Can you feel the stage



Can yall feel that,
Hmm, no?
You may have felt it when other poets were here,
See some were being a little flirty, some were getting a little sturdy,
And well you know my ass is coming up here to be little nerdy,
Maybe a little bit dirty,
But I know you feel it, because I feel the tremors of past artists leaving glimmers,
I feel the tips and the taps,
The belly filled laughs,
The hips and the hops,
The r’s and the b’s,
And the ukuleles,
I can even feel that rhythm that's got you shaking your knees,
We stand here making sure every moment is seized,
Because there’s just something special about being the duality between a flower and weed,
Ian Emberson wrote
A weed is just a flower that's in the wrong place, a flower is just a weed thats in the right place,
Well right now… I’m in the right time and space and I’m filling up my vase with flowers that have come before me on this stage,
This is a place of majesty where people get to express their travesties, and bring out their creativity,
I mean hell we’ve even got someone spitting about being a bike,
Where else can you get that kind of shit on a mic,
And see that’s where we all get to feel alike,
We all have different traumas that we can choose to see as a blessing or a curse,
Because trauma, is just trauma,
Until it becomes art,
until it becomes the fuel to the fire you spin your words around,
Until it shows you how to become the keeper of the flame,
And control it in a way that makes a beautiful sound,
O2 finding embers to flow to,
 combusting into percussion of light, sight, and might
That’s what I appreciate about this stage, and all the platforms in which newfound creation resounds,
Have any of you seen the experiment with a room full of tuning forks,
It confirmed they we all ring a different tune, until eventually, something resonates,
Something shakes and moves and feels like it was a predestined fate,
Water fills the room til everyone reaches their flow state,
Sometimes this stage can shake and bake and break down the context and make your soul quake,
Until all that's left are feelings that vibrate, spirit that reverberates,
Movements flow freely, flexible, full and floating, like an invertebrate,
And you can feel the ripples of emotion the moment they propagate,
Aspiration to be an inspiration perpetuates,
And life be lifing while circumstances fluctuate,
But we still make it, we still make it up the steps to this stage,
We still climb each rung of the ladder to reach our poetic platter,
Our blood will splatter, teeth will shatter, I got chills thats multiplying,
when I'm ready to let go that shit will scatter!
Impact you with an atomic matter,
Where when you get home,
you might think that you actually matter,
You might be the next one waiting in the wings,
Coming up to the plate to hit the grand slam,
Turning it into a bloodsport like jaun-claude van damm,
Forcing everyone to break open that emotional dam,
And DAYUM,
It feels so good to just get it all out, get some hugs, feel the heart tugs,
Going home to my bed, letting the experience of the night tuck me in,
Scare away the bed bugs and mmmm I sleep snug and sound,
Then I wake up the next day, not necessarily hoping for more trauma,
Just hoping I can be more prepared for it,
To let it flow through rather than compartmentalize my thoughts in a way that only hurts me more,
Poets, Artists, performers, and everyone thats willing to come to the mic,
And give our souls some flight,
I can feel it,
And YOU MATTER,

About this poem

This poem was used at a slam recently and is an appreciation to my fellow artists that i always perform with and watch, as well as all the artists that come to that same stage to share their art.

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Written on May 15, 2024

Submitted by poetic.impact on June 10, 2024

3:32 min read
106

Quick analysis:

Scheme Text too long
Closest metre Iambic heptameter
Characters 3,499
Words 705
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 63

Nathan Cook

Published Poet of book called : Poetic Impact Vol 1 more…

All Nathan Cook poems | Nathan Cook Books

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