NPS update for 03/3/2010--"NOPEN MIC NIGHT"

Patrick, your faithful emcee here to extend the update.

4 we move on, be sure to read our article in the Independent News.
Our very own Hana Frenette wrote the superb piece
and somehow managed to make me sound intelligent.

Also, next week we announce contest rules for April.

Okay.
With 17 readers and a packed night, emotions were running in every direction.
Oh yeah, we had no mic (pardon the pun I stole from Morgan)

Scott Mayo read a prosey piece, split into two parts through the night. It detailed an adventure which took place as much in his head as it did in the world (in this case, the world was a day-trip he took to Pensacola before
establishing residency in this fine city)

Barrett continues to experiment with the effects of props on his readings; albeit, this time proving to be much more subtle than a brown bag over his head. Hookers and cryptic word play aside - this guy writes with an honest eye on everything.

And, the same goes to John Fravel - who returned tonight from a month and a half hiatus from reading (He still showed up every Tuesday, though!). The Watermelon Man, as he says: Just came to him. It was reminiscent of

John's early writings, like those included in PS--PENSACOLA.

Which, speaking of, Meghan K and her husband Joe brought to the stage towards the end of the night. By request, she read the title poem of our anthology in its entirety while Joe drummed along (as he did several times that night). It was easy to remember why she won that contest in November. That powerful piece is the 3rd page of PS--Pensacola, which anyone can pick up on Tuesday for $7.00.

Clay Cooper, a relatively new poet, read for his 3rd consecutive week. He has an interesting style. It seems he takes poetic cliches, as well as cadence to their only logical end -- satire. Clay's poem spoke of life's river, and how he drinks alcohol too much. Still, before the expected giggle fit Clay's known to induce in the crowd; he illustrated his own originality in a poem about his dog.

Renaud returned with a rendition of a favorite poem: 'down' by j ivy.

Quentin Taylor, Renaud's partner in crime (in his band Red Shoes), joined us on the stage. I'm not sure if he's a new reader or not, but he was treated with the love we give to all first timers. Reading from a cell-phone, however, inevitably produces technical issues. Luckily, Quentin didn't let his message get lost in the stumble.

Our old friend Spirit is gone, instead replaced with AKA the Poet. He seemed very clear headed on Tuesday - his poems were direct, sharp. He seemed more intune with the crowd, or perhaps they were just more responsive.

Something which has become more and more common in the past two to three months.

Morgan continues to practice on his Sonnets. If you'd like to see his progress, check out Mr. Hamilton's blog. (Which I will post up as soon as I find the link)
He's got a certain charm which never escapes the crowd, or maybe it's just the goof. Either way, he's a damn good writer - and he's only getting better.

Finally, Priya Lin wandered into the set about half-way through, requesting a spot (which I could never say no to).
She stood on stage speaking, holding her mac-book one handed so her fingers could entangle with every spirit in the air, a bombshell spit out on the first sentence. With only subtle warnings, Priya has decided to move to Hawaii. There were equal distributions of lament and excitement in those several silent pauses between her final address.

A note on Priya: she's been a constant with NPS since almost the beginning. When we first moved to EotL with the open-mic, Priya found the first and only flyer I put up for months. In the most random of places, too - a Gulf Breeze StarBucks. Thinking back, I'm not too sure why I decided to put it there. Or, why I put my own phone number on there.

Maybe for this exact reason. That's a downplay of a beautiful providence, though; I could write a million poems, but none of them would mix words together as perfectly as reality has mixed our lives.

Priya, your elegance and grace have inspired me more times than I can count, because - as is often the case with inspiration - sometimes you don't even think about it. Until you do. And, believe me when I say that you taught me something I'll never forget:

sometimes the simplest beauties are the most profound.