Tag: spoken word

Some People Stay Briefly

Some people…

teach you how to smile

when you had forgotten

how to smile.

Some people…

don’t teach you to cry.

You just see them crying.

And somehow

you learn.

Some people hold your hand

and leave

too soon.

It’s alright.

If they held me any longer

they wouldn’t have reached

their destination.

Some people come and ask,

“Are you alright?”

And while you are explaining

what happened…

they are already

walking away,

turning into

distance.

Some people praise

how good you look,

and in the same breath

they want something from you.

Their compliments

are hooks.

Your story stays hidden.

They only read

the cover

of your book.

Some people inspire you

to build a rocket,

to leave the ground,

to touch space…

And the very next day

they change direction

because a cat

crossed their path.

Some people invite you

with such a warm smile

you feel like leaving with them.

But when you arrive

their minds are crowded.

Locked.

No space to sit.

So much clutter.

So much chatter.

Words melting,

like butter…

but saying

nothing.

And some people…

never say anything.

They stay distant.

Smile from a corner.

Pray for you.

They never come too close.

You won’t remember them,

because they never ask

for anything.

Except one call

when you are not well.

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The Smile of a Century

They said…

me and your aura don’t match.

I said,

okay.

And just like that,

we didn’t argue.

We didn’t beg.

We didn’t fight the universe.

We moved on.

Not because they said so,

but because we understood each other

so well

that staying

would have been disrespect.

Some understandings

don’t come with explanations.

They come with goodbyes.

A new chapter waits.

The new year stands nearby,

holding a red carpet.

No…

we are not celebrities.

But we have self-respect.

We know we are valued.

I respect your decision.

You stood up from the chair.

You kissed me

like it was your final line.

You waved goodbye

the way people do

when they already know

they won’t return.

Still…

I dream of crossing your path someday.

And I will smile at you.

Not asking

for a smile back.

Not soon.

Maybe months.

Maybe years.

Maybe so many years

or never again.

Thank you

for the memory.

Because maybe,

at the very end of my life,

I will be touching a frame

where two souls are smiling.

And I will whisper to myself…

That…

was the smile of a century.

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Negotiating With Aliens About the Price of a Heart

You all are sold,

the aliens told me.

I said, “At what cost will you buy me?”

Aliens said,

“More than any bank can offer.”

I said, “Is it a loan?”

“No real money.”

Me: So what should I do with it?

“Do whatever you want.”

Me: What if I need

something more than money?

Aliens: What do you want?

Me: Leave your spaceship to me.

They went back to their spaceship,

silently,

without a word.

Hope they’re having a meeting about it.

If love could be bought at a discount,

and hearts could be sold,

how would I get rid of my bike

that’s grown too old?

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Before We Arrive

You can’t kill us anymore.

You’ve already slaughtered thousands of souls.

Your hands are stained,

soaked in the blood of the innocent.

No soap can wash it off.

No water remembers you kindly.

Tell me.

What did you gain from their deaths?

What more do you want?

Was stealing from the taxpayer not enough?

Still clinging to that chair,

still pressing your weight into it?

Will you leave it…

or must we tear you loose?

We watched you through 2G.

3G.

4G.

5G.

Now we are Gen-Z.

And we don’t want you anymore.

This same Gen-Z

can be Zen.

Calm.

Good.

Peaceful.

But this same Gen-Z

can become a storm

if you keep pushing.

Did you think you could silence us?

That bullets could bury our voices?

No.

Cowards.

Big cowards.

Your days are done.

Pack your bags.

Go wherever you want.

Go now.

Before we arrive.

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Letting Go of What Never Held Me

I say I’ll come.

Then I say I won’t.

But one thing is true:

my pockets are full of things I never meant to carry.

The words I hear feel heavy.

Lunch today is nothing.

Someone is ready to fight.

Fine. Let them.

People talk and talk

and keep saying they’re fine,

but everything around them feels off.

So let it out.

Tell me,

what’s hurting you today?

Close your eyes tight

and maybe everything softens for a moment.

Suddenly I’m in a desert,

dry, silent, endless.

Where do you even go

to look for water here?

Come on, climb the camel.

You think you’re cool now.

But it’s burning hot.

You say you need coolness.

I say you need ice cream.

I try to shout it,

but the heat steals my voice.

Here

your foundation cream.

Funny how you slipped on your own dream

while trying to look steady.

A small light flickers far away,

like something trying to reach me

but losing strength.

The lights fade

dim… dim… dim…

as if they’re tired of shining for everyone else.

So I brush it aside,

quiet and certain,

the same way you finally let go

of something that never once held you in return.

Don’t call.

That’s the end.

I’m done for today.

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Would You Jump for Humanity? | A Powerful Spoken Word Poem

They asked me,

why don’t you jump from skyscrapers

for the sake of humanity?

I looked at their hands

still warm with coffee,

still steady with comfort

and I said,

I would jump from a mountain

if the fall could shake humanity

so hard

that its tremors

traveled through generations

through cradles,

through graves,

through the bones of tomorrow.

The sound I would become

not a scream,

a bang

would send ripples

through the ribs of the cosmos.

You would all be swallowed

by that echo,

only to be returned

as humans with no destination,

no hunger for meaning,

no memory of kindness

alive,

but emptied of love.

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If I Was a Dreamer | Spoken Word That Hits the Heart

And I ask myself

I can still dream, can’t I?

If I was a dreamer,

I would dream of a time traveler

not one who changes wars or deletes history…

but one who simply comes, sits beside you,

talks for five minutes,

smiles once,

and leaves behind a sentence so powerful

it quietly rewrites your entire life.

If I was a dreamer,

I would see AI and humans

walking side by side

not as masters and machines,

not as watchers and watched

but as silent helpers,

never stealing privacy,

never touching destiny without permission.

If I was a dreamer….

I would see Mr. Bean

enter my dental clinic,

panicking… not for himself

but for his teddy.

“Doctor, only one tooth… please.”

And somehow

the world would feel lighter that day.

If I was a dreamer,

I would go back to my college days…

stand in front of my tutor…

and finally say the words

my fear swallowed every day:

“You are beautiful.”

Maybe ask for a coffee.

Not as a fantasy

but as a human being with trembling courage.

But I was quiet then.

My confidence

was still learning how to breathe.

If I was a dreamer…

I would speak to my school crush tonight and say:

Please…

don’t visit my dreams anymore.

Your presence turns sleep into addiction.

I wake up craving

what I can never touch again.

So stay where you belong

safe inside memory.

Don’t shake the nights

I’m trying to heal.

And maybe…

maybe I am a dreamer.

Because even after everything,

I still believe a soft thought

can change a loud world.

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One Night to Prove – A Spoken Word Cinematic Monologue

They said

“You’re selected.”

Two words.

Heavy enough to shake my whole tomorrow.

Ten a.m.

Shooting set.

No rehearsals.

No second chances.

Just…

one night to prove I belong.

I asked,

“From tomorrow…?”

They didn’t hesitate.

Deadlines never do.

Dreams don’t wait either.

I checked my watch

five p.m.

Time looked back at me like,

What are you going to do with the rest of your fear?

Scooty starts.

Evening flies past my face.

Streetlights flicker like nervous thoughts.

Home opens its quiet mouth.

I wash the dust off my skin,

but not the doubt.

The script shakes in my hands.

Not because it’s heavy

because I am.

Words spill.

Fall.

Climb back into my mouth again.

On the bed.

Across the room.

In front of the mirror

I meet a stranger

who looks exactly like me…

and I practice becoming him.

Then one line stops me.

Just one.

It doesn’t feel like dialogue.

It feels like truth wearing quotation marks.

I look into my own eyes and say

“Only magic can turn copper into gold,

and gold into diamond…

but love and affection

they are magic themselves.

They don’t just change things…

they change the world.”

The room goes silent.

Even my fear listens.

Tomorrow is waiting.

Ten a.m. is closer than it sounds.

And tonight

Tonight,

I am not just memorizing lines.

I am memorizing

who I need to become.

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Positive Events – A Spoken Word Poem on Life, Balance & Self-Acceptance

What positive events have taken place in your life over the past year?

Things are alright.

Yeah…

Things are alright.

A lot of positive events happened this year.

First of all

I grew a legendary belly.

Not a normal belly.

A seasonal belly.

A football-in-the-soccer-season belly.

Thank God nobody tried to kick me into success.

No goals were scored with my existence.

These days I don’t walk uphill too confidently…

And I definitely don’t stand too close to cliff edges.

Not because I’m scared of falling

But because

what if I start rolling with confidence?

Strangely…

It became a positive thing.

People don’t bump into me randomly anymore.

They calculate first.

They care.

They think about consequences.

Even a hippopotamus once came to me,

Put a medal on my chest,

And whispered

“My friends are fitter than you.”

I still don’t know if that was an insult

Or a spiritual achievement.

Then I met a mystic.

He told me

“Relax. Don’t worry about the future.”

Then he added very casually…

“The secret path to heaven is first to die.”

He almost enlightened me.

Almost.

One of my feet is still in the material world…

The other is trying to pay rent in the spiritual.

Balancing this boat is not easy.

But I try.

Because I can’t leave spirituality for possessions.

And I can’t abandon possessions

Just to become invisible.

Balance…

That’s the yoga I practice daily.

Another positive thing

I found a place where I can live peacefully

With my dear one.

Yes, I watch emotional drama daily.

Matinee show.

Evening show.

Sometimes midnight reruns.

But it’s real.

Raw.

Unedited.

It feels like I never left the theatre.

Only my role keeps changing

Sometimes actor.

Sometimes audience.

Sometimes only… witness.

I’m learning everything now

Pauses.

Breathing.

Timing.

Chewing techniques.

Speaking without breaking reality.

And then…

The biggest positive shift:

I stopped checking the mirror

For permission.

I stopped asking people

“How do I look?”

Now the confirmation comes from inside.

Wear what is cozy.

Be clean.

Be kind.

And ignore the unnecessary noise of spectators

Who are not even on the stage.

If something is comfortable,

People shouldn’t become detectives.

That’s not rebellion.

That’s rest.

What else?

I can’t say I met an alien last night

Who came in a spaceship

And brought me a Christmas jumper.

But who knows…

Next time it might arrive as Santa.

So if you ever see a strange vehicle in the sky

Please keep it secret.

You might receive sweets.

And maybe…

The last positive thing this year

I got the chance

To share my words

With you.

May your days be filled

With quiet strength,

Soft madness,

And honest kindness.

Thank you.

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Golden Casket: A Brutal Spoken-Word Poem on Power, Wealth, and Death

It’s always the same story.

Everyone hears it.

No one admits it.

You are not alone, my brother.

You raise a skyscraper

with a snap of your fingers

but you never built

a single room of mercy

inside your heart.

You wear authority like armor.

You baptize greed as power.

You name the disease “success.”

Where are you going like this?

Time will outlive your name.

Earth will equalize your weight.

You and I

we meet again

as dust.

You’ll say

“I won’t rot in ordinary wood.

I’ll sleep wrapped in gold,

buried beneath applause.”

Tell me

what soil will accept you?

What fire will recognize your rank?

Brother

I will take your

Mini Cooper.

The mountain does not answer.

The lake does not applaud.

The window only reflects

a man

running out of language.

Take the key.

Your words broke something

I thought was permanent.

I own more cars than memories.

Choose one.

And come back.

You speak the language

my money never learned.

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