Hey guys, so I recently stumbled across this one video where a homeless man shared one of his original poems. Within the poem he shared his story and truly expressed his feelings. Before watching the video I really never considered poetry and or great art coming from homeless people. Going to school in New York we pass by many homeless individuals on a daily basis but unfortunately we have become rather numb to their presence and as a result have gained to ability to easily walk right pass them without giving it a second thought. Art is a tool that can be used by anyone, and that being said inspiration for that art can come from anywhere. It made me rethink all of the times I walked by the homeless and reconsider the stories they might have behind their current lives.
Category Archives: poetry
Another Original Poem: 9/11: NYC tragedy
The poem below is called ‘Not Today’, and I recited this poem as a rap on stage in high school for a 9/11 Memorial Event my high school did on 9/11/2011. However, I wrote this poem the previous year, on 9/11/2010. The reason I had to write this poem was because I felt really bad after hearing the conspiracies about the incident. Many people claim 9/11 to have been an inside job, sparked by the American government, so that we’d have a reason to be in the Middle East for the oil. Many believe that the it was all just a scheming, selfish plan, and that the media have been lying to the public the whole time. Because ultimately we must think: is the news really what we think it is? Is that really the facts, or 0.0125% of the facts? Its not fair at all! And in my anger, this is what I jotted down in my journal:
Not Today
If the pain brings me down, let it bring me down
but it ain’t no reason to keep this frown.
The dream won’t break cuz the colors are fake
whether the black claim they’re white or the white claim they’re brown.
You could hear the gunshots and see the blood drippin’
The battle’s not over, if you think so, you’re trippin’.
Half the people here still look back until they fall outta track,
and you’ll know they’re slippin’.
Death takes us up, down, out, and away
until a bomb shuts them up and they just could not say
anything more but “stop” or “get out of the way”
cuz we refuse to die today.
The fight won’t stop until we win the fight,
Caught a fit in the cockpit but it’s alright.
People don’t know that by the end of the night,
the bullet bites harder than a damn termite.
God can’t bless a country so racist
when people here are born with so many faces
terror proposed purposely in places
leaving no more empty spaces
Red, white, and blue,
what the hell did you do?
Take the flag down
its lost its value
They still hug, kiss, and throw their peace signs
when America’s flooded with nothing but hate crimes
Back-up, shoot, get out of the way
there goes a terrorist, blow him up today
I refuse to run, I’m gonna have to stay
yeah..okay…I’ll be gone..but that day’s not today.
Message #1: An Original Poem
Hey class, here’s a poem I would like to share with you guys. I wrote it myself, and its straight from my journal. Enjoy!
Message #1:
These motives are insane
Living in peace, and not aware
of all those stuck in pain
I turn on the news, and just stare
You’re dancing, and you’re laughing
And doing whatever else you do
But you never take the time
to consider what the poor are going through
The reporter tells you lies
and you don’t even want to learn
Not until the day of your own demise
Until life took its wild turn
An “American” does not exist
If my thoughts are not yet heard
And if no one wants to hear it
I guess an “American” is absurd
You’re gullible and illiterate
A “happy” life is not there
The truth is left unsaid
In reality they don’t care
As long as they have a house
and car, and looks much more than good
They will never care about you
It was implied you understood
There are bigger things in life
than the numbers you pursue
Whether it’s the money or the grade
All of it will fade
The day death will come for you.
I wrote this poem to portray the corruption in our government. When we vote for people and expect them to do things for us, and then come to find out that these representatives were looking out for themselves and not the community or country as a whole, it hurts. So this is my message to them, and I want the people in Congress to take a look at this and reply. I want them to explain to me why they tell us they’ll fix problems with this country, the laws, the systems, and ways of running this nation, but they never do. I want them to explain to me why Immigration reform has been kept on that agenda for five years now, when the issue was supposed to be resolved three years ago. Money leads to greed, and that greed needs to go if we want to proceed and succeed in becoming a better nation.
Spoken Word Poetry – Michael Indemaio
I could never be a poet, a manipulator of words. But I do enjoy watching poetry spoken, far more than reading it. My friend’s brother, Michael Indemaio, is a poetry writer whose written poetry books and gone to many poetry slams. My friend would read me his poems, or have me read them, and they were beautiful poems, but it wasn’t until I heard them out loud did I understand it’s beauty. The YouTube Clip attached is of Michael Indemaio reading his poetry, and is one of my favorites. I haven’t heard him say this live, but I think it’s a wonderful, heart-felt poem, especially since I know a lot of his personal history. I’ve never asked him his process in preparing for his shows, which I would be interested in, but I have seen him write poetry (for Twitter, he has a huge fan base) and I find his process of brainstorming and editing down to be quite similar to what I do, yet his end results are far more artistic.
I personally enjoy spoken word poetry because it allows me to understand poetry greater than if I were to read it on my own. Each word when spoken has a transformation of meaning and elicits far more emotion than if I were to read it in my head. Usually, when I start reading a poem, I start off in my own voice, and it is not until the end that the author’s tone seeps in and I begin to understand the message. However, when hearing it out load, the tone is set from the beginning, allowing me to understand what the author meant by certain phrases. Specifically in this spoken word poem, Michael Indemaio changes his speed of voice, allowing some parts to show his troubled, fast paced mind, while slowing down on other parts, allowing words and phrases to soak in. The tone and nonverbal communication also adds to its significance, as the grief and madness in his face gives the poem an extremely emotional quality, one I would not imagine if reading it to myself and in my head.
