My Open Mic Experience

I am posting a poem I recited at Open Mic at the Bowery Club on June 24th, 2018.

Such a priceless experience I will never forget.

I remember last year around this time,
had dreams of making you mine
but underconfident I couldn’t reach the finish line
because I didn’t have a dime.
No joke when you’re on the decline.
Barely food for dinner.
Cold during the winter
People mistaken me for a drug addict.
People mistaken me for an alcoholic.
Everything is part of God’s plan,
and I felt like hell was my destination,
but still kept the bible in my hand.
It wasn’t easy as a man.
How do you thank Jesus
when searching for scraps
in trash cans?
Just couldn’t give up.
Becoming inpatient
until I saw your face.
You felt sorry for me
and gave me a plate food
to stuff my skinny face.
You walked past
and visited everyday
in the alley by the fire escape
to drop off food
which gradually put
me in a better mood.
Vienna Sausage and soup.
So, we began to converse
and I learned you
was a registered nurse.
I told you I write poetry
and short stories.
Your face lit up
because you love poetry.
You asked me to recite a poem

“I feel like an airship
high and mighty
but I am a sinking ship
just forever drowning
I feel like an African King
ruling my kingdom
side by side with my lovely queen
but I am slave, a peasant,
body worn down
from building tall pyramids.
I feel like a pastor
preaching to the congregation
on Easter,
making people in believers
but I am a hypocrite
for telling civilians
that walk by me to follow Jesus
since the skin my body
is dirty.
I feel like I’m dwelling in heaven
but this morning I almost committed suicide.
I feel like I have all the answers
but I have so many answered questions.
I feel like the devil is a liar
but he told Eve the truth
about the tree of knowledge
of good and evil.
I feel like a black hero
saving my people
but I feel like a false king
like Scar
waiting for judgment day
when the lake of fire
burns my face.
All men created equal
in a world
that so vile and diabolical.
These thoughts have me suicidal
but for some reason I refuse to.”

You are just speechless.
You believe that poem is unique
and you love the way I speak.
You say you will take me
to Open Mic at the poetry club
next week.
Should I go to a open mic
next week?

Below I posted the link of my open mic experience.

See this Instagram video by @hockaday_poet: https://www.instagram.com/p/B4UmqaIHm_6/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet&igshid=M2M0Y2JmOTAyOA==