
[Music]
[Applause]
we slide our feet like wheelchairs and
pulsate our bodies like withdraw tremors
the dancers ask me okey know why do you
like krump it just looks so violent and
I say nah
krumping is not about dishing out
violence it is about reclaiming what is
rightfully yours you see I move my legs
like wheelchairs because I bet my uncle
tater would have been a great dancer i
polls say my body like a withdrawal
tremor so my feel vile can’t have a good
night’s sleep for once the only time I’m
ever able to shoulder the weight of my
family’s history on my back is when I am
light on my feet sha you see my hands
they only resemble my grandfather’s when
they are rolled into a fissile I krump
to forgive machista ideals to make sure
that the music stays warmer than the
blood that dripped from my Grandmama’s
lip to make sure that my family history
stays just that because if anybody knows
anything about krump it’s my mother
you see krump is the feeling she had in
her stomach as its child watching her
father wail on his own wife like a
djembe as if he ever had anything worth
communicating we dance to be louder than
those who try to silence us but you
cannot muffle soul we pound our chest
like animals because the inner city
caged us we’ve launched our arms like
antlers and call it getting buck we
dance for the children who never had a
shooting star to wish on so instead they
took a gun to class we danced to give
praise to whatever it is we believe in
and I believe I will never be anything
like my grandfather who’s the only time
I have my hand in a fist is to grab hold
of the bass and the treble to make sure
that I am higher than this to make sure
that I am better than this
so to anybody who claims krumping looks
too violent you obviously don’t know
about fighting demons so tell the
DJ to drop the beat like a 34 year
sentence for domestic violence and I’ll
be more than happy to show you the
poetry of my last name
[Applause]
most days I am unaware that the son
finds home in my mouth a redwood in my
spiny I have a hurricane in my gaze I
posture I feel like my fear has already
written my story tells of doubt and
isolation i impersonate Swan but I’m
ruthless stampede carp cliffside words
into the mountain from my family but
only say their name once a week my title
as a son crumbling in my hand we are
taught never to think too highly of
ourselves so we muzzle our esteem I no
doubt is a dam that cycles my pulse flow
I am timid tongue and Crucified
self-esteem with barriers for friends
the mountain idles out so no one can
find me is where I lost myself it’s
instinctual to distance myself from my
triumph I feel silly worrying over small
ripples instead of the waterfalls I
carved into mountain I’ve walked off
stage more focused on one dropped line
and my own victory over my stage fright
or the courage to share a piece of
spirit they tell me I’m strong that I
say the words they cannot Oh wave that
weaves into Bair’s loud and all the body
parts they keep quiet I can cower all I
walk and lessen any day a few words
speak softly I can act fragile but I am
still ocean my people’s lyrics lullaby
me agua is my task open wide my jaw and
release them break the jail cell of
clenched teeth and heavy throats my self
doubt is sediment left undisturbed for
years when every time I complete a poem
I rode the island of doubt they don’t
tell you the power of water
a fragile landy how easily it can turn
to salt so soluble in your greatness I
am learning to see my triumph as mine as
rain Springs I dug training riverbeds
two tribes rain cycles to redemption who
else can take credit for my storm for
all of this glory this is my earthquake
I rip apart the coast to open the river
let the mouth speak let the earth wash
away the sediments no more wondering if
I am deserving
in luxury I am broken open full typhoon
greatness
[Applause]
[Music]
you
[Music]
you
[Music]
it was beautiful like flames shall sang
in the sky
I couldn’t tell when one began and the
other ended they call it murmuration but
it’s meditation the group so in tune
with each other they share the same
struggle spilling over each other like
paint they colored the stage night black
it was like watching the maestro’s hand
I can still remember it it was all
breathing but there was no time to
inhale organized made him a never-ending
swirl of lips and body they were all
feelings and feathers a collective
dancer moving to the rhythm bell in from
between their rib cages and fingers
let’s explore mudslide anatomical force
as graceful as an ocean moving to the
only Trump they can never take from us
we were a moment of people a movement
[Music]
[Music]
[Applause]
[Applause]
we slide our feet like wheelchairs and
pulsate our bodies like withdraw tremors
the dancers ask me okey know why do you
like krump it just looks so violent and
I say nah
krumping is not about dishing out
violence it is about reclaiming what is
rightfully yours you see I move my legs
like wheelchairs because I bet my uncle
tater would have been a great dancer i
polls say my body like a withdrawal
tremor so my feel vile can’t have a good
night’s sleep for once the only time I’m
ever able to shoulder the weight of my
family’s history on my back is when I am
light on my feet sha you see my hands
they only resemble my grandfather’s when
they are rolled into a fissile I krump
to forgive machista ideals to make sure
that the music stays warmer than the
blood that dripped from my Grandmama’s
lip to make sure that my family history
stays just that because if anybody knows
anything about krump it’s my mother
you see krump is the feeling she had in
her stomach as its child watching her
father wail on his own wife like a
djembe as if he ever had anything worth
communicating we dance to be louder than
those who try to silence us but you
cannot muffle soul we pound our chest
like animals because the inner city
caged us we’ve launched our arms like
antlers and call it getting buck we
dance for the children who never had a
shooting star to wish on so instead they
took a gun to class we danced to give
praise to whatever it is we believe in
and I believe I will never be anything
like my grandfather who’s the only time
I have my hand in a fist is to grab hold
of the bass and the treble to make sure
that I am higher than this to make sure
that I am better than this
so to anybody who claims krumping looks
too violent you obviously don’t know
about fighting demons so tell the
DJ to drop the beat like a 34 year
sentence for domestic violence and I’ll
be more than happy to show you the
poetry of my last name
[Applause]
most days I am unaware that the son
finds home in my mouth a redwood in my
spiny I have a hurricane in my gaze I
posture I feel like my fear has already
written my story tells of doubt and
isolation i impersonate Swan but I’m
ruthless stampede carp cliffside words
into the mountain from my family but
only say their name once a week my title
as a son crumbling in my hand we are
taught never to think too highly of
ourselves so we muzzle our esteem I no
doubt is a dam that cycles my pulse flow
I am timid tongue and Crucified
self-esteem with barriers for friends
the mountain idles out so no one can
find me is where I lost myself it’s
instinctual to distance myself from my
triumph I feel silly worrying over small
ripples instead of the waterfalls I
carved into mountain I’ve walked off
stage more focused on one dropped line
and my own victory over my stage fright
or the courage to share a piece of
spirit they tell me I’m strong that I
say the words they cannot Oh wave that
weaves into Bair’s loud and all the body
parts they keep quiet I can cower all I
walk and lessen any day a few words
speak softly I can act fragile but I am
still ocean my people’s lyrics lullaby
me agua is my task open wide my jaw and
release them break the jail cell of
clenched teeth and heavy throats my self
doubt is sediment left undisturbed for
years when every time I complete a poem
I rode the island of doubt they don’t
tell you the power of water
a fragile landy how easily it can turn
to salt so soluble in your greatness I
am learning to see my triumph as mine as
rain Springs I dug training riverbeds
two tribes rain cycles to redemption who
else can take credit for my storm for
all of this glory this is my earthquake
I rip apart the coast to open the river
let the mouth speak let the earth wash
away the sediments no more wondering if
I am deserving
in luxury I am broken open full typhoon
greatness
[Applause]
[Music]
you
[Music]
you
[Music]
it was beautiful like flames shall sang
in the sky
I couldn’t tell when one began and the
other ended they call it murmuration but
it’s meditation the group so in tune
with each other they share the same
struggle spilling over each other like
paint they colored the stage night black
it was like watching the maestro’s hand
I can still remember it it was all
breathing but there was no time to
inhale organized made him a never-ending
swirl of lips and body they were all
feelings and feathers a collective
dancer moving to the rhythm bell in from
between their rib cages and fingers
let’s explore mudslide anatomical force
as graceful as an ocean moving to the
only Trump they can never take from us
we were a moment of people a movement
[Music]
[Music]
[Applause]
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