Mahogany, born in Oakland, California, has been performing on the intensely creative performance poetry scene since early 1998. As a member of the highly regarded safe sex crew, The Punany Poets (as seen on HBO's Real Sex 24 & 26) Mahogany aspires to alert the Hip-Hop generation with safer sex methods and currently spear-heads the educational program Hip-Hop Poetry as New Professional Theatre's Educational Director. Mahogany can also be heard on radio airwaves throughout the country as the femme fatale poetic voice on Hennessy's Poetry Minute.
Her past performances include special
appearances on CBS' talk shows The Ananda Lewis Show and Iyanla Vanzant Show,
while she presently completes her 2002 LadySmyth: Untitled European tour. Ms.
Browne has earned the highly-acclaimed title as one of The Nuyorican Poets Café
Grand Slam Semi-finalist (2002) in addition to winner of Harlem's phenomenal
SugarShack Slam; the Hottest Poets Slam @ Jimmy's Uptown and Buffalo, NY Njozi
Magazine's Slam & Tri-State Team Slam.
She is the author of two self-published poetic works Soul Systa's Elixir & Drifting Under the Influence, and has produced two LPs LADYSMITH: Untitled & her initial introductory CD Papercuts: An Acapella Series. Ms. Browne currently tours the ever-growing college circuit with endearing words promoting self-love and supporting women empowerment. She fronts the birth of a performance poetry union (Artist Alliance) along with a spoken word publication (Verses Magazine). As Editor-in-Chief of, a literary product focusing on the art of performance and written poetry, Mahogany and publisher Marie Malette, anticipate the launch in spring 2003. Her journalist works can be found in the pages of internationally distributed magazines KING, XXL and The Source, Canada's The Word and UK's MOBO.
Jared is also a member of the RI
outreach and info share organization SEMIprose for
Artistic Journalism. He has performed/rapped/spoken
at protests, slams, cafes, colleges, rallys, shows,
high schools, art galleries, drum circles, cyphers,
and demonstrations all over the country.
He went vegan 7 years ago and does
not drink or
smoke.. He does not own a car or a gun, eat non-fair
trade sugar or chocolate, or drink non-fair trade
coffee or tea. Is Heavily Influenced By: Bob Dylan,
Bad Religion, Public Enemy, Sage Francis, Ani Di
Franco, Chomsky, Zinn, Alixa Garcia, Michael Moore,
Cynthia McKinney, and Robert Byrd.
For the last 10 years Jaimes has
been a mobile D.J. for F.B.N.
Once voted BEST WACKY, VAGUELY LATINO POET,
his accomplishments include inclusions into Tebot Bach's O.C.
Poetry Anthology's (1 & 2) and chapbooks published by Far Star Fire
and Inevitable Press. Formerly a columnist for Next...Magazine
and a Poetry picks writer for the O.C. Weekly. (which most people
never saw because they were placed right next to the hookers)
For the non-poets: if you got married within the last 10 years, he
probably DJ'd your wedding.
He is stuck in the middle
of the big, wide world feeling
the suction,the pull
of a trigger,the push
of a button,the twitch
on the mustache of the villain,the struggling
of the ingenue tied up on the tracks.
Ah, yes the ingenue. It's always about the ingenue.
If he was 10 years younger, could set aside
his disbelief in those unbelievable words that come out
of his mouth... The secret messages
tucked into his conversation reaching out
for recognition like a great white shark
trapped in a kiddie pool; hungry and flailing,
with very little chance of survival.
He could meet the ceiling
of her expectations if only he could
spread out his arms and simply let fly.
She could rescue him with the right
question. "Are you in love with me?"
It's never that easy. Sometimes even Superman loses
the girl. Again and again he has left tattered sacrifices
on the alters of rejection. Bits of himself to
discard as needed. Xray visions
of the future holding no recognizable bones, nothing
of use. Just once he would like to prove that he isn't
some fleshless cartoon, not made of iron or steel. A man, still
a boy, really, lonely in his fleeting power, earthbound,
waiting for someone
to save him.
Jan. 29, 2003
SHE'S LEAVING HOME for Hannah Joy Hoffman
How the bridges call to her . Barely
Arrived and already wanted elsewhere. Some
Never lack admirers. The sea. The cliffs. Those young,
Nidificating spring buds as kin to her
As clouds to rain. She has kissed the sky crimson.
Held the past and present between small palms and cooed lullabys:
Just you sleep. Just you sleep my little babies. She is not
Omnipotent, still, seems to be everywhere at once, like the air
You breath. In dark rooms she leaves her electricity
Hovering like the sighs of ghosts. She bites, but
Only in endearment. She will not easily be
Forgotten by the foolish boys exploding in
Flames. The friends. The cameos who
Managed to contrive some connection.
And so, she's leaving home. Her flight
Necessary but mourned by those left behind.
-Jaimes Palacio 4/29/03
"Deprogram me from the cultural
He writes in feverish spells, often waking thousands of miles from home, abandoned by the road, prey for vultures, clutching his latest poem.
"I am the human experiment..."
His poetry is a fusion of science and art, sensual chemistry, spiritual physics, the alchemy of desire.
"she is the arch of a longbow..."
Bolt has appeared on MTV, performed at the Lollapalooza alternative rock tour and competed in three National Poetry Slams. He was invited to Portugal as opening
performer for Lisbon¹s Art Expo, slammed with local poets in Tokyo and recently returned from the Austin International Poetry Festival. He is currently working on a play about bioterrorism.
"nights fall black over this jagged cityscape..."
In a review of Bolt¹s one-man show, the Los Angeles Times proclaimed: ³There are few performers anywhere who can match his creativity, range and energy.
"leave your head in my hands..."
For upcoming performances, recordings and publications by James Bolt, check out www.rockpoet.com.
The world is created
on poetic principles
on an artistic impulse
and we attempt to grasp it
with micrometers and spectrometers
it is a world of dew drops
on spun silk spider webs
silver cloud banks
magenta sunset panoramas
which we overlay with
and colorless freeways
which we undercut with
sewer lines and subways
the Grand Spectacular
whirls above us
night after night
a woman whose soft midnight beauty
is only felt or seen
held or beheld
on weekends and holidays
let us take every day off
and work only on
weekends and holidays
let us measure our lives
not in dollars, possessions, positions
but in deep breaths of first-morning air
in glances over the far curvature of the horizon
in perfect stillnesses
let us be paid
for not doing
and see what happens
© 2001 James Bolt
wide shoulders taper
down to an
aquiline waist rooted
in powerful flared hips
languorous in hot summer
she brims erotic
naked blooms flower
jasmine perfumes the night
sticky nectar seed
wells up in plants
wells up in me
seed pods explode
over dark rich soil
into her deep soft chamber
the seasons pull us together
obsess us to merge
pour into each other
we glisten in morning light
filled with each other¹s
used for Nature¹s purposes
as Nature alone conceived us
© 2001 James Bolt
A Pushcart nominee, as well as a
candidate for Poet Laureate of California in 2002, Brendan has enjoyed an active
role in his city¹s poetry community. He served for seven years as a co-director
with The Valley Contemporary Poets, a non-profit organization promoting poetry
in the San Fernando Valley since 1980, and helped to introduce their now much
respected annual anthology. In 2001 Brendan was made a fellow at Idyllwild¹s
College of the Arts and helps to co-ordinate their summer poetry program. Two
new collections of his poetry are due out some time in 2004. He lives in Hollywood
with his cat Maggie.