Last Night

I went out last night…well, that in itself is something, but not my point…ha! I went out of my apartment last night and walked down the street to a new-old Bohemian coffeehouse/beer pub and listened to open-mic poetry, singing and accoustic guitar music.

It was only my second time going so I didn’t get up and brave the microphone. But I did sit still for two hours utterly transfixed and feeling like I’d gone back in time in some old VW hippie bus.

There was the most amazing mix of people there. Male and female, older and younger, gay and not gay, coffee drinkers and beer drinkers. There were long-haired men and short-haired women (and vice versa) and folks wearing tie-dye or ties, jeans or suits, gray hair or hair dye, leather jackets or old flannel shirts.

It was like, “Wow, it’s the ’60s again!” (if the ’60s were ever really real!)…peace, love and understanding (and great pizza-panini as a reminder that this is still 21st-century California!).

All of the many different souls who gathered together there shared a common bond — love of poetry, writing, guitars and singing. And there was definitely a vibe of love for one another in that small space also.

And that (besides the great poetry and music) is what brought me back for a second visit and no doubt will bring me back again…the amazing love and respect that folks seemed to have for one another. (I say “seemed” because well, was it too good to be true?? But…how can a whole room-full of people *fake* love and respect??)

Some folks were nervous as they read their cherished creations…hands shook, voices cracked, chords got mangled, words were forgotten…but everyone received applause and encouragement.

It was kind of like coming home to a great big functionally-dysfunctional creative family.

As so much of our pop culture in the US deteriorates into the stupidity and mean-spirited distractions of reality TV, marital scandals, uncivil discourse, ruthless competition and Charlie Sheen, it is refreshing to walk into a place where truly creative souls can flourish for a couple of hours and forget about the dog-eat-dog day-job world outside the doors.

It is always a blessing when going out of the apartment results in feeling a whole heckuva lot of uplifted after the walk back home.

©March 2011 by Phyllis J. Hanniver

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.


About pjh95811

I am a writer and poet living in California. I love cats, dogs, nature, poetry, spirituality and the Pacific Ocean.
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2 Responses to Last Night

  1. loloatlarge says:

    Thank you for encouraging me to read my poem. Thank you sitting with me during the vulnerability, the good, the somewhat bad, and the always delightful. I enjoyed myself with you and all the folks surrounding us. It is a bit like going back in time, as you said. The 60’s all over again or the 20’s in the Speakeasy days only with legal alcohol! This may become a habit, especially since the panini’s are so good, and it’s for a very good cause: keeping the place open and inspiring my creativity! 🙂

  2. Phyllis says:

    ‘Twas a pleasure, Laura! See you there in 2 weeks?! : )

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