Discover and read the best of Twitter Threads about #spokenword
Most recents (13)
SONG THREAD:
Jalal Mansur Nuriddin was a poet & musician.
He was one of the founding members of The Last Poets. A group that evolved in the 1960s out of the Harlem Writers Workshop in NYC.
His word is bond...
Mankind Pt.1 (1993)
#1
#MusicIsLife #SpokenWord #RealTalk
Jalal Mansur Nuriddin was a poet & musician.
He was one of the founding members of The Last Poets. A group that evolved in the 1960s out of the Harlem Writers Workshop in NYC.
His word is bond...
Mankind Pt.1 (1993)
#1
#MusicIsLife #SpokenWord #RealTalk
Jalal Mansur Nuriddin - Mankind Pt.1 (1993)
🎶”Hyped up fantasizing, theorizing, idolizing en masse. Circumscribing and depriving ‘cause of money and class”🎶
#2
#MusicIsLife #SpokenWord #RealTalk
🎶”Hyped up fantasizing, theorizing, idolizing en masse. Circumscribing and depriving ‘cause of money and class”🎶
#2
#MusicIsLife #SpokenWord #RealTalk
Jalal Mansur Nuriddin - Mankind Pt.1 (1993)
“Killing every kind of man, you control and grab a hold of everybody’s land”
#3
#MusicIsLife #SpokenWord #RealTalk
“Killing every kind of man, you control and grab a hold of everybody’s land”
#3
#MusicIsLife #SpokenWord #RealTalk
1/3 Let’s try out
my first spoken word
They call me a warrior. They call me a fighter
I listen to them but again I know deep in my heart I’m just a learner.
A life learner or someone who tries to understand how the ocean form.
When I sit alone. I think deep that I want to
my first spoken word
They call me a warrior. They call me a fighter
I listen to them but again I know deep in my heart I’m just a learner.
A life learner or someone who tries to understand how the ocean form.
When I sit alone. I think deep that I want to
Stop a time that’s moving fast.
I learned the velocity has rules so do the life of a single man like me.
Impossible is a word they told me to stay away. I listened but again that self packed with Chinese spirit has told me not.
I resist and she resisted back
I learned the velocity has rules so do the life of a single man like me.
Impossible is a word they told me to stay away. I listened but again that self packed with Chinese spirit has told me not.
I resist and she resisted back
I know this is nothing more than a family matter where you are parenting and raising.
I know I’m stubborn. Maybe that’s why they called me a warrior. My father knew me this too. Life needs a warrior that can take punch in face, risk for sometimes. I accept
@threadreaderapp
I know I’m stubborn. Maybe that’s why they called me a warrior. My father knew me this too. Life needs a warrior that can take punch in face, risk for sometimes. I accept
@threadreaderapp
#poetry
Friction Field
The wind, on this blue night,
is howling like a banshee,
sad voices carried on it.
It's the kind of night
when all your sorrows
come back to haunt you.
Friction Field
The wind, on this blue night,
is howling like a banshee,
sad voices carried on it.
It's the kind of night
when all your sorrows
come back to haunt you.
The electricity in the air
is a palpable thing,
an element so strong
your skin prickles
with the unrelenting
friction of those atoms.
I feel you especially.
Your presence swirls
in those atoms,
rubbing relentlessly
across my skin,
across my soul.
is a palpable thing,
an element so strong
your skin prickles
with the unrelenting
friction of those atoms.
I feel you especially.
Your presence swirls
in those atoms,
rubbing relentlessly
across my skin,
across my soul.
I won’t sleep tonight,
not as long as that wind persists.
I’ll lie in bed like a prisoner in a cell.
And carried by that wind,
your electrical arms embrace me.
© 2012 RC deWinter
Published in IndiesScribe, November 2013
#Art: Evening Wind, Edward Hopper 1921
not as long as that wind persists.
I’ll lie in bed like a prisoner in a cell.
And carried by that wind,
your electrical arms embrace me.
© 2012 RC deWinter
Published in IndiesScribe, November 2013
#Art: Evening Wind, Edward Hopper 1921
We need to come together to come up with a solution to this problem
Aunty Colleen Wall on the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples: un.org/development/de…
Queensland Human Rights Act 2019: qhrc.qld.gov.au/your-rights/fo…
#Pacesetters:
Aunty Colleen Wall on the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples: un.org/development/de…
Queensland Human Rights Act 2019: qhrc.qld.gov.au/your-rights/fo…
#Pacesetters:
Today is about truth-telling, storytelling and listening.
- Yvette Walker, Artistic director of BlackBleep Productions, producing partner of today's event
#Pacesetters QLD LIVE:
- Yvette Walker, Artistic director of BlackBleep Productions, producing partner of today's event
#Pacesetters QLD LIVE:
We set the terms of engagement...It's time for you to walk behind us...For years, you have sat in the seats of power.
- Nadine McDonald-Dowd, Executive Producer @QPAC on Indigenous power.
#Pacesetters LIVE:
- Nadine McDonald-Dowd, Executive Producer @QPAC on Indigenous power.
#Pacesetters LIVE:
My weekly poetry continues on @Medium! Chek it!
omniblu.medium.com/journeys-pain-…
#Poetry #Poems #PoetsLife #WritersCommunity #WritingCommunity
#AmWriting #Writing #TheArtOfPoetry #WritersLife
#makesomenoise
omniblu.medium.com/journeys-pain-…
#Poetry #Poems #PoetsLife #WritersCommunity #WritingCommunity
#AmWriting #Writing #TheArtOfPoetry #WritersLife
#makesomenoise
#poetry
Prom Sunday
Spiraling downdowndown roundroundround as the wheel turns
relentlessly across the vast indifference of the cosmos,
a lone small voice calls out in the chaos:
The time, the time! What TIME is it?
Prom Sunday
Spiraling downdowndown roundroundround as the wheel turns
relentlessly across the vast indifference of the cosmos,
a lone small voice calls out in the chaos:
The time, the time! What TIME is it?
Is it time to splash across the firmament in a gaudy crescendo of color,
unmistakable and wild,
or is it time to be stone, mosscovered, unremarkable except for the
solidity?
unmistakable and wild,
or is it time to be stone, mosscovered, unremarkable except for the
solidity?
Who is entering through the revolving door – who is heading out to where
no one can see the end of all the light there ever was?
Is there time enough to live without regret, or have there been so many wrongs
that nothing we can ever do will right them?
no one can see the end of all the light there ever was?
Is there time enough to live without regret, or have there been so many wrongs
that nothing we can ever do will right them?
#poetry
Uranium Daughter
I am the product of decay.
The inevitable radioactive breakdown that occurs silently
as the cosmos whirls through the silent blackness
of space and time has produced me:
the uranium daughter.
Uranium Daughter
I am the product of decay.
The inevitable radioactive breakdown that occurs silently
as the cosmos whirls through the silent blackness
of space and time has produced me:
the uranium daughter.
I am the basest form of my mother,
I am heavy and mute and poisonous to the unwary.
My leaden reality is the final degradation in the long unknowable
history of creation.
There is no further evolution possible for me:
I am what I am.
I am heavy and mute and poisonous to the unwary.
My leaden reality is the final degradation in the long unknowable
history of creation.
There is no further evolution possible for me:
I am what I am.
Nothing man can do can change me.
I am here forever in my present incarnation.
You can step around me,
you can shield yourself from my reality
with rose-colored lenses,
you can remake my image into false idols
that allow you to sleep at night,
but I am the uranium daughter.
I am here forever in my present incarnation.
You can step around me,
you can shield yourself from my reality
with rose-colored lenses,
you can remake my image into false idols
that allow you to sleep at night,
but I am the uranium daughter.
Things about me I do not apologize for:
-I use a lot of words
-I take up a lot of space
-I am "too much" for many
-I don't stay neatly within boxes
-I do not accept others' labels or definitions
-I have emotions sometimes
-Other times I communicate very factually & directly
-I use a lot of words
-I take up a lot of space
-I am "too much" for many
-I don't stay neatly within boxes
-I do not accept others' labels or definitions
-I have emotions sometimes
-Other times I communicate very factually & directly
But I balance it out with rainbows, unicorns, and butterflies.
And, no, it is not selfish because, first of all, in a world where women, especially woman of color, especially Black women, are not taking up enough space, have not had their contributions recognized, not had voices heard, not had labor paid...then what is "too much" anyhow?
It’s #WorldSpaceWeek! @CityClassroom & 60 young people at #FolvilleJunior & @CatherineJunio5 in Leicester have been exploring @spacecentre. Here's the amazing #poem they wrote w/ @SpozPoet inspired by Space & Truth. Artwork: @Wickedlander #WSW2019 #NationalPoetryDay THREAD: 1/30
My amazing superstar friend is putting together her 2nd show this summer!☀️ I cannot prepare you for the incredible #spokenword talent you’re gonna catch at this event. Find more info on Instagram at wordspoken.toronto & buy tickets via the link in the bio. #spokenwordpoetry
My friend, @MmeAsante , is a talented spoken word artist herself & runs a spoken word club for elementary school students. She is a passionate teacher and critical thinker, & her students are very lucky to have her. Come out to support her advocacy & love!💖🌈👌🏼🗣
#poetryslam
#poetryslam
#poetry #poet #art #brampton #chinguacousypark
Go to this link to buy event tickets: eventbrite.ca/e/2nd-annual-w…
Go to this link to buy event tickets: eventbrite.ca/e/2nd-annual-w…
#poetry
#NationalPoetryMonth
My Last Canvas
Tonight I'm tired to the bone, wasted from too little sleep
and the same amount of love.
It's difficult to keep life in perspective.
#NationalPoetryMonth
My Last Canvas
Tonight I'm tired to the bone, wasted from too little sleep
and the same amount of love.
It's difficult to keep life in perspective.
The looming unfamiliar, so easily dismissed during daylight hours,
hunches menacingly right over there, occasionally giving out
a short sharp bark of what must pass for laughter in its tribe.
hunches menacingly right over there, occasionally giving out
a short sharp bark of what must pass for laughter in its tribe.
Undaunted, I stare into its face,
searching those pitiless features for some clue
to its intent, its content, its torment.
There it waits, mostly silent, daring me to walk right up and own it.
searching those pitiless features for some clue
to its intent, its content, its torment.
There it waits, mostly silent, daring me to walk right up and own it.
I want to create a thread of poems. Anyone interested in joining in? #Poetry #Poem #poetrycommunity #Friday #SpokenWord #artists
Self Pity.
A dusty path,
But there are cleaner routes,
Yet, you chose to be soiled with earth,
Standing mocked before elites,
Your confidence muffled by a swathe of flies,
Your nose piling up unused water that dripped down your jaw.
You chose to be robbed of choice.
A dusty path,
But there are cleaner routes,
Yet, you chose to be soiled with earth,
Standing mocked before elites,
Your confidence muffled by a swathe of flies,
Your nose piling up unused water that dripped down your jaw.
You chose to be robbed of choice.
Ambiguity
The mother of errors,
Always unknown,
Muddling right in a wrongful way,
Pointing evil in an unstoppable direction,
It never meant harm,
But brings blood to the table,
How did it nestle all alone?
Waving to no-one in motion?
The mother of errors,
Always unknown,
Muddling right in a wrongful way,
Pointing evil in an unstoppable direction,
It never meant harm,
But brings blood to the table,
How did it nestle all alone?
Waving to no-one in motion?
#poetry
at the barre
i live life en pointe these days,
always poised for the next wave,
alert, with nostrils open,
sniffing for the swift salt tide incoming
how i cling to that bright barre
because i know i’ll need
its safety, its sure clamping
to the wall of what is real
at the barre
i live life en pointe these days,
always poised for the next wave,
alert, with nostrils open,
sniffing for the swift salt tide incoming
how i cling to that bright barre
because i know i’ll need
its safety, its sure clamping
to the wall of what is real
if i let go i will be washed away
to those deep currents
from which there is no rescue,
my spirit willing but my arms too weak
how ill-equipped am i
after decades of bought courage
i have no coin remaining with which
to buy another swimmer for to save me
to those deep currents
from which there is no rescue,
my spirit willing but my arms too weak
how ill-equipped am i
after decades of bought courage
i have no coin remaining with which
to buy another swimmer for to save me
and though i’ve tried repeatedly
to buff my soul and body
to withstand whatever’s coming
it has, even now, all been for naught
to buff my soul and body
to withstand whatever’s coming
it has, even now, all been for naught
