does the sun ever
grow tired of gazing at
this little blue orb?

Men make calendars.
Science makes laws to obey
Spring is never late.

02-16-08
An hour digging.
A few years of nurturing.
A lifetime of fruit.

Camellias would
rather die than turn away
from the burning sun.

Rust on the shovel,
dust thick on the garden shears.
The weeds are mocking.

02-06-08
It is the dull knife
that makes the most painful wounds.
Measure twice, cut once.

Truth is no fixed point
it is a struggle between
fact and perception

Who wants discipline
when there are credit cards and
governments to blame?

Dedicated to
a life of selfless service;
who is left to die?

02-04-08
Where the willow was
fistfuls of fragrant flowers
celebrate the sun.

02-03-08
Awakened before dawn
by her hand on my cock.
Breakfast of Champions!

On my parents' mantle:
faded photos of puppies
rolling in the grass.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!"
Someone wins, someone loses.
My tea tastes the same.

02-02-08
Dreary, rainy day.
Indoors cooking and humming
feeling the sunshine.


01-31-08
Even the homeless
choose not to beg
when it is this cold.

01-07-08
Feeble sunshine.
Pink Camellias scattered.
Hungry hummingbirds.

01-01-08
Eyelids opening
countless gifts unwrapping
New Years morning.

12-30-07
Who owns my name?
The ones who gave it to me?
My friends? Myself?

I may change my name
but who will call me by it?
Must I change myself?

How do I change friends
who know the old me? Can I
die while still alive?

Parents may give names
friends may use them, but Death
allows the naming.

12-27-07
Wrapping paper rips.
Oohs. Ahhs. Laughter. Hugs. Thank Yous.
No one in the bank.

12-23-07
Do the wilting
Sunflowers realize
For what they thirst?

12-22-07
Amongst these boxes
the most subtle gift of all:
scent of a pine tree.

The lowly daisy
has only a bitter root
and heart of gold.

Full moon brings poets
and waves of silver Grunion
to the sandy beach.

Huevos Rancheros!
OJ, tea, French toast and jam.
World on my table.

12-21-07
Cold rainy morning:
A warm kiss on my forehead,
Gone before I wake.

12-17-07
Gazing at the moon
from the deck of a cruise ship,
the warmth of her hand.

12-13-07
Hell is beautiful
when one understands there is
no need to stay there.

In the dark of night
Jasmine feels no jealousy
for the showy rose.

12-08-07
Pixels on a screen:
Do the Crysanthemums die
when I hit "delete?"

12-06-08
Tea as medicine
or tea as ceremony?
What happened to taste?


An ugly teacup
has no effect on the taste
of what it carries.


Should I read a book?
How can one enjoy
tea with no cup?

Crappy organic
tea only tastes good
to my conscience.

12-04-07
From out of the sea,
Rivers run to the mountains
Leap into the sky.

12-03-07
Clouds rushing inland:
No matter how far they roam
the sea waits for them.


11-30-07
I can't be angry;
you need to buy presents too!
Christmas-time mugger.

What a sacrifice!
May you be reborn in me,
Thanksgiving Turkey

11-29-07
Everyone needs to
act STEWPID once in a while.
Hence, college sports bars.

If it don't kill you
just keep taking more until
it makes you feel high.

11-28-07
In a misty field
hunting for a gibbous moon
I caught a cold.

11-23-07
Lovely persimmon
worked hard all year to bear fruit
just to feed the flies.

11-13-07
Twenty years of work
all stored on one cheap flashdrive.
How small I've become!

11-09-07
On the way to Court
sunny blue sky, except the
cloud over my heart.

11-07-07
Wake in the fog,
morning or night?
Smells like breakfast.

11-03-07
Lemon trees blossom,
Halloween and bikinis:
typical Berkeley.



10-27-07
Two blocks off my path
just to visit this garden
and smell the roses.

10-24-07
Which way should I look?
Inferno-tinted sunset
or the Harvest Moon?

10-15-07
Is the Sun jealous
of how deep the daisy's roots
plunge into the Earth?

The rain teaches me
to ride my bicycle slow
and steer with my ears.

10-08-07
When rivers run dry
the ocean does not cry out
for lack of water

Fall won the battle,
big parade blew through town
leaves like confetti.

10-03-07
The mirror-smooth lake:
a cool wind blows across it,
countless Suns shining.

09-26-07
Sitting and chanting.
Wait for something magical;
urgent need to pee.

09-24-07
Stare at a candle
long enough without blinking
two candles appear.

Expect perfection
accept all sincere effort
before class begins.


09-09-07
A blind man asks
a mute woman to describe
how a love song smells.

06-18-07
Haiku written on the grounds of Shinn Historical Park in Fremont, CA.
Evening Sunlight
glowing insects write poems
with their cursive flight

Tourists' heavy steps
cigarettes and cheap perfume
"OH! SSHHHH! He's praying!"

Even a poorly
kept teagarden is better
than a parking lot.

Patient spiders lurk.
Ants search for scraps of food.
busy garden path.

Children throwing grass.
Hummingbird in a fountain.
Wind in the treetops.

Pebbles in a line
March across the garden bridge;
Sergeant wears diapers.

Super burrito:
fuel enough for hours
of meditation.

Leaves rise and shake
like a standing ovation
as a gust blows by.

Must be quite a view:
Northern peak of the farmhouse
always has a bird.

A stream filled with rocks.
A mind filled with thoughts.
Is the water stopped?

No need for alarms.
Just sleep in the grass until
the wetness soaks through.

05-14-07

Dawn Calligraphy:
winshield condensation drips,
the future spelled out.

05-13-07
Isolated Youth
infected by hungry ghosts
Murdered, murdering.

Dawn Calligraphy:
windshield condensation drips,
the future spelled out.

05-03-07
Chattering from High:
King Squirrel allows no one
to play with his nuts.

04-02-07 Transcontinental flight from JFK to OAK

A playground sandbox:
how small are teh mountain gods.
Airbus 320.

White picket fence
between West Coast and the Plains:
The Rocky Mountains.

Great snow-capped ridges
the most desolate deserts
hemmed by empty roads.

Snowy pyramid
peak unseen by human eyes
laid bare by jet fuel.

Viewed from above
cities filled with memories:
dirty childrens' toys.

On a green beast's back
grey blood creeping from a gash:
downtown Modesto.

Angular river;
California Aquaduct:
SoCal's thirsty vein.

Velvet green hillside
sliced open by a freeway
bleeding traffic jams.

Bold abstract painting:
purple green yellow and blue
evaporation ponds.

Sky, mountains, water,
buildings, cars, people, then birds:
descent into detail.

To hell with New York
I'd pay three hundred dollars
just for the window seat!

03-30-07 Elmont, NY

Hiding from the sun
corner of a parking lot
destitute snow bank.

Not just pedestrians:
Squirrels also move faster
in New York City.

Where do I go pee
what ll the bushes and trees
have lost every leaf?

03-26-07
Notice the sky is blue
reach for the white dragon's tail
find another dream.

03-26-07 Inspired by Lorca's "Blood Wedding"

A fish with no scales
cold Earth becomes a knife
to taste astonished flesh.

03-25-07 Berkeley

No need to die:
Cherry blossoms become haiku
and live forever.

03-12-07
Under the oak tree
vows and rings are exchanged
whole world as witness.

02-05-07
Soaked down to my toes
while praying for snow angels.
Just not cold enough.

Came North for snowscapes,
found even more peaceful view:
no headlines of war.

Steps from Puget Sound,
taste sushi from New Zealand
and sip Belgian ale.

01-29-07
Life in the suburbs:
come home when streetlights blink on.
Don't talk to strangers.

01-16-07
"You could make snowballs
from the frost, it was so thick!"
Her tiny face glows.

12-06-06
Tender wet fingers:
The Sky unwraps flower buds
wrapped by the rich Earth.

I'm a skinny man.
Need a warm bed for Winter.
Hence, the wedding ring.

Laughing at my ring?
I love being married while
other poets shiver.

11-28-06
Wiped clean by a storm,
the hard blue winter sky
can make no sunset.

11-22-06
Modern Americans
make ritual sacrifice:
Thanksgiving Day bird.

11-13-06
Tickle down my back:
Jackets can't stop her fingers,
this Fierce Fall rainstorm

11-07-06
Unable to find
Orion, my wife wanders
lost across the park.

10-31-06
Pumpkin guardians
derilict in their duties
become mold farmers.

10-04-06
Fall seems far away
when your favorite baseball team
is in the play offs.

10-02-06
Slain by her lover
Summer becomes cold and grey
while all the trees weep.

Poured onto a page
my haiku waits for the day
you birth me again.

09-27-06
Online Tantra Tribe:
unenlightened know-it-alls
make Something of Nothing.

09-23-06
Downtown San Francisco
endless tourists passing by:
Rock in a stream.

09-19-06
Imprisoned no more,
leapt from the balcony rail:
Suicide cactus.

09-12-06
Stolen from the vine
and hot from the sun, these grapes
taste better than wine.

Sunny summer day.
In the basement rafters:
forgotten red kite.

09-08-06
Sculpted a dream girl
from warm sand at the seashore;
Moon took her away.

Divine paradox:
choose predetermination
and set yourself free.

07-16-06
I was just in Big Sur (a little South of Monterey in California), camping. Here are some haiku I wrote while there:

Batteries run out.
Memorize the view instead
and say "click".

Waves crashing.
A long-dead volcano.
Lone lighthouse.
Empty road.

Wide sandy beach. Offshore winds.
Waves in parallel lines.
Not one surfer.

Mysterious suitor:
sea fog slips his fingers
into her lush canyons.

Redwoods pointing up
up up up toward the stars.
My heart follows.

Holding their fingers
over my warm camp fire
old redwoods, leaning.

06-20-06
No lake smooth enough
to reflect the pure brilliance
of my grateful heart.

Joyous multitudes
muscles of my body flex
hot humid summer.

Under giant waves
boulders roll in the surges
clack like billiard balls.

"NO BIKES IN HERE!"
cute bakery girl saves me
from buying donuts.
06-19-06
Subway station:
the silence of passengers
and howl of steel.

06-12-06
Unable to rain,
the humiliated clouds
spit on passers-bye.

Red squirrel, running.
Busy street with lots of cars.
Patient crows, waiting.

06-08-06
Only in my mind
does water from a mirage
quench imagined thirst.

06-07-06
How many statues
lie in a block of marble?
All of them. And none.

06-01-06
Poems inspired by Soen Nakagawa:

Artificial pain:
zealous monk fasting under
a tree ripe with fruit.

Vow of indulgence:
rest, sunbathe, and eat cookies.
Whose body is this?

Perfume and flowers:
this cactus, quick to forgive
two years of neglect.

What choice is there?
A lifetime of surprises
like it or not!

Recalling the night
melting glacier in moonlight
I shiver again.

God created me
so that I might re-create him
each time I say "OM"

05-29-06
Memorial Day.
Even the most remote hike:
childrens' laughter.

05-24-06
Like waves on the beach
the lives of poets, ending
and the ocean, unchanged.

05-21-06
the squirrels running
acround the roof of my house
imagine monsters...

05-14-06
More flowers inside
than outside in the garden.
Busy, busy knife.


05-09-06
Sunshine on my feet.
Breakfast and news before me.
Simple luxuries.

05-05-06
Chidren build castles
from crushed bones of mountains
while the tide rises.


05-01-06
Sunrise births Sunset
but who gave birth to the sun?
o-o-o-o-o-m

04-28-06
It is not enough
to see, smell, and touch the fruit.
One must consume it.

04-25-06
soft earth is waiting
to soak up every teardrop
and make them flowers.

04-24-06
Claret in my glass
poetry on my deft tongue
your breath in my ear.

04-20-06
silence in the wind.
heaviness in the mountains.
wiggle in my toes.

04-16-06
At the gas station
i make a war donation
and take a joy ride.

Vacations are more
work than staying home seeing
old things in new ways.

04-15-06
Lit from the same flame
church full of tiny candles
quickly becomes hot.

04-13-06
A lover long missed:
sunshine steals through a window
and gives me a kiss.

04-12-06
million years from now
buried bodies of this war
will become more oil.

04-11-06
How lovely, this pain:
full grown tree pruned down
into a bonsai.

what if an acorn
dreamed of being a mountain
and became the moon?

how green are the hills
after weeks and weeks of rain
how pale is my skin

How many trees died
to fill this shelf with dusty
books of poetry?

A sky so open
seeds felt compelled to fill it
with flowers and trees.

04-04-06
messaging my lust:
each day I squeeze the mango
wishing it were ripe.

04-03-06
soft earth is waiting
to soak up every teardrop
and make them flowers.

03-24-06
Politics, war, plague
may evoke no emotion
but this one dead bird...

03-18-06
Hiacynth will bloom
sooner in the hot sunshine
longer in the shade.

Lucky for roses
that camillias don't smell
as good as they look.

Born of the same tree
yet one apple tastes sweeter
than any other.

03-17-06
Music is neither
guitar nor guitarist
it is divine play.

03-16-06
Restless as a moth
mind flutters from one candle
to another.

A river's nature
is to be restless until
entering the sea.

03-12-06
Each day I think the ants:
encouraging my roomates
to keep the kitchen clean.

Schoolyard sandbox game:
by crushing his own castle
boy makes history

"Can we wreck it now?"
pack of kids watch me finish
flawless sand castle.

03-11-06
The moon is disturbed
all Heaven's stars quake, when wind
blows across the lake.

Middle of the street
black satin dinner jacket
crow dines on road kill.

03-10-06
Upon waking up
I forgot what was and found
all that might have been.

03-09-06
bruises her fingers
reaching into the mirror
to give mom a hug.

03-07-06
Inside every rock
the silent buddha waiting
for a stone carver.

03-05-06
In an empty room
one sits in contemplation:
un-struck drum resounds.


03-01-05
whitehouse cheerleaders
playing naked in war room:
prisoner and guard.


02-28-06
One yard, manicured;
one choked with bright blooming weeds.
Guess where the bees go?


02-27-06
Snow?!? In Berkeley?
Our version of bad weather:
drifts of plum blossoms.


02-15-06
Sidewalks of people
pass heaven-scented flowers
born here every day.


02-09-06
Difficult to rush
through fragrant neighborhoods
filled with hyacinth.


01-30-06
always a delight
fellow poet's compliments
funny epitaphs

Cocoon of comfort
withdraw myself from her arms
morning butterfly.

I'm not ready yet!
no amount of pleading helps
wife set the alarm.


01-29-06
Morning butterfly
alights on many flowers
drunk on the choices.


01-25-06
Woken from a nap
by tapping on the window:
passing cloud says, "hi".


01-23-06
Step off a jet plane
sunshine, sea breeze, green hills;
grateful to be home.


01-18-06
Surprise cloudburst hits:
less rain under roadside tree
but bigger splashes.


01-16-06
Heater on the fritz
Means clammy basement repairs.
She kicks me from bed.


01-08-06
gift of a lover
needs no attention for weeks
so many sharp thorns


01-05-06
photo and message;
compliments from a strager.
unanswered questions.

12-30-06
Staring at the rain
drowning in its gray beauty
makes me a turkey?


12-03-05
Countless little fists:
Roiling storm clouds unleash
a week of disasters.


11-29-05
unable to face
their queen empty-handed,
ants search kitchen.


11-28-05
I just feels colder
no matter the temperature
in an empty house.

~~~~~~~~
Texas Haiku November 05

11-04-05
Sitting in stillness
while the world moves around me
Now it is Texas.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pain Suite (written in Corpus Christi 11-06-05)

Pain is a flower
most folks pull from their garden
thinking it common

How precious and rare
to be born in a human body
even angels envy

The easiest path
is seldom the most scenic
time to make a choice

On the longest road
suffering and ecstasy
walk side-by-side, friends.

Some say that Yoga
is soft. Easy. For wimps. Yes.
No. It is a mirror.

Some pain is torture.
Some, pleasure. The difference?
How I ask for it.

In a secret place
the greatest master of all
can hear no applause.


~~~~~~~~~~
Corpus Christi Suite 11-07-05

Corpus Christi's HOT!
What fool would build this city
before conditioning?

Napping in Texas
woken by car stereo:
"Hotel California".

Sitting by the bay
strange lights glow underwater.
Ghosts? Or jellyfish?

Under the dock: mud
barnacles, crabs, fishing net,
Gatorade bottle.

Regal, arrogant
Great Blue Heron claims pier
chases seagulls off.

Even Blue Herons
pause from their fishing to watch
South Texas sunset.

Fish and fried Okra;
front row seat for the sunset.
Where else would I be?

Turquoise, deep blue, black.
Sunset reflection melted
like fire red candy.

First star. Flock of birds.
New moon. Balmy tropic breeze.
Full belly. Heaven.

Two hours driving.
crusty gas station crapper
...like a gift from god.


~~~~~~~~~~
Austin 11-10-05

Who thought there would be
so much water in Austin?
Town of immigrants.

Casa de Luz
garden with a missing gate.
Listen to bamboo.

Down by the river
joggers seek a rustic view
plugged into i-pods.

Canoe full of tourists
scare the local turtles off.
Gentrification.

Every leaf of every tree
has it's own story
its own tragic Fall.

By the river's edge
where the air is cool and moist
that's where haiku grow.

Sit by the river.
City full of things to do
will just have to wait.

Group of birds, swimming.
Look like ducks, act like ducks, quack
with a Texan twang.

Thousands of joggers.
One delinquent smoking pot.
Ripples on the lake.

Under the talking,
radios, and street traffic
Silence is waiting.

Rowing crew sweats
coach sits in Director's Chair
speaking through bullhorn.

Perfect unison
old folks in a rowing scull
laps around the lake.

Crickets are the nighttime
soundtrack of every state
but California.

Like any other operation
birth hurts more
longer it's put off.

Rockstar sings about
freedom from on top a stage
just a few feet wide.

If you close your eyes
prettiest girl in the room
will reveal herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
HOUSTON 11-11-05

Could be LA or
Phoenix or Dallas, but no.
This time, it's Houston.


Takes the sun longer
to cross that big Texan sky.
...so there's no hurry.

Classic rock station
Country. Tejano and Rap.
Texas radio.

Highrise cloaked in fog
totem of the money god
sends out a search light.

At an Open Mic
staying awake is tougher
than looking interested.

A week in Texas
saw my first armadillo
dead on the highway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
DALLAS 11-13-05

Risk your life to save
five minutes on the freeway
end up on a slab.

Counting the hours
until her loving embrace
will prove I am home.

unholy bargain
cold wind blows at the crossroads
musical genious.

Skid marks on the road
smears of pain on a cement wall
wooden cross, leaning.

Flock of black birds
one creature with many parts
dancing by itself.

Bee tapped in the car:
how many lives were ended
by fear of a sting?

Don't hate the player
hate the... Check that. Don't hate.
Cuz hate IS the game.

Glossy statistics
Glossy faces glossy suits
Dallas daytime news.

Once a butterfly
now a green goo explosion.
I-35 South.

Raindrop on windshield
rolling past parched brown landscape
When will Summer end?
~~~~~~~~~

11-06-05
First sign of Winter:
Thermostat clicks heater on,
it smells of burnt hair.


11-03-05
To a red, red rose
buckets of water are more
lovely than poems.


11-01-05
Fragrant denial:
roses bloom this November
in California.


10-30-05
Pumpkin on the porch
lasts a week in the chill air
and two days indoors.


10-16-05
Turn the light switch off.
From darkness a room appears
thanks to the full moon.


10-08-05
Morning toothbrushing:
every day amazed to find
new face in mirror.


10-05-05
Sun sets in the West
snoflakes rise from the ocean
the wind filled with breath.


10-04-05
A rose with no scent.
Fall pulls leaves from the trees.
...A day without you.


09-14-05
Isn't it enough
for the cat to eat it's mouse?
Must it be tortured?


09-07-05
Where a leaf once was
now this tree has a blue hole:
window to beyond.


08-29-05
Fall's Ambassador:
A hungry ant comes searching
across my keyboard.


08-25-05
Wake, dreaming of sex
Wife's hand wrapped around my cock.
Whoa! Wish fulfillment!


08-19-05 (Gallup, NM)
After three hours
pack of cars on the freeway
are almost neighbors


08-19-05 (lyrics from a C&W tune, near Gallup)
Girl wearing nothing
but a smile and a towel
on highway billboard


08-19-05 (near Gallup)
Oldies rock and roll
playing songs from my childhood.
When did I grow up?


08-19-05 (Old Town ABQ)
Romantic dinner
at an old outdoor cafe.
Wish for forever.


08-19-05 (S of ABQ)
Two lines: red and white
rivers that never run dry
meet in the distance.


08-19-05 (rest-stop S of ABQ)
Cloud of moths flutter
around lone truck stop light pole
...lost sight of the moon.


08-16-05 (Painted Desert)
Cloaked in silver clouds
ghostly moon haunts jagged hills.
The Painted Desert.


08-16-05 (Monument Valley)
Twinkling streetlights
Kayenta in the distance
no match for the stars.


08-15-05 (Monument Valley)
Resting in backseat
dirty clothes for my pillow
million-dollar view


08-15-05 (Monument Valley)
Gift I have always
possessed yet never ejoyed:
a sky full of stars


08-14-05 ...(Grand Canyon North Rim)
Double yellow line.
Stuck behind a huge RV.
Anger Management.


08-08-05
Months of Yoga class
behind my back these hands now
can pray in secret


08-05-05
How far I traveled
to reach a place where I could
enjoy the blue sky.


07-28-05
Glued back together
broken bowl is still empty
but won't leak when filled.


07-25-05
Whole world can be seen
on the surface of a lake
that has no ripples.


07-23-05
What flower takes root
and blooms in utter darkness?
A mind unfolding.


07-20-05
Pretty cut flowers
that bloom while stuck in water
emit no scent.


07-16-05
Even the greatest
samauri is forced to cry
when chopping onions.


07-13-05
Open Garden Gate
The world is my garden.
Close Garden Gate
The garden is my world.


07-07-05
The only view
shown by a dirty window
is of more dirt.


06-29-05
The quiet garden:
home of a thousand battles
and one surrender.


06-22-05
A purple lotus
blooms when she opens her mouth
and whispers my name.


06-18-05
How deep must I swim
to find in the ocean
a place that is not wet?


06-14-05
Scent of burning hair:
it doesn't smell so awful
if you aren't attached.


06-12-05
Should this sprout be pulled?
or allowed to grow until
I know what it is?


06-08-05
When I close my eyes
a light that leaves no shadows
guides me on my path


06-05-05
Flower in my hand
that wilts as I'm walking home
still blooms in my heart.


06-04-05
Snuffing a candle
becomes easy when you have
grown thick calluses.


06-03-05
Though the candle burns
in this bright morning sunlight
I can see no flame.

UPDATE --Youth Speaks’ Finals SAT.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(1)Tidbits. (2)Berkeley WEDS. (3)Monterey WEDS.
(4)Modesto WEDS. (5) Chico THURS.
(6)Santa Cruz THURS. (7)SF SUNDAY.
(8-18)UPCOMING EVENTS.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
UPDATE: NorCal's Poetry Slam Fanzine.
04-08-09 Vol. 12, No. 15.

~~~~~~~~~~~
(1) NEWS & TIBITS
~~~~~~~~

---YOUTHSPEAKS FINALS: This IS the biggest single
slam-related event in the world, held right here in
the Bay Area on Saturday, April 11, at 7:00 PM.
The emcee will be former SF Slam Host, Marc Bamuthi
Joseph. Last year, they sold out the Opera House,
with more than 3,000 attending! For all the
details, visit their lovely website:
www.youthspeaks.org

---TOURING POETS: Seattle’s Crista Bell is in town
for the S.F. Slam Sunday. Details: (). Dusty Rose
& Mumbles return to the Bay after a national tour.
Details: (2,5).

---OAKLAND SEMIFINALS promise to be mesmerizing,
with an incredible line-up of talent in the mix.
Details: (10).

---INTELLIGENT READING: Why haven’t there been more
terrorist attacks on American soil?
www.slate.com/id/2208971/

---SILLY FUN:
www.youtube.com/watch


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(2)BERZERKELEY POETRY SLAM --Next Slam: EVERY WEDS.
* West Coast Champions *
Ekabhumi checks in:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
***ONLY 2 MORE SLAMS BEFORE SEMIS!***
----THIS WEEK, April 8: Open Slam: $150 Prizes!
Metaphorical Mayhem! Live Jazz! Hosted
by: Lucky 7 & Lillitu Shahar. Live Jazz by 3 Blind
Mice.
----FEATURING: Stacie Boschma & Dusty Rose.
---Stacie Boschma says things. With a slightly
skewed worldview and well-worn heart, her work
chronicles the day to day intersection of funny
and tender. She focuses on the good stuff – the
moments that we all replay in our minds over and
over, using poetry and its performance as a kind of
emotional photography. Stacie has toured widely,
featuring from DC to Savannah, to Vancouver, and
all Omahas in between. An old hand in the SE Slam
scene, she competed at various regional and national
events, including the ‘06 Nationals. She also hosted
at the Women of the World Poetry Slam in Detroit,
and was proud to emcee Atlanta Pride’s inaugural
Pride ShoutOut Poetry Slam in ‘08. In addition to
stage work, her poetry has appeared in Labrys, Limp
Wrist Magazine, The Pedestal Magazine, and the
anthology, “Look, Up In The Sky!”
---Dusty Rose is a sensualist, a poet who turns
words into a visceral experience onstage. Con-
fessional and topical, she holds her audience with
a sinuous blend of movement and imagery. She is
returning from a fantastic national tour, having
performed at dozens of venues across the continent.
She will be joined onstage by Mumbles (AKA Baraka),
a top local poet and emcee who occasionally hosted
the Berkeley Slam, among others.
----LAST WEEK (Joshua Walters checks in):
---Hot Damn! The BAD Poetry Slam was a triumphant
success! It turns out that bad poems make for
excellent comedy. The night was filled with un-
orthodox attempts at capturing the lowest score
possible. The crowd was ruckus and the poets were
in a good mood, in a night like this you can't take
yourself seriously, even if you really want the
cheese. Gary from Boston sacrificed and to show
them what bad poetry looks like I was forced to
bust out my wackest rhymes and most annoying sing-
ing. New commer and first timer to Berkeley Samantha
went next with a sweet poem about her father. Jamie
DeWolf ripped it hard and hilarious, folks were on
the floor with his mock poem, judges hated but he
went overtime which counted in reverse. Stephen
Meads played it timid and awkward, and the crowd
and judges approved of his Bernstein Bare ways.
Captain went creepy like a bad Bruce Campbell
impression. The beautiful Lura went 6 minutes long
and had to be stopped, but received our comple-
mentary chocolates for the highest score. Jen G.
and Tanya teamed up to be the rip roarer Wildabeast
Trio and brought the house down. Andrew Lowe set up
three mics for 2 1/2 minutes and then screamed
"cock pocket" (the word of the day) falling to the
floor, which was the lowest score by far. Big props
to Ekabhumi for going out like a rock star of BAD
when he spit on the audience and then swallowed the
mic hole.
---Our Features were the lovely Iyeoka who brought
her guitarist and Keven Holmes who brought his
bassist. Both features incorporated music well in
their sets. Iyeoka, her guitarist, and J. Walters
on beatbox teamed up for the final number of the set
that was pure magic--the audience was one to say
"NOT bad old chum, NOT bad." R2 was epic, to sac-
rifice was the Mary Shelly Duo Comprised of CAL
Swordsmen Abe, Terry and Matt Blesse who translated
the sounds of Frankenstein. Ekabhumi started the
round and did a painfully retelling of a an old
story that had the crowd cringing. Lisa S. went off
the cuff about white privilege, which earned her
high marks and 3rd place. The Wildabeast Trio took
home the silver and finished 2nd, but taking home
100$ plus 20lb block of cheese was Andrew Lowe
making it his namesake to have the lowest score of
the night! The final poem was my favorite when
Stephen Meads brought up Brian G. to be disqual-
ified in the spontaneous team peace "Facts about
Truth" that had the audience pounding the stage, it
was just that funny. If you missed it you missed it.
As a host this had to be my favorite themed slam
ever. 
-----UPCOMING:
--April 8: OPEN SLAM Stacie Boschma & Dusty Rose.
Hosts Lucky 7 & Ekabhumi.
----We’re on Facebook! Drop by and say hi!
www.facebook.com/home.php#...6551409302
----WE’RE IN THE HOMESTRETCH: Qualify NOW, folks,
because Semifinals are in April!!!
-----CURRENT POET STANDINGS (top 16 go to Semi’s):
Trashcanpoet: 17 points, Jelal: 14, Joyce: 14,
Lucky: 13, Tatyana B: 13, i: 8, Lee Knight: 8,
Abe: 7, Danny S: 7, Dre: 7, Jen G: 7, Stephen M: 7,
Annelyse: 6, Dahled: 5, John Mark: 5, Leigh Ann: 5,
Nazelah: 5, Tam: 5.
------STARRY PLOUGH. 3101 Shattuck. 510-841-2082.
(1 block uphill of Ashby BART). EVERY WEDS.
8:30-11pm. Sign-ups: 7:30. ALL AGES before 9pm.
Hosts: Ekabhumi, Betsy Gomez, Jamie DeWolf,
Lucky 7, Joshua Walters, & Dre.
www.myspace.com/berkeleypoetryslam
www.berkeleypoetryslam.com
Contact: voluptuary @ hotmail.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(3) MONTEREY --Every Wednesday.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
--EAST VILLAGE COFFEE LOUNGE. 498 Washington St.
(@Pearl St.) near Downtown Monterey.
Show: 8:00-10:00pm. $3 donation.
Open Mic & slam every Wednesday.
Host: Garland Thompson.
Booking: gtpoet @ gmail.com
The Rubber Chicken Poetry Slam & Open Mic

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(4) MODESTO --Next Slam: WEDS, April 8.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-----Prospect Theatre Project, 520 Scenic Dr.
Modesto, CA, 95350 DOORS OPEN / POET SIGN-UP: 6:30 PM.
SHOW STARTS: 7:30 PM sharp! 2nd WED MONTHLY.
COST: $5.00 for general admission & competing poets.
Admission is limited to the first 100 people.
INFO: Sam Pierstorff (pierstorffs @ mjc.edu)
WEB: www.slamonrye.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(5)CHICO --Next Slam: THURS, April 9.
Tazuo checks in:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
----Much updated info for chicoslam:
----Our a FANTASTIC new venue - it's Cafe Culture
(chicoCafeCulture.com) and we have added a freestyle
topic rap battle and haiku head to head to our
show...
----Here are the updated dates:
April 9 Dusty Rose and Mumbles from the bay
April 23 Rudy Francisco from San Diego
May 7 Donielle Monique from Columbus, Ohio
----Our myspace is updated too..
www.myspace.com/chicopoetryslam
facebook - chico poetryslam
chicoCafeCulture.com
----Cafe Culture. 931 W. 5th Street.
all at 7pm -$5
Chico, CA. 7pm. All Ages.
Every other THURS. Hosted by Tazuo.
www.myspace.com/chicopoetreeslam
Info: wordgroove@yahoo.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(6)SANTA CRUZ/Kinetic Poetics: Thurs, April 9.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
----Cafe Revolucion at College 10,
on the UC Santa Cruz campus.
Every 2nd THURS, except school holidays.
$3-5 donation requested (no one turned away).
8:30 sign ups, 9pm slam.
More info: kineticpoetics@gmail.com
www.kineticpoetics.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(7) S.F./ The City Slam --Next Slam: April 12.
Mona Webb checks in:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
----Next month, join us for one of our very last
qualifiers for the legendary S.F. Slam Team!
Featuring: Seattle’s enchanting Crista Bell!
----Christa Bell is an award-winning feminist folk
poet, performance artist, and cultural activist from
Seattle, Washington. A National Poetry Slam (NPS)
Champion, National Public Radio alumna and inter-
nationally touring artist Bell's work is crafted by
combining the oral poetic and storytelling traditions
of the Classical Black American Church with rhythmic
elements of Hip-Hop and the body-centered awareness
and transformative mission of women's sacred ritual.
Her work is an act of resistance towards the inter-
national corporately-sanctioned attack on women
in mainstream hip-hop and mass media. As a spoken-word
artist, poet and monologist Bell has created a body of
work that is both a cultural insurgency and spiritual-
political revival in celebration of the gospel
according to women.
----A graduate of San Francisco State University with
a degree in Creative Writing, Bell has studied in
France and lived in east Africa. She is the author of
three collections of poetry, two spoken word CD's and
the creatrix of the one-woman phenomenon, "Coochie-
Magik: A SpokenWord Musical Comedy" directed by ac-
claimed performance maverik Baraka de Soleil. Christa
is currently an artist-in-residence with Seatttle Arts
and Lectures and a core member of the Brooklyn, NY
based performance arts collective, D UNDERBELLY. She
has shared stages with political and creative lumin-
iaries such as Angela Y. Davis, Saul Williams, Muta
Baruka, Ursula Rucker, Bill Frisell and many others.
----FREE CREOLE FOOD! Being a Southern girl, Mona
(your hostess) believes that one of the best ways to
say "Thank You" is by providing a full belly. Arrive
early before we run out!
----DJ Munkepantz: Mixes the funky old skool
jointz on the 1's & 2's!
----The City Slam & Experimental Mic. A forum for
lyrical creativity: layering poetry, music, dance,
& all artistic avenues of expression.
Normally Second Sunday of Every Month...
---- MAMA CALIZO'S VOICE FACTORY THEATER
1519 Mission (at 11th a few blocks from the Civic
Center BART, next to Fire Stone Tires), SF, 94103.
HOST: MONA WEBB & Co-Host: CHARLES EKABHUMI ELLIK
7-10:00pm Door: $6. ALL AGES VENUE. Cash Prizes.
Info:myspace.com/thecityslam
myspace.com/goldengateslam
thecityslam@yahoo.com
www.voicefactorysf.org

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(8)SONOMA SLAM --Next Slam: FRI, April 17.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
----April 17 Rincon Valley 6959 Montecito Blvd.,
Santa Rosa
----May 15 GRAND SLAM Central Santa Rosa 3rd and
E Streets, Santa Rosa
----VERIOUS LOCATIONS. For details, please visit
the Sonoma Library website.
sonomalibrary.org/programs/...Slams.html
Every 1st FRIDAY. Slam at 7 p.m. (doors: 6:45)
All Ages. FREE!
Hosted by: Go & Armando Garcia-Dávila
More info: Vandy Tompkins - 707-545- 0831.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(9)OAK/Golden State Slam --Next Slam: TUES, Apr 21.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
----Grand Lake Coffee House. 440 Grand Ave.
Right Next to the Barbershop, Across the
street from Ahn's Burgers.
3rd TUES MONTHLY. Cash Prizes.
Oakland, CA. 510.495.7211
Drawing starts at 8pm
Show starts at 8:35 SHARP!!
$ 5 admission. ALL AGES WELCOME!!
Questions? goldengatesla@ gmail. com
www.myspace.com/goldenstateslam
www.myspace.com/nercity

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(10)OAKLAND SLAM --Next Slam: THURS, April 21.
Dahled checks in from The Town:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
---Slam Fam!!
---We have NOT one, NOT two but THREE spectacular
shows to tell you about. It's the end of the season,
the slammers have all slammed the judges have all
judged and the audience has been brought to tears or
guffawed their guts out. Now, all that left is for
you to pick the 10th Annual Oakland Poetry Slam
Team!!
---First though we have to find out who's in finals.
To do that we have 2 semifinal bouts, each with 7 of
the town's hottest spoken-word artists. The first of
these hard fought battles is hosted by The Golden
State Slam and will happen on Tuesday April 21st @
The Grand Lake Coffee Shop (440 Grand). The poets
battling for the four spots in finals include mem-
bers of last years team, former youth and collegiate
champs, local vets, touring poets testing the waters
here in the Bay and up-and-comers. Semifinalists in
this bout include; Jaylee Alde, D.dra, Dahled, Jose
Vadi, Joyce Lee, Dre & Chas. This is guaranteed to
be one of the hottest slams of the year.
---In our 2nd semi - just TWO DAYS LATER at The
Oasis - we have if anything, an even harder hitting
line up. There are Grand Slam Champs from our '03,
'05, '07 & '08 seasons - together in Semi's! There
they'll face off against some former team members
from Berkeley, SF & LA (yup, that LA) and a who's
who of the hottest up and coming talent. In thi
bout is; nerCity, Prentice Powell, Mesej 1, "i",
Leigh Ann, Jelal & Jason MacBeth.
---You definitely don't wanna miss either of these
Slams.
---And that's before we even get to FINALS!!! Stay
tuned...
-----The Oakland Poetry Slam
Semifinal #1
TUESDAY Apr. 21st
The Grand Lake Coffee Shop
440 Grand Ave (@ Staten)
8:00 pm
-----The Oakland Poetry Slam
Semifinal #2
THURSDAY Apr. 23rd
The Oasis Restaurant & Bar
135 12th st. (@ madison)
8:00 pm
-----The Oasis Restaurant & Bar.
135 12th St. (@ Madison).
$5 (UNDER 18), $10 General ($7 online guest-list)
Last Thurs. Monthly. Performances - 8:30 - 11:00
Dance Floor open - 11:00 - until ?
Cash Prizes. Host: Nazelah J Jeffries
More Info: oaklandslam @ gmail.com
www.myspace.com/oaklandslam

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(11)SANTA CRUZ/ City Slam --Next: TUES, April 21.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
----The Crepe Place. 1134 Soquel Ave, 95062.
(831) 429-6994. All Ages.
Sign ups: 7:30pm, Show: 8pm.
Door: $4, $50 to first place.
1st and 3rd Tuesdays MONTHLY.
All Ages. Full Bar. Full Dinner Menu.
More info: sccityslam @gmail. com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(12)SAN JOSE/Indi Slam --Next Slam: MON, April 27.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
----REMEMBER: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!
----MACLA. 510 S.1st, San Jose, Ca.
Doors Open 7:00. Sign-up for Slam 7:30-7:45
Show Starts: 8:00 Sharp & Ends: 10:00 Sharp
EVERY 4TH MONDAY OF THE MONTH
$6 ADMIN.
big nate da poet@ yahoo.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(13)FAIRFIELD --Next Slam: TUES, April 28.
Go checks in from the North Bay:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
----Features:
April 28- Do Dirty, Modesto
May 26- Ms. Ashleigh, Sacramento
-----Missouri Street Theater. 1125 Missouri St.
Fairfield, CA. All Ages. $7 door donation. ($5
for students with school ID or students of
Missouri Street Theatre Workshop, classes or
productions) $89 in prizes. 7-10pm.
(Sign-up for open mic and slam begin at 6:30pm)
Last Tuesday MONTHLY. Host/Producer: -GO.
Web-host/Slammaster: Conocida
Fairfield, CA. (707) 803-3393 
  MySpace.com, YouTube.com/3rdEyeCollective
----Watch AI Live from Monterey to Vacaville:
On Demand» Go Local » Local Events
» 3EC presents: AI Live
More Info: 3rdEyeCollective @gmail. com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(14)SACRAMENTO/Mahogany --Next Slam: WEDS, April 29.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
----Queen Sheba Restaurant. 1704 Broadway (at 17th).
Open Mic Poetry & Music every Weds. Slam: LAST WEDS.
8pm-11pm. $5 cover. All Ages.
More Info: malikspeaks@ aol. com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(15) OAK/Tourettes --Next Slam: THURS, May 7.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-----THE OAKLAND METRO * 630 3rd St. Oakland, CA
Sign up: 8pm, Show: 8:30 * $10
* ALL AGES * Full Bar *
Carnal Carnage by SIS * Beatboxin' by SYZYGY
Hosts: Jamie DeWolf & D Silence.
Onstage Freakin' by MS. ECCENTRIC and MR. MASCOT
Battle Beats by DJ Fxck Off!
Info: tongueartillery@ yahoo .com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(16)SAN JOSE SLAM --Next Slam: MON, May 11.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
----Standings towards qualifications for Nationals
(before adding in results from this week):
Clay________________________________14
Kat Dietrich________________________10
John Staedler_______________________8
Patrick_____________________________5
Danny D.____________________________4
Dave Perez__________________________4
Kristina Roberston__________________3
Chris Bundy_________________________3
Jen G_______________________________2 
Mike Mcgee__________________________2
Scorpiana X_________________________2
Wes Moots___________________________2
Point Breakdown:
Host=1
1st place=4
2nd place=3
3rd place=2
----UPCOMING EVENTS:
May 11th: Josh Healey
----MACLA. 510 S 1st Street.
San Jose, CA. $6 at the door
7:30 PM sign up, 8 PM show starts
MORE INFO: Kat0ninetales @aol. com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(17)INDI WORLD POETRY SLAM --October 8-10, 2009
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
---iWPS 2009: This incredible event to will come
to Berkeley in 2009! 72 poets representing slam
venues from around the world converge for three
days of competition, electrifying audiences with
their talents.
www.individualworldpoetryslam.com
---Berkeley plans to add many related day events
and side competitions to the main tournament.
---If you're interested in helping, sponsoring, or
just want to be a fly on the wall, please join:
groups.yahoo.com/group/iWPS_ 2009_NorCal

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(18)BERKELEY/Cal Slam -- TBA.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
---Congratulations to team U.C. Berkeley, who
just finished 3rd at the Collegiate National
poetry Slam!
----UC Berkeley Campus.
More Info: calpoetryslam@yahoo.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BONUS HAIKU/SENRIYU
by Yours Truly:
~~~~~~~~~~~~


From the perfection
of a spring night: a gold hole
where the dawn leaks out.



~~~~~~~~~~
--See Ya At Tha Slam!
Charles Ekabhumi Ellik, ed.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~
--NORCAL SLAM UPDATE is my online fanzine of the
NorCal slam scene, posted every Tues. It's highly
subjective & reviews are limited to where Chaz
can visit. No ads or paid endorsements accepted.
Non-slam events included as sanity & space permits.
Beware! Slams are not for faint of heart! The
UPDATE, its editor & contributors & host sites
are not responsible for what happens if you attend
any of the shows listed.
--Weekly Circulation: approx. 3,700 world-wide.
--All local reports are edited for length.
--Slams nationwide: www.poetryslam.com
--A listserve to chat about slams in NorCal:
norcalslams-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
--To join the oldest international slam listserve:
email: poetry_slam-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
--For info on many non-slam poetry events in CA
(NorCal) www.poetryflash.org/
(SoCal) www.poetix.net
---Photo's of slams: www.poeticdream.com
---An 'incomplete history' of slam's early days:
www.e-poets.net/library/slam/
---Your Editor's Site:
people.tribe.net/charles

Poems
By Charles Ekabhumi Ellik

After The Buses Stop Running
My Bloodshot Eyes
Little Green Pea
Snugglicious
Pain Suite
Vancouver Harbor
Sea Of Serenity
Bread
Chipped Teeth


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AFTER THE BUSES STOP RUNNING
Copyright 2010 By Charles Ellik
From a collection called Kickass Capitalist Machine


My lips rest against
her supple back.
A window shade rises
like a bride's veil.

This is a silent film
without subtitles.

A tongue of light
draws a diagonal
down one plaster wall.
It touches the floor
like a young boy’s
first French kiss.

There is nothing
in this spotlight.

My lover moans softly
slides from my sweat.
Strands of black hair
coil serpentine behind.
They are hypnotists
entangling my ears.

We ignore the clock
and it ignores us.

Fevered cats fighting
fence-top battles outside
and jasmine blooms luring
nocturnal pollination
are omens ripe for reading.

But this summer night
is too hot for thinking.

Through an open window
a stealthy silver moon
creeps across the room
and kisses us asleep.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
MY BLOODSHOT EYES
By Charles Ellik
From a collection called Dead Cat Bounce,
also published in Poems From The Big Muddy: The 2004 National Poetry Slam.

In the last three months
working at the Stock Exchange
an angry vein has burned its way
across the white of my right eye.
It does not stumble
like some happy drunk
after a late night of too much fun
it is a sober marksman
a straight arrow of stress.
On those frequent mornings
when I am late
and I run for the train
or a Floor-wide Fast Market is declared
it throbs like an organic time bomb.
I’ve tried squinting on one side
tried eyedrops and messaging
but like some stubborn Marxist saboteur
it makes no compromises
unsatisfied with anything less
than my renouncing Capitalism
and quitting my job.

I laughed when I go this job.
Laughed at my art school buddies
who worried that it would change me.
It was just a joke. Awell-paid lark.
I would be an undercover bohemian
peeping the squares’ game
collecting material for my poetry.
But greed is a disease
no medicine can cure
and now I’ve got it bad.
As more veins crawl
across the whites of my eyes
toward my pupils
my laughter and friends are forgotten.
Each morning in the mirror
I forecast the day they will meet
like a transcontinental railway
and send crimson bars across my vision
the golden spike of my ambition
sealing a prison with no key.

I’ve chiseled my face from marble
set diamonds in my gums for teeth
forged a spine from stainless steel
but my eyes
my tender eyes are water balloons
delicate fingers of my brain.
Now vericose tentacles
grip them from behind
drawing them back into
the safety of my titanium skull
room finally made
for a pair of bionic glass balls
programmed to display
only ticker tape parades
my armor now complete
monster of my own creation
one thousand years from now
pick up my impeccably preserved body
and shake it to hear my
dried and shriveled heart
rattle like a stone
my shrunken eyes
like the springs of a watch
wound too tight
my hollow body the perfect citizen
of a city that never sleeps
never wakes
never knows a hope
or remembers a gentle village
spreading like an irrational number
once invented to describe perfection
now a model of futility
I stand on the floor
of the Stock Options Exchange
and blink my eyes.

After three years of running numbers
my vision is permanently impaired.
I can no longer see what I have lost
barely discern what I have
all I can see clearly
is what I don’t own yet.
I guess you could say
I am part of the problem.
I guess you could say
I’m becoming short-sighted.
But if you ask me
I’ll tell you I’m just doing my job
just paying my dues
just holding on for the big payoff
while the angry vein
of my right eye
stings and throbs
like an over-pressured gas main
just one dollar shy of blowing
just one blink away from crying blood
like some godless martyr
of the Options Floor.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LITTLE GREEN PEA
By Charles Ellik
From The Complete Idiot’s Guide To Poetry


If the sun were the size of a big-screen TV, Earth would be the size of a little green pea. It takes two minutes to walk from the Sun to the Earth. That's four times the speed of light. If this pea were the size of the Pentagon, Oakland (CA) would be the size of a Science Fiction novel. If the novel were the size of Mount Sinai, I would be the size of a pea. I'm feeling kinda small and green and squishy today.
My thoughts are moving four times the speed of light. So fast, I'm time travelling and shape-shifting. I'm a half-baked green pea walking down a perfectly normal sidewalk in America of the recent past. The sky is brilliant blue. Not even clouds are flying today. Nobody notices I'm green. They all look a little green themselves. Quaint newspaper stands are filled with antique headlines: Some baseball star hit 64 home runs. The price of power is up. President Bush is still a joke and he says we need more power. Maybe we can import it from Mexico…
My mind is at WARP 11 and my consciousness is beaming into other bodies. Who put this funny green paper in my pocket? This is not my beautiful wife. I don't know how to fly this thing. Who's that guy in the suit? Mr. President, I have some urgent news…I'm at a nice restaurant with an incredible view. I look up from the Wall Street Journal and there's a jumbo jet…I'm covered in sweat and running up the stairs, with an axe and a respirator in my hands. The building begins to shake…
I'm trapped in a posh office in the South Tower punching an emergency code into my wrist computer. The Bat Copter has left the Bat Cave on Auto Pilot, but events are unfolding too quick, this wasn't in the script, there are no bad-asses left alive to kick. Why was there no warning? I've got Bat Satellites so small they can see evil intent. Batman don't need no stinking bench warrant. So how did I miss it? If I jump out the shattered window without my cape, I hit in 7.8 seconds and splat like a pea. I open my Bat Wallet, but the Law of Gravity no longer accepts credit. Where the fuck is Superman?
I just planted an American flag on the fourth moon of Jupiter and claimed it for Truth, Justice, and the American Way. I just kicked some alien ass and Ganymede is now safe for Petrochemical exploration. An SOS just arrived from the Justice League …thirty minutes too late. Where the Hell was the Incredible Hulk?
I'm standing on a corner in Oakland (CA) staring slack-jawed at a television set. An invisible monster is trampling New York, but I am unable to get angry. Ever since the court-ordered anger management course, the corporate job and Prozac, I haven't felt much at all. I'm green alright, but I'm kinda small and green and squishy.
I take out my driver's license and look at the old picture to remind myself how I will look tomorrow. Tomorrow when America is at War. When five thousand will die suddenly. When America is forty zillion one-hundred seventy-six trillion miles from the center of the Galaxy. Only a Superman can grasp that number and make it make sense. Halfway home, just past the orbit of Mars, I get it. America is NOT the center of the universe. Nowhere near it. But I'm too late this time. Too late to save my comic book nation from finally growing up the hard way.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SNUGGLICIOUS
Copyright 2010 By Charles Ellik
Published in The Complete Idiot’s Guide To Poetry
and High Desert Voices: The 2005 National Poetry Slam Anthology

Baby, I'm feeling really
…warm.
I wanna stick my
…nose
in the nape of your neck!
Nibble on your
…earlobe.
Baby-doll-buttercup-boo-boo-bear
let's
…take a nap.

I wanna fluff your pillows
turn down your sheets
take those fuzzy pink bunnies
from off of your feet!
Nightcap?
How about a shot of
herbal tea?
Not that weak decaffinated sludge...
we're talking Sleepytime Tea... oh, yeah!
Snugglicious!
Snuggledelic!
Snug-O-Matic!

We'll start with the easy positions
everyone has heard of:, like:
The Hug, The Nuzzle, The Spoon.
and after a year or two
we'll be black belts of Snuggle-Fu
doing dangerous advanced moves, like:
Paddy Cake
Deep Meaningful Look
and ...Mutual Mint Floss!
We'll have matching T-Shirts:
"I'm with cutie-pie!"
"I'm with snuggle-puss!"

When we go to the movies
we'll skip those ultra-violent flicks
filled with blood and guts and guns and bricks
bloody limbs and all the other clichés
Hollywood sells to little kids.
Instead, we'll go to mature late-night Drive-Ins
and watch movies with ...Puppies
licking the faces of innocent children!
Sunshine and flowers and chirping birds!

Then we'll drive to Vista Point
where I'll whip out my ...trusty flashlight
and read to you from
Where The Wild Things Are
while playing footsie beneath a blanket
in the back seat of your car!

And if we should, um,
you know, ah,
KISS
or something?
Don't worry! I'm not like the other guys!
I'm not afraid to be seen
riding a bicycle built for two with you!
I'm not even afraid
to be in the bathroom while you poop!
Yeah, I said it.
It takes a real lover
to accept another with all their flaws
To touch with the tenderness
of a Teddy Bear's paws.

So, angel, if you've grown bored of those
serial short-term relationships
of strangers who won't even kiss you on the lips
Come with me and take a walk on the Mild Side
Once there my love,
you will surely find
In this society where violence
is entertainment
and violent sex is hip?
There's nothing more kinky bizarre or absurd
than a loving long-term relationship!



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pain Suite
Copyright 2010 By Charles Ellik

Pain is a flower
most folks pull from their garden
thinking it common

How precious and rare
to be born in a human body
even angels lust.

Some say that Yoga
is soft. Easy. For wimps. Yes.
No. It is a mirror.

Miracles do not blossom
In the intense heat
Of skepticism

Some pain is torture.
Some, pleasure. The difference?
How I ask for it.

A rose with no thorns
Is a teacher with no truth
A bowl with no food.

Time is the master
Sculptor of enlightened souls
Her tools never dull.

Inside every rock
A silent Buddha waiting
For the stone carver.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

VANCOUVER HARBOR
Copyright 2010 By Charles Ellik
From a collection called Landscapes

In the shadow of sleek condo towers, I stand with a group of poets on a fashionable marina boardwalk. Pricey glass-walled restaurants perch on pylons as though annoyed by the frigid water. Fiberglass girls bob obediently at their docks like million dollar yachts waiting for the Man to finish dinner. Wood-fired pizza. My friends look down at their watches and look up at the sky. Chill Pacific wind. Water burbling against the seawall. Seagulls squawking. Traffic complains in the city behind us. On a far shore, some industrious child left his Monopoly houses, black and red container ships, rafts of Lincoln Logs, Hotwheels, cranes like stick-figure horses. Facing the city, across hammered steel blue waters: Vancouver mountains painted lapis blue and slate gray. Forest-cloaked slopes, snowy crowns wrapped in silken mists. Between us, low clouds of ray, lavender, and dusty gold with patches of brilliant blue. The sun is nearly setting. She slips her warm fingers horizontally beneath the clouds like an inquisitive hand under a sweater…and pulls out a miracle. Joggers stop jogging. Yuppies on penthouse balconies stand pointing. The mouths of retirees in camel-hair coats hang open. Construction workers look up from their tools and squint. A police cruiser parks and its tinted window slides down. We all stand facing East, looking across Coal Harbor composing operatic crescendos in our minds for the vision manifesting before our eyes. Some-mysterious-where, between the expensive city and the priceless mountains, a Rainbow appears. Redder than blood or scandal, more yellow than cowardice or sour candy, Greener than lust, bluer than Jazz or sapphires or a gas flame, solid as Faith. Alone it would be spectacular, a sizzling arc of Art, an omen, a comet's tail, the bow of Apollo…but today heaven splits…two, three, four, layers…and as the sun sinks, a fifth pale rainbow emerges! All stacked on one another like a spool of fairytale thread until too pale to distinguish, too thin to differentiate. Ripples from an epic drop of sunlight. A Science Fiction tunnel into the dimension of Living Colors. Above the primary arch is a gap of clear air like an empty track on an album, then two MORE rainbows, each half as brilliant, half again as wide. A seven-layer rainbow. I have to remind myself I am not religious. Spectators begin laughing and patting one another on the back, as if taking credit. We are vain philosophers convinced it could not exist without witnesses, as if it were some diva who'd refuse to perform for an empty house. Then the mischievous sun slips below the horizon before anyone can find a camera, and our miracle fades. The sky is sudsy dish water. The city remembers its clocks. Parked cars and trucks cough as though embarrassed and merge back into traffic. My poet-friends applaud. None of us spent a dime.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SEA OF SERENITY
Copyright 2010 By Charles Ellik

Thirty-four thousand feet above me
on a flight bound for tomorrow
an old man nods off
and dreams of the poet
he used to be
writing only by the light
of this full moon.
He wears a daisy on his lapel
and he looks a lot like me.

Thirteen feet to my right
and three years ago
the woman who broke my heart
just twitched
signaling deep sleep.
She will dream of nothing
but shattered glass.

Three inches from my nose
is a sliding door
beyond it, my balcony
and past that, a night
seething with possibilities.
That plate glass door
is fogged with the songs
I would have sung
if I'd been given
the gift of tongues
instead, I draw a heart
which fades even as I watch it.
Chill air radiates
from that indifferent glass
goosebumps take flight
and the moon
she saunters so low
barely modest beyond
her silky veil of clouds
wearing a pale moonbow crown
like a silver halo.
Only she isn't Christian.
A much more ancient temptation
calling on her priestesses
to sew the earth with tears
of smitten men
that weird vines might grow
like mathematical theories
and blossom stinking platinum daisies
of Art, and Genius, and Poetry
to be sewn in her hair
as consolation
when Dawn slips yet another
bright knife between her ribs.

Thirty four thousand feet beneath me
the Earth has resigned himself
to another billion years
of magma heartburn
Oh, that moon' out
prowling again tonight.

On the balcony rail
my potted plants
know only moon and moisture.
Dreaming of daybreak
like I dream of an honest kiss.
Silhouetted prickly and succulent
against the dim-lit
clapboard Victorian wall next door
wishing the Earth
would just spin faster.

I watch the plants growing
and the clouds wheeling
and the houses awaiting earthquakes
and meditate here
on a small blue rug
knowing She is asleep
in the other room.
Not my ex-girlfriend
of three years past
or some stranger
I've lured upstairs
with promises of daisies
but a vast kind of She
who wears the face of my future.
I know this with the same
animal instinct
that can hear glass shatter
in a dream three years ago.
And my animal tells me
that I should be asleep in bed beside her
matching my dreaming with hers
composing a bright mosaic of children
and unconscious until
the rough handshake of day.
Yet the wide-eyed mystic of me
begs for another moment
demands another chance
to witness that veil of clouds parting
to memorize the moons name
and to carry her
like a cool secret
into the hot forgetful morning.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BREAD
By Charles Ekabhumi Ellik
From a collection called Voluptuary

Last night I was
a field of wheat.
Last night, I was ripe.
Last night, I was cut from my roots
and my skin tossed to the wind.
Last night, my heart
was separated from my body
and ground to a powder.
Last night I was a bag of flour.
Last night, I was carried countless miles
by cart, truck, ship, train and plane.
Last night I danced with eggs and yeast
and salt and sugar and water.
Last night, hands I did not know
kneaded my flesh.
Last night, I forgot who I was.
Last night, I was laid to rest
on a metal bed, but I rose again.
Last night I slept in an oven.
Last night, I was perfume.
Last night, my hot new body
was sliced into pieces
and painted with honey.
Last night, I felt your lips
your tongue, your teeth.
Last night, I touched you in places
no fingers can reach!
My wish was your promise,
my dream, your need,
my army, your fingers.
Last night, I became you.

And this morning?
This morning I awoke.
I awoke hungry.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHIPPED TEETH
Copyright 2010 By Charles Ellik
From a collection called, Kickass Capitalist Machine

Heedless passion
etched in enamel.
Scrimshaw Valentines.
Not forgetful fleshy
bruises or scents.
Clicks of enamel.
Splinters of rigid.
A rough spot
for my tongue
to return to
decades from now:
A new affair.
Some one
much too young.
An unreliable auto
still uninsured.
A night parked
embracing naked
on Signal Hill.
A diamond
studded horizon
witnessed our car
swaying as if sailing
over nocturnal seas.
A pregnant moon
illuminated mysterious
hieroglyphics
in foggy windows
written by two poets'
delirious limbs when
tangled in giggles
our smiles met
and skeletons kissed.