Post by Avatre on Dec 7, 2004 17:25:29 GMT -5
Slam poem- meant to be performed, not read, so if it looks funny read it out loud. The repeating of phrases give it emphasis and rhythym. Inspired by a very good friend of mine...long distance runners are amazing.
Angel on Foot
A blur on the side of the road; the corner of my eye
My head turns, barely my own decision, but yet
There’s something about him, something about him that draws the eye
Maybe it’s the blond curly hair, blond and curly sticks out like
A hawk in the middle of rabbits
Maybe it’s because that hawk soars as the rabbits go by in their fancy cars
Like me, in a fancy car, watching that hawk
Watching him run
Every day, every single day he runs, he runs far
I see him every day, he has no boundaries to keep him in
And sometimes, I will wonder, where is he running to? Where is he running from?
And as I watch him, I think, watching him will sometimes bring someone closer
He is my someone closer, someone who I watch
And he gets closer
A fascination I cannot hope to begin to explain
Something there, something in that hawk, and his wings
Those wings which carry him from cloud to cloud
Taking the thermals; grabbing the air and forcing it to make him faster
Make him fast-make him good-make him awesome
Grab people by their attentions make them watch
Like I’m watching, my attention is grabbed
His feet strike the ground in thuds
But a lightness none other can achieve-a soaring
The wind weaves its fingers into his hair, his clothes
I wouldn’t be surprised
If he could blow past the breeze, out-run the wind
But his pace is steady and his heart is brave
I can see that blissful look upon his face; his heart is ignorant-but brave
Sometimes, I think, he can run to his dreams if he runs long enough
If he runs long enough
All the way to his hopes, wishes, and all that he strives for
He runs to feel all that he can touch
What he can’t touch; the intangible grasped
The high, the excitement
The peace
Sometimes, I imagine, he runs from home
A change from the parents trying to live through him
Trying, trying so hard to relive their lives, through him
But he runs-runs from what they say is his destiny, his future
But if you see the mischievous glint in his eyes
The sparkle that winks from swirls of rabbits and these people who don’t care
You’ll know he’s running towards his future
Towards what he wants and what he yearns for
And sometimes, I think, and sometimes I worry, and sometimes I think, he’s leaving us all behind
Leaving us all behind
Leaving us…behind
Angel on Foot
A blur on the side of the road; the corner of my eye
My head turns, barely my own decision, but yet
There’s something about him, something about him that draws the eye
Maybe it’s the blond curly hair, blond and curly sticks out like
A hawk in the middle of rabbits
Maybe it’s because that hawk soars as the rabbits go by in their fancy cars
Like me, in a fancy car, watching that hawk
Watching him run
Every day, every single day he runs, he runs far
I see him every day, he has no boundaries to keep him in
And sometimes, I will wonder, where is he running to? Where is he running from?
And as I watch him, I think, watching him will sometimes bring someone closer
He is my someone closer, someone who I watch
And he gets closer
A fascination I cannot hope to begin to explain
Something there, something in that hawk, and his wings
Those wings which carry him from cloud to cloud
Taking the thermals; grabbing the air and forcing it to make him faster
Make him fast-make him good-make him awesome
Grab people by their attentions make them watch
Like I’m watching, my attention is grabbed
His feet strike the ground in thuds
But a lightness none other can achieve-a soaring
The wind weaves its fingers into his hair, his clothes
I wouldn’t be surprised
If he could blow past the breeze, out-run the wind
But his pace is steady and his heart is brave
I can see that blissful look upon his face; his heart is ignorant-but brave
Sometimes, I think, he can run to his dreams if he runs long enough
If he runs long enough
All the way to his hopes, wishes, and all that he strives for
He runs to feel all that he can touch
What he can’t touch; the intangible grasped
The high, the excitement
The peace
Sometimes, I imagine, he runs from home
A change from the parents trying to live through him
Trying, trying so hard to relive their lives, through him
But he runs-runs from what they say is his destiny, his future
But if you see the mischievous glint in his eyes
The sparkle that winks from swirls of rabbits and these people who don’t care
You’ll know he’s running towards his future
Towards what he wants and what he yearns for
And sometimes, I think, and sometimes I worry, and sometimes I think, he’s leaving us all behind
Leaving us all behind
Leaving us…behind
