Emi Mahmoud - The Colors We Ascribe
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- Опубліковано 8 жов 2024
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Emi Mahmoud, performing at NPS 2015 in Oakland, CA.
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Button Poetry is committed to developing a coherent and effective system of production, distribution, promotion and fundraising for spoken word and performance poetry.
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"I wish this skin would've come with instructions." this poem is absolutely beautiful, but so accurate that it is almost hard to listen to. much love
"I can never forget how much death loves my people." Amazing
I this one was one of the most painfull ones I heard in this Channel. Or anywhere else.
There was so much emotion, so much pain... I hope everyone could hear this piece of art and reality.
"I can't tell you what death looks like, but when he came, he stayed" Didn't realise i was crying untill the poem was finished. this is just so sad.
You know a poem is amazing when you keep going back to it and get revelations every time. wow, just wow
This also brings me to tears incredible "I can't tell you what death looks like but when he came he stayed"
this is one of the most beautiful and powerful poems I have ever heard
Absolutely incredible. Poetry can tell so much in so little time. Praying for a saner world.
She has a lovely voice
Every once in a while i listen to all of Emi’s work and i am in awe every single time
This made me cry, its so sad and beautiful!
One day your hear the greatest slam poem ever and nothing after it is as great. Your words reach bones my dear not just the goosebumps of my skin, peace from Algeria ♥
Wow. An amazing poet and a beautiful person. I doubt I can even try to understand the pain you must experience, but I wish the best for you and your family.
Even the worst of my days cannot even begin to compare to what she has experienced. All in the name of power and control. Here it is 2018, and you would think we should have learned our lesson by now! If only it were that simple. I send love to you in hope that yours and your family's situation has improved.
This is the only poem that made me tear up, it hit so close to home and you can almost hear the pain in her words 💔
So painful, beautiful, and inspirational. The melancholy of this poem is so strong and lingering.
I love this poet and I just discovered her. wish I could reach out to her.
So perfectly written and performed yet so painful!
these poems are good reminders
she's actually ridiculous! like seriously i'm in owe. wow
back again and wow
This made me cry; beautiful. Just beautiful.
Her poetry captures my soul
Beautiful
"𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝" This line hits different as we now know that S. Sudan is war-stricken now. Ethiopians too.
Most parts in Africa now are unstable.
Daughters and Sons of colour are having it rough, very.
People of colour let's get united in one mission "to make us better."
I can't tell you what death looks like.. Man this poem was powerful ✨
This is so so painful. Beautiful words. I hope they brought you some release in writing them.
beautiful and so much emotion
The power in words, incredible
Beautiful.
This poem was so powerful
Painful...Brilliant.
Brilliant!
Hmk.😳😳😳😳so much pain in this poem. Preach sister
🙌🏾
So much pain...
نفتخر بأنك من السودان أصلا (دارفوريه ميه الميه ) .. قووود لاك سيستا
Golden words
من أجمل ما سمعت
I wish this skin had come with instructions...man
Wow...
painful but so nice.
Amazing sister....keep going
Where can i find the transcript for this
This slaps
I got goosebumps
متعك الله بالصحة والعافية دارفور بلدنا
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️❤️🔥
woooooofff that was fucking monstrous
Can anybody tell me where I can get the lyrics of this poem ?? please ??????
I've actually compiled them. I can email them to you if you'd like?
@Sadia M
Hi! Would it be alright if I asked for the lyrics?
I wish this skin came with instructions.......wow!!!!!
can you help me with the full lyrics ?please :'(
+Abdullah Uthman
Our ancestors built our bodies from soil in the creases of their hands.
We were loyal, not to the men in our lives, but to the desert clay in our bones.
This is who we were: Fire wrapped in faded skin
Children of grandmothers, mothers of kings
Until the day our brethren fell
When the last breath is taken, flesh turns
The colors of life that leave the body are the names we ascribe to our fears
We see rainbows everywhere.
The irony of fire is that your eyes go last.
Long after you can no longer feel it sting, you can still see it burn.
In death, all our eyes are gray.
They mimic the hues of smoke that dance across the sky.
There are no instructions for dealing with death.
When the militia open fire in Al-Fashir, we saw gold stars fall from the sky
Land on every cornerstone until the buildings began to melt
They poured lead from a broken chalice
Silver kerosene
Crimson flames
Ivory when the sun hits bone at high noon
Burgundy when blood dries
It chips as if it is trying to escape back into a body.I can never forget how much death loves my people.
The way they fall asleep at its feet
Burgundy blankets, burgundy pillows, but our tears are colorless
There is no hue to shade this pain
Eleven days ago, two more bullets crossed off two more faces from my family tree
They were fourteen, they were studying
The blood-soaked arithmetic pages are still sitting on the mantle
My uncle won’t throw them away
I can’t tell you what death looks like
But when he came, he stayed
We held one funeral for two brothers
The misshapen grooves of one’s body bend the light so their caskets were closed
Coffins made heavy by the weight of two bullets
My brother is thirteen
Learning to carry our dead
His legs buckle under the weight of his pedigree
My father says, “You think this is hard? Try carrying the living.”
And we never pay gravediggers anymore
Now the soil feels so familiar under my hands
I’ve gathered enough to build a body, but I’m afraid of what I’ll make
I’m afraid to write this bloodline into something that I’ll love
This pain is encoded
Our genes come to fruition on our skin
It isn’t burgundy, it’s black
And I wake up every morning wondering when it will happen to me
I want to spill every color from this form
I want to leave a canvas sinking with the weight of my pedigree
I want to be able to look at a sunrise and not see my entire family falling to pieces
I wish this skin had come with instructions
When the last breath is taken, flesh turns
And for the past eleven days I’ve seen rainbows everywhere
+Abdullah Uthman can you translate it please ??
+ife ♡ can you translate it to arabic
what does she mean by the last line? " for the past eleven days, I've seen rainbows everywhere"
first
i couldn't even listen to this .. idk
skaterboy12ify
i don't think there's anything wrong with me .. why would there be something wrong with me ?
+Hayley Babin Why couldn't you listen to it? What is it that put you off this amazing poem?
Random Default
it was hard to listen to, i mean.
the things she talked about were very hard to accept. it was great, just chilling.
I actually would feel the same way. The topic just seems so painful, yknow? Ive heard this a couple of times already but I just try not to think about it too much or else I'll start sobbing. Emi Mahmoud's poems just do that to people.
Wow.