2017 Annual Emerging Poets Slam

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I am made for sweat, Toil is my life. The break of day my call. Twilight finds my back bent over the crops.   The savannah, my playground
The door is open – Come, look inside I have everything to show And nothing to hide, The pretty bedspread with flowers The sweet fragrance in the air The warm sunlight shining through the window
I am the granddaughter of an Imam, The daughter of an Imam’s daughter And a businessman. She who knotted together all ends And sewed a smile on her face Is my mother. A strong, independent lady
they call us magical  cus we stay when things seem to get a little tragical  we seem to always be protecting our men  cus when we have no more left in us to do what's right, they become our pen 
We the people live in a stereotypical society  That tells us the people what we need be Blacks are thought to be thugs While Muslims and immigrants are terrorist
Temples are quiet places for forbidden kisses, for moments in which the world does not exist, but is collapsing, as if the giant holding us up decides to let us fall, as if no gods can reach us.  
I exist to please. But I must breathe, inhale and exhale, only the sharp cold air that compresses me out, that cages me in.   What do I see? Nothing, but I long for more.
My hand shakes as I reach for the door. I can barely keep myself standing upon this floor. I turn the knob, ever so carefully. And open the door successfully. I walk in and look all around.
Hey there old friend. Maybe friend isn’t the correct term, so allow me to rephrase. Hello old habit. You and me were best friends. We were the Thelma and Louise of our time and yes we flew over the cliff and plunged into the abyss.
CIRCLES              Time to be honest with myself When I hit the ceiling with these thoughts in my head I am falling sick again
Sleep. It's something I never seem to get enough of. I don't have insomnia, nightmares, or a bed made of rock, But I still never seem to get enough. High school seems like the easiest thing to blame,
   everyone loves a gentle rain   the quiet it brings 
   All I am to you is a cigarette  You used me this whole time All you did was feed me lies I burned up right in front of you You sat in silence enjoying the view  
 My thoughts are so deafening I’m surprised you can't hear them My mouth is deceiving and I wish I couldn't move it
Dear, the Most Merciful I saw the devil today In the scars on my body I saw God today He asked me for what I am fighting
Heaven Aram Tawoosi Your love is as clear as the Caribbean You are the crimson Phoenix inside my soul Love me until my breath disintegrates
Love is the light in the dark Love is to open one's heart It fills your soul- -makes it hard to breathe It hurts Love It's you It goes deeper than the sea Farther than this life
I Am More Shadow Than Man Aram Tawoosi He is sinking as I continue thinking about how He's got the devil around me
Unholy Aram Tawoosi   Free falling from the sky to your bed How did I get here? Your silhouette drilled into my head
Welcome to high school, where you’ll spit acid out your stomach onto the floor and dry heave over the sink.
I won’t tell you that i am trapped in a body that isn’t mine that i was born in the wrong body because whether i have a chest or a dick this body is mine   this body is mine and always will be mine
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