M.C. Hammer

Without lights, wihout glamour

I'm that kid obsessed with M.C. Hammer

I stick to myself and emerse myself

In rhythms and beats

Beats so rhythmic they make your heart dance, your soul sway

They transport you to a different dimension

 

I'm not typical, tho

I can't make beats, no matter how hard I try

And believe me, Ive tried

Every instrument 

 

Cruising through drum upon violin, flute through trombone

I found something

 

Movement. Grace. 

Things that stirred emotion, just as music

Weeping, laughing, smiling, yelling 

All of it

 

Now

Dance videos I watch

Choreograph in my brain

But when I direct, it seems all in vain

It's stuck in my brain

The flicks, the glides, the jumps, bends, twists

The synch

 

In life there is no perfect unison

Nothing goes perfectly as planned

There is lots of discord and little harmony

But without certain clashes and moments of silence

Music cannot be

So just as my choreography

If you think of me, I am ideal

But in reality, I am far far from it.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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