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we all vibrate. our hearts, veins, neurons— molecules of heat. there are profound pulses palpating in us— we can never truly be still.   can anything?
It amazes me how some people are able to make their bodies move,  And how they work countless hours in an empty studio to try and improve. 
one sliding foot draws the lines of the melody the toes curling in passion and fury the muscles rippling and tensing up the calf  
Can you see Oh’ Can you see What are you looking at What do you see Can you see Oh’ Can you see What are you thinking What do you see Can you see Oh’ Can you see What’s happening right now What do you see Can you see Can you see What do you see Lo
I hear a roaring in the walls at night, I believe it is the pipes Or maybe the furnace screaming to let it catch our home on fire I imagine the roaring to be the outcry of us, pure hatred
Once upon a time When knights in armor shined There waited a young princess Who had many hobbies and interests Yet at the very thought of marriage, she felt herself grow distant  
I miss the form. The elegant beauty of the landscape. That's what I'll call it, The landscape   It was like a landscape Long and lean, tended to Graceful and wind blown  
Of the many things wrong, I find this one to have a grip on me, strong We need reform Let us perform A societal change Refute the strange
All my lifeI have never owned my own suitcase.   Every family trip or vacation I borrowed from my mother or even my father, in order to stow my belongings for the road ahead.  
Tonight was never meant to end in a murderous fiasco of hate and pain.  I crouch by the bathroom sink in order to preserve what was left of my dignity and desperation. With each shriek of the gun I crouch lower, lower, lower until my tummy reaches
  Make me busy. Engorge the lazy, shiftless minutes of my waking hours with thoughtless labor. Make me work, make me eat, make me work again, until the sun goes down.
Growing up I was insecure and had a lot of fears, Coming from a city that was build on music and cars Eventually being deprived and ruined by the men in the city. To me its like i was the city, I was Detroit!
Movement is bliss By exchanging a touch between you and the floor You have experienced a connection   A connection between you and the world A connection between you and your desires
Corruption uses those faces Beautiful faces Have control in reality and illusion Spawning death everywhere   We need those pretty faces That inspire and hypnotize
veined ovals lean against the hose with small puddles, guests: though one more a guest than the other   towards that end, and treading amongst the surface she plays the Body living, breathing spinning
You better believe you gotta misread all the signs, they ain't faithful All the ladies, they ain't careful you gotta have time to get a dime this world, this life, all the strife Dams blowin up,
I wanna make things move 
At this very moment, my name is Tranquil.
To mourn death or celebrate life. We're always left with sullen strife. Life, the tunnel of consciousness. Death, the promising of mysteriousness.
Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick Time spent wasted
When I think of the night, I no longer feel afraid. Not sad nor angry, Just calm.   The night reminds me of us, At better times. When we would stare up into the great beyond,
He walks the streets looking for a way in or a way out Seeking a prize that he cannot find In the sky it cannot be seen, So he seeks the earth beneath his feet, Solid ground gives way beneath,
Life and death had a meeting when life was old, dying, and pleading. Death said hello with a grin, a dark greeting. Death looked at life and said, "welcome back you look different."
Did you know that if you stop and look,Open your eyes and take in the sight,That everything comes to light?The darkness,The loss,The despair,Loneliness.
I am the one the leaders should answer to, I am the one that began a nation, I am the one who fights, the one who dies, I am the one you depend on. I am the people!  
  In a mad rush of confusion they hide away In a simulation of warmth and safety they hide away The thoughts inside me weep with frustration and hide away because there is no way to sort them out today.  
  Be impatient. Feel like now is the time to change shit, Not rearrange it Or reframe it. Take it all down and make another, One for your sister, One for your brother.
numbness is what I feel most when I am alone. tears rarely streak across the flecked cream of my shell in solitude all the while
I'll hold you through the night. For hours, in everyday, in every week. Til It gets cold, alright. No words would be right Just hands to back, to get you geeked I'll hold you through the night.
In theory I never knew the weight of the hoodie. Contrast in its color as it grapes over my skin. Indeed I was mightier with the cape over my lens. Strolling pastimes, my ears were shuttled by noise.
  It’s the sound you hear in between The space that fills nothing Or the nothing that fills the space. Constant trace of thought Emotions stay unveiled. Catapulted thoughts drifting abound.
Innocence were their names   In a child's place they were to be Wrong place, wrong time Some would say to thee...   It was just another day Another day riddled with injustice, segregation
You enter a town where there's only two colorsWhite and Black; who do not even love each otherWhite folks side and Black folks sideYes, that's what they call itWhen one thought the segregation had diedIt took a few to restart itYou enter a town wi
Land of the freeLand of the apatheticLand of the dreamersLand of the broken Home of the braveHome of the hopefulHome of the better tomorrowHome of the bitter
Most of us say we need it, but do we truly believe it? We are in constant competition to win the prize: job positions, checks written; Don't look surprised.
Listening to the stories of others Like pages turning, examples of being told no That you can’t do it. You’re silly. Or crazy. Dream smaller. Safer What about that little girl Who sits in her college dorm
There's something lurking in our schools, That's far scarier than ghosts or gouls. It's sitting there stalking you, Waiting for the teacher's cue. One little hour is all it would take
I like to listen to music. The kind that blares and shakes the lights while you reach for the ceiling like it's the stars.
The hands that wrote that letter Sitting in that cell from Birmingham jail The hands that reached out and pushed against the ceiling of hate As it began to rise and slowly started to fall
I take another short breath, preparing for my death sentence. My fingers grasp the door, anxious, cold, and black. Through the glass window I see eyes that match
What a shame, how we all were treated before, False accusations, people judged the color of skin. Our potential, needs, and feelings were forgotten, ignored, Our worn and torn shoes, no one has thought to step in.
We were once a people. We taught together. We fought together, For freedom. Our people won. Black teachers, doctors, politicians. The sky was the limit. We were family. Daddy was always there.
Movements, they start off with people. Racism. Sexism. Prejudism. We live with 'em, Sit next to them on the bus. Glared at. Snared at, listen to them while they throw hate at, us.
I come from Sobbing sirens & broken traffic lights. Hangings in the daylight, Hooded figures breaking Bones, Bodies, Blacks.
“I have a dream,” he says. Dreams of justice, of children—both black and white—hand in hand, playing, dreams of freedom ringing through valleys and from mountaintops. Freedom. Where will he start?
Early in May our ride had begun, on May 4th,1961. The buses left Washington D.C. , and It wasn't what America wanted to see
They call to me yelling shouting jeering And this— not my name never never My Name— is all everything I have known. Eyes, pale eyes— follow glance slide past me.
The darkness closes in. The bag is tight around my face. Breathing is difficult. Fear is choking. The light floods in "We're free," they say. Votes, buses, bathrooms, parks; We can all share.
I am a product of the Earth, much like you. My people blossom in the motherland, soaking in the bright sun. Our vines weave around the rough terrain, entangling in each other We grow in these dense fields.
How could individuals that look SO different coincide with one another? They said the brown animal could never be called a brother. On August 28, 1968, two sides making up a quarter million marched as one number.
"And Justice for all" We say it everyday. They say it too They must, They do. But do they think of us of me, of you? No I dare say they do not. They only think of conserving
I do not wear the same skin as youbut our struggles, they are similar.You see, while you are outcastfor the way you look, the color of yourouter shell; I am turned away for whom I love.
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