Der rote ZornDer rote ZornDer rote Zorn2 weeks ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Das kleine Mädchen welches auf seinem Bett saß und vor Wut tobte hieß eigentlich Anna, aber oft wurde sie der rote Zorn oder die rote Zora gerufen und dann kochte die Wut in Anna richtig hoch. Was dann geschah war immer das gleiche - die Erwachsenen wurden laut.
Es war ganz gleich, ob es Zorn in der Schule, zu Hause oder beim Einkaufen war. Die Großen konnten nichts anderes tun als Anna dann zu schimpfen oder, was noch viel schlimmer war zu rufen: „Achtung die rote Zora ist da! Achtung! Achtung!“ und dabei lachten sie.
In Anna zerbrach jedes mal etwas, kleine Stückchen in ihrem Innersten brachen kaputt und der rote Zorn holte sich diese Stückchen und beim nächsten Mal war er dann noch größer. Es fühlte sich schrecklich an und in ihr drinnen wurde das kleine Mädchen immer trauriger und trauriger. Außerdem wusste sie, dass der Zorn, der sich für sie tatsächlich rot anfühlte, wieder gewach
Forever Or NeverForever Or NeverForever Or Never3 weeks ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Forever and ever knew they’d together
They spent every hour
They did every day
Played and laughed ‘til time went away
Forever and ever said,
they’ll be together, They still had fun and laughed
and played Until one day,
they fell into a maze
forever and ever thought
they’d be together. They grew up, and
time disappeared, along with the
friendship through all of those years
forever they’ll never be together
so, turn with a twist and
gone like a flash, their past disappeared
until their very last
Together they were never meant for forever
How I Learned Life.Growing up I walked around, worshiping you from sky to ground.How I Learned Life.1 week ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
No big brother, no big sister, to catch my fall,
Cousin, oh cousin, you've seen it all.
You taught me life, with all of it's ups and downs,
And helped me up when I got pushed down.
Now when I fall, I just lay down.
But I am young and you are grown, and now I am all on my own,
Married, taken, new friends, new goals,
Farther, and farther, away you stroll.
I've been forgot, and that's okay,
Because we have all grown too old to play,
And I rather see you happy anyways.
Elu, and kawaii thingsYo, like Eli. He's so cool, like say if he was a jew, I'd still like him. That's a rare fucking thing, but dude lets stay to the point. He's smart, he's gay, he's happy, and I uber like this. Here's a short poem about himElu, and kawaii things1 week ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
Elu is Kawaii
and fuck this
Aren't we allYou and me we're just the same,Aren't we all2 weeks ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
yet I'm held down with heavy chains.
You run free, with a spring in your step,
I can't crawl with out a mis-step.
You go home to love and care,
I go home, but your hardly aware.
My home is cold.
My home is bare.
My home is Alone,
nobody to care.
The question is why?
why all alone?
The answer is because,
because aren't we all?
To My Kid SisterI’ve known roads;To My Kid Sister3 weeks ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I’ve known the golden dust
Of Mojave dirt tracks.
I’ve known thunder,
Low and warm,
On a mountainside in the Pyrenees.
I step eternally
On the sun baked path.
And my feet…
My feet grow weary
With the roads they have known.
But I don’t know your road,
Cool and fledgling,
From a mudflat up North.
So I may fill your boots.
Bob-Keith's Dino AdventureBob-Keith's dino adventuireBob-Keith's Dino Adventure2 weeks ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Bob-ketih was wwalking down the african road with his vike which he was riding there was a storm clsing in on hiomm and he was scared.
he needed t5og et backt o hus hut where his non black familyu lived cuz he was albino. and people eyes hurt wqhen they lookied at him.
but he didnt care. good. he thnought let them hurt.the storm cliyud was coming closer and now he was scaerd for actual real.- he walkj
rided his bike faster than ewver before which was faster than usain bl,t could run when his kitchen was on fire. whiwh is aka fast. when
he usddenlöy got struck by lightning and everything wernt blöack unlike him. cuz he was albino.
bob-jketih was waking up from the blacknedss. and found out that he saw dinosaurs. he was coved in blood and scoares and couldnt move any
of his arms. or any of his body for that amtter.he was satruckecd by lightning so ard he was sent back in time to dino time. then all of a suddeen
The MountainThe shadows of the trees were like demon souls grasping at mine hiding in the corner. Mama and Papa sighed from the other side of the moon. Even though it was the voice of suffering, their presence lit every corner of this straight white land. However behind the mountain lie another, that escape Mama and Papa.The Mountain2 weeks ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
It spoke of graves and cases. Were they to lock me away? And then… “A.D.H.D.”
I puff my chest and invite the devil, a guest, to see me conquer the mountain's chilling allure.
I tug my father’s sleeve, my grasp tightening to be near him. “What does that mean?” My voice squeaking in fear.
“You fail to see the right of the school. You shall surely be lost in the Wall Street pool.” He softly spoke.
The mountain spoke: “These pills will make you learn and stay right, not like pinwheels.” My eyes stung to catch a glimpse of the mountain’s face.
Brick by brick I built my courage, one by one being less of a burden.
Brush StrokesFaces fade.Brush Strokes3 weeks ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
It's the hands I remember.
Gnarl-knuckled and square,
with broad fingertips like brush strokes.
My Grandfather's hands
left a legacy of unfamiliar landscapes.
I flit from one to the next like a dragonfly,
learning though color and texture
how to build fantasies.
Those hands lifted me up, far above harsher terrain.
From that unearthly vantage point,
I witnessed my father's battering rams
from between the turrets formed by my mother's fingers.
Being a princess isn't always easy.
Sometimes, wars are waged,
walls torn down,
built back up again.
Those hands gave me something to believe in
when the King, returned from far off battles,
forgot that his castle was not the enemy.
When the Queen, half-doe on her mother's side,
made timid lists of excuses for bad behavior
those hands gave me something to hope for.
Trapped between the brutal and the battered,
the Princess grew wings to utilize the only route of escape she had:
Over the castle walls, beyond the endless seas,