"macklemore" poems
This is one American that drops beats, not bombs
This is one American that admits when she’s wrong.
But an ocean doesn’t divide us
Only you divide us
With your words for labels that say what’s you, not me
Your stereotypes are gunna be the death of me
You’re killing me with these close-minded philosophies
And Who the hell ever said you were the referee of me?
We gotta spend less time sneering and swearing
We gotta spend less time jeering and tearing
You should never have to defend when you love
You should never have to defend why you love
You should never have to defend who you love
We are all created equal;
That’s the condition of the receiver
And we are all the receivers
But some keep spewing that hate; those hate-believers
But we don’t accept their judgment upon us
We gotta rise up out of adversity placed on us
Some out there will go to their graves justifying
Committing acts based on fear is nothing but mortifying
And I’m gunna be truthful; I’m not even lying
When your preach your ******** the human race is dying.
You see United this house stands strong
Every new hand we hold pushes us along
Every brick makes us higher
Acceptance makes us flyer
Gotta keep hate out of your heart
And maybe then we’ll get to start
To come together
To love one another
And to be free like it is intended
Maybe then the human race will be mended
Maybe then this bad movie will get a better sequel
Maybe then we’ll realize We are all created equal.
I want to stop it all
To go into a free-for-all
To rip those signs apart
To take that hate from that heart
All I can do is spread the word on love
And hope to God that will be enough
All I can do is be me and let you be you
All I can do is all I can do
But together we can appreciate
That all together we can officiate
Love that knows no bounds
That type of harmony with unreal sounds.
We may measure success by what’s published
We may measure it by what’s re-said
By how much money we make
By the course that we take
But one thing I know that will bring us deliverance
All that matters is that one voice that says
You make a ******* difference.
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
this girls got it down
when she stomps on the ground
the whole town
looks around
"say what"
what
what
what
(no thanks, macklemore)
when she flips her hair,
and it's in dee air
the boys all go
"heyyoo"
and shout the whole dayyo
caz look here allison
i know you like peanut butter cookies
and your percy jackson bookies
and singin' josh groban
like (you gotta be jokin')
really girl,
you think you got it goin'!
you inspired me
and to climb up in this tree
and write this poem
just so i could show em
that i can take it
as well as dish it
and girl
you the best roommate
you got the best traits
even though you keep me up
caz you be watching 30 rock
and wearing my fav pair of socks
but that okay
caz with you girl, every day
is a par-tay
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 8:18 PM UTC
******* white people;
hide their racism behind
vapid "opinion".
******* white folks will
argue you can't argue with
results and numbers
because white people
can strip race from the issue
and swear it's "equal".
White people without
culture or identity,
strip it from others.
Call you naked as
they strut in stolen clothing.
Full of silicone.
**** with white people,
find out they know the struggle
by the article.
They can sweat big stuff,
but their racism is in
the cracks and seeping.
Disappointingly,
you can't trust white people for
**** not even me.
Not Bush, not Clinton,
Donald Trump, Bernie Sanders,
******* Macklemore,
Not Bill O'Reilly,
and not Jon Stewart, and not
viral feminists/
white feminism,
Taylor Swift's white sisterhood,
their artists, music,
writers, poetry,
actors, authors, painters and
sculptors and bloggers,
their politicians,
obviously, but also
their lawyers, doctors,
their engineers and
scientists and businesses,
economists or
pastors, preachers, religion,
programmers, products,
video games and novels;
They will let you down.
The rich or the poor,
it really doesn't matter.
They will let you down.
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 1:53 PM UTC
When you approached me,
I was smoking a cigarette
listening to Macklemore
outside my favorite coffeeshop
in the rainy city
You said something,
but I didn't hear you,
so I removed my headphones
as you asked
"Could you help a veteran out
by giving him a cigarette?"
I said yes,
asked you where you had fought
you told me Saigon
"Oh yeah? Vietnam."
you looked at me
dressed in a coat
that was a color of blue
not found in nature
face of canyons
and told me
"We got those ******* good.
We did.
We got those ******* good.
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
and you walked away.
I was stuck in a trance of
What the **** was that
and yeah,
we did get them
but I don't know if I'd lay down
Agent Orange
and call it "good"
Take Civil and Guerrilla warfare
and try to tie it next to butterflies
and welfare checks
I don't know
what you think is good
But me?
I can't find any other words
for 1.9 to 3.9 million casualties
in a war that should never have been fought
Than sad
and wrong
I wonder how many Vietnamese women
gave birth to half American babies
That they never wanted
that didn't even desire to participate
in the act
of child making
I wonder how many
Loved their children anyway
how many were honest with them
how many of those children burnt that odd color of blue
that should never exist in nature
But then again
neither should the bombs children are still unearthing
in the North
and South of Vietnam
I want to know how many of their parents
learned that American
is another word for a ************
How many of these parents
grew up telling their children
never trust an American
until you know where his gun is pointed
because he's always got it pointing somewhere
I want to know
If you would understand
where Saigon, now ** Chi Minh city
is on a map
if you had never fought there
Would you be on the streets of Portland
alone
asking a college kid
who was not alive
when you fought in Southeast Asia
for a cigarette
I wonder where are you going?
How many people did you ****
how many are you sorry
for killing?
and then I realize I really don't want to know.
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 12:43 AM UTC
patterns reflect patterns reflect history repeating itself
I see problems in humanity because humanity corrupts
seriously, we can't have a movement for "better" without making it worse
listen, slavery, right?
whites hated blacks
deemed them lesser
deemed them nobodies, nonexistent
that's putting it generic
so what do we have now?
an era of white-haters!
so many "minorities" standing up and saying
"I hate the whites"
we have done a 360 and it kills me
it was supposed to be about blacks being seen as equals
being seen as people instead of blacks
and now, yeah, I'm going there
gays
I love gays, man
but y'all are killing me too
this is what I see
gays oppressed, dismissed, told they're sinners
unholy, bad, gross, wrong, backwards, ugh
they were beaten, bloodied, bruised, murdered, silenced
so the gays stand up
what do I hear?
"I hate Christians"
"I hate straights"
"I hate everyone who is not gay"
people hating on macklemore because
he tried to stand up
for THE PEOPLE!
they say
"a straight white man cannot represent the gay community"
I'm sorry
WHAT????
we act like no one has gone through HARDSHIP
we act like if you're white, straight, and a male, you're golden
free
happy
perfect
wake up.
what no one discusses
is that the issue is right vs wrong
right vs wrong
right vs wrong
I'm not a straight white male but I know right vs wrong
I'm not an Irish Jew but I know right vs wrong
I'm not a Haitian Creole Indian goddess but I know right vs wrong
you don't have to BE the oppression to SPEAK on the oppression
you have to know right vs wrong
I say macklemore knows
I know
you know
let's speak up
what is wrong is discrimination
what is right is taking a stand to end it
so please
blacks,
gays,
minorities,
whites,
humans,
majorities,
stop obliterating good
or else you'll be confined to the chains of oppression and silence until the day you die and so on amen
I'm a human being
tell me what I cannot speak on
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
I know so many people, who love the same ***
And hec I've been asked out by one over text.
I don't like the same *** but I support them,
Every one should be able to love, and put on a wedding gem.
They are the people who make our world different, in the best way it can possibly be,
I hate the world being normal, maybe now the people will see.
That loving the same *** is just as normal as loving opposite,
Now, maybe this poem will make you more confident.
If your gay and reading this, I want to just say,
I'm proud of you, you are still a person just like the rest of us, may your sky never be grey.
We are all the same, we have fingers, hands, brains, muscles and skin,
So then loving the same *** shouldent be a sin.
Love, and be yourself,
Your not a ***** object" that belongs on a self.
Your a human being like the rest of us,
You have the right to love and express.
Always remember,
Hold this when you start back in September.
Your loved, your human,
There may not have been an Adam and Steve, but your loved, if love is locked up its inhuman.
Now go out, and find your love,
Go now, be free like a dove.
It's should automatically be a right,
See? He supports it.
"I might not be the same, but that's not important
No freedom till we're equal, **** right I support it"
- Macklemore
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 1:20 AM UTC
When people bound you down,
when things look dull,
when your face is devoid of laughter,
kick some ***
dance your *** off.
dance and sing..
sing and dance your soul out..
dance like it is your life..
dance like your soul is hooked to it..
**
when people tell you
that it can't be done..
show them the finger and
tell them they you can kick some ***
may be you ill fail..
may be you will fall..
but tthat moment when you kick
the society in the face...
that's the moment...
Listen to music this world has given to you..
Listen to the energy inside you.
Listen to what it is saying..
listen to Queen..
listen to Beethoven..
listen to Macklemore...
inspire yourself..
inspire from the creative energy
creative energy of these creative souls..
kick some ***
Seriously.
Nobody has the power to bring you down.
Nobody.Nothing.Not even time.
Not even God.
Not your parents..
Not the ******* society..
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 1:02 PM UTC
7/11/13
All my numbers are aligned.
We make taco runs in the ghetto by that Elmood sign.
Silly.
Drive an hour, love for three
You wouldn't believe it
if you where there with me.
Jealousy comes in like an X on an 18.
Waste of time, energy and emotional fiend.
He never stays this way long.
11 minuites at best.
Can't wait to be somewhere.
Get some ******* rest.
New day. Woken by the happy kisses of a giant rotwieller.
Something sad in me made the love pour outta her.
She wants me here.
They both do.
I want them too.
I want something new.
Saw u today.
U told me u hated me.
Told me u all do.
What do u want me to say to you?
Blame me. Didn't even say hey to me.
Someone should blame me
since I know better than to now.
Its not about me.
I just want you to HEAR me.
But how?
I'm better off how I am now
you'll see
I wish I could tell you I love you, dad
don't yell at me, dad
I've never done anything to you, dad
Stop screaming. Don't push me.
I won't push back.
Theres That struggle again.
Somewhere between agape and justice.
Neon Cathedrials guide my way from city to street.
The home is real. Find it for me.
Create it if need be.
Macklemore says the licqor store stays open later than the churches and ****
Ain't that the truth.
Someone save me, help me, anymore I've got nothing to lose.
Staying with old friends,
Some good
Some bad
All stuggling.
Man.
That struggle is sad.
All around us.
You and I.
You find that beauty. You stay #skyhigh.
And as I sit here. Tear stained, hungry and bruised...
I feel hopeful
Not used.
I can be better.
Came out of your shadow brighter.
How much more will love endure?
It was always too dark through childhood to see too clear.
Maybe
Just maybe
We are all to blame.
Save me.
You know what else
Someone once said.
"Fathers be good to your daughters. Daughters will love like you do"
You remember that guy?
Yeah, me too.
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 3:05 PM UTC
Love is love,
it’s not that complicated,
Love does not care what color or *** you or your love is,
because Love is all inclusive it doesn’t discriminate,
Love is colorblind,
Love Sees No Color Love wears Cross Colours jumpers,
Love is abundant, just ask Russell Simmons or Gloria Carter,
or her baby Jay Z or anyone else who is an authentic Lover,
Love is unconditional & it’s available to everyone,
regardless of class social status religion region or color,
it’s okay to feel good, smile you deserve it,
dedicate yourself to love, believe me it’s worth it,
you get what you give so give 100%,
remember to forget & forgive them, even if they’re not perfect,
because no person walking this earth’s surface is,
but you can still find yourself a good girlfriend or boyfriend,
as long as you’re willing to work with them,
& you two can still be your own version of Bonnie & Clyde,
can still be in love & serve them with services,
there’s wisdom in these verses here,
modern day scriptures for gangstas & hipsters,
they don’t call him LaLux or J-Hova for nothing,
no fronting true strength requires no crutches or addictions,
just enough Dedication as Lil Wayne to get to 10,000 hours,
as laid out well by Macklemore or Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers,
a Master of Self a ******* from Hell,
***** as hell but he cleans up well
I own all my Master,
you should probably own yours as well,
well,
the floods are coming, there’s some prophecy for you,
either ride the Tidal wave or get washed straight away,
washing the straight leg green jeans clean so there’s no proof,
only proof is us see our success & ourselves are Self Evident,
only witness God won’t testify against our business interest,
the evidence is obvious see we are all sovereign entities,
you are your own country so you are your own president,
a one person army a one person president,
who roams the whole globe everywhere’s their residence,
channelling these visions into verses of the present tense,
told you before I’m not a business man I’m a business, man...
Smile is continued in THHT3...
∆ LaLux ∆
an excerpt from poem #24 of
THHT3: The Hollywood Hills Trilogy 3
available on Amazon here:
www.amazon.com/dp/1950780023
If you've read this far I'd like to show my appreciation by buying you a copy of THHT3 from Amazon myself, seriously, for free. Just send me a Message here or on IG @aaronlaux
Sep 23, 2019
Sep 23, 2019 at 9:14 PM UTC
Shes grown up in a world where your name is everything. So she played everything, & gave it her everything. When that money came in she saved everything for college not knowing she would get a scholarship. But she is smart, smart as if she is but a descendant of Einstein, And I look up to her cause im short and compared to me she is sky high but she is 6,3 and beautiful a goddess *3 to me. She plays ball like her daddys twin was scotty pippen and he tolder put her hands on the ball and boom they traded powers like mike.. like mike and when i would tell her ik someone who plays better she would tell me im trippin. Cause she never missed a practice she only wanted to get greater. And when she dunked for the first time ever she went home on some macklemore **** like "i touched the net mom i touched the net" it was the best day of her life. And shes been running all her life from miles to around the basketball court. God **** now the army what else do you want to accomplish. What are you running from young girl them legs... them legs all them **** legs big girl dont stop now dont give up brown eyes.cause In this world ill be jenny and your forest gump run run forrest run.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 2:22 PM UTC
"A life lived for art is never
a life wasted,"
that's what Macklemore
and Ryan Lewis
told us.
Those of us in recovery
need this to be true.
Those of us?
--all of us--
because we are all artists,
placing pieces of our broken
lives into a mosaic,
a cathedral floor frieze,
something we build
to walk on, a
snapshot of past agonies
and beautiful memories
that lifts us out of
the ***** Earth.
A true artist manufactures
their own hope.
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
I hated the way our relationship began with a text
I hate the way it ended with me wishing you the best
I hate the way you only shop in a thrift store
Like you were Macklemore
I hate the way you avoid my eyes
and I hate the way he lies
I hate the way you clawed your way in
I hate the way you gave a truth a great spin
I hate the giant sigh you let out
and I hate the way you doubt me
I hate the way you made me something new
something made just for you
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
If the streets could talk they’d tell me to come back to them, that I need them, I’m truthfully not “better off without” them.
If I could respond to the streets I’d say I don’t need you. This is my battle and I’m at rock bottom. I can only go up, and as I go up… I will no longer see you because I’m twelve hundred percent sure that I am better off without you. I don’t need to be high to fulfill the darkest parts of my soul. I don’t need to be high to be happy, content, or musically talented. It isn’t aesthetic. It’s not aesthetic. It. Is. Not. Aesthetic.
If the streets could talk they’d say **** you for becoming sober. That’s the worst choice you could’ve made in years. That decision is worse than trying to **** yourself. See the streets would rather see you dead from addiction, as opposed to becoming sober.
Well, **** you for making me want to become sober. **** you for making me want to die. And honestly, ***** you for everything you’ve torn from me. From sending me to jail as a tiny seventeen-year-old to making me off myself a good 4 times just ‘cause I couldn’t find drugs.
The streets would even go as far as to say: “rip everyone off, do bunches of drugs, leave everyone dry around you, and call it a day. Then sleep the high off, and next time you have an appointment, come to it high. #YOLO”
Y’anno what? YOLO is one ******** phrase. I live once, you’re right, Mr.Streets. But I want to be sober the majority of this living. I’m 18 and a half and have so much further to go in life. I want to become an addictions art therapist and I want to be at Zoe and Eden’s weddings. I want so much in life. None of which concerns the streets.
“Don’t listen to that cliche music, says the streets. Y’anno? That Macklemore **** that’s all about becoming clean? Eminem? Nah. None of that. You listen to music that glorifies drugs.” says the streets.
Also, if it takes listening to “Starting Over” by Macklemore 20 times a day and Dave’s Song by Whitney another 30 times a day, I’ll do it. Because at least I’ll be sober. Singing is something that brings me utter joy. As is writing and painting. And in order to do my best. I need to be pretty **** sober.
“No cigarettes do not count as addiction. Want to know what does? Buying pills with your disability checks. Now that ***** ******* great. **** you for trying to get clean.” the streets say.
Bro. I’m bro-ing to you because we’ve reached that point of nonsense. You don’t get it, do you? I need to not spend my minimal money on drugs. Yes, cigarettes are a drug. I’ll get there with quitting those too. Instead of drugging myself up, I need to dye my hair, watch slam poetry, and sing. Sing. sing. Sing. Sing until my heart is full and complete.
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 11:29 AM UTC
this is not another Macklemore song, though I know you don't
mind him at all, and his songs reminds me of you.
this is my thing for you, cause I love you, you love me too, and that's
new to me. but I promised myself, that whatever I do, whoever I'll
''like'', you're not allowed to write that you're in love with someone because then you're getting married and we're not, ever again, it can't be someone 3000 miles away, because those people who lives 3000 ******* miles away, breaks your heart, and my heart can't be broken again. then I'll break.
I think you're romantic, and I will keep comparing you to the other girls, 3000 ******* miles away, because they were not. they were stone cold. I swear you could cut yourself on them. and I did. I have so many ugly scars.
you're also still just a child, with too many silly dreams, and you think you know what you are. I'm old, supposed to be wise, and I still don't know what I am, yet, and I'll never figure it out, when young girls, like you, keeps stealing my heart.
(e.k.j.)
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 10:58 AM UTC
Tonight, when I found myself in the bad place again,
I wrapped up in my blanket, grabbed the healing rock and my headphones
and went outside to the porch, and rocked…
feeling the cool air on my face,
listening to Macklemore’s song, “Starting Over”...
crying (but not sobbing),
trying to just breathe.
But then I started thinking about how the bad place leaves,
and then there is a moment, just a moment, of relief,
and then the bad place comes back…
and I started to think,
“Is this all there is? Is it ever going to get better?”
And that’s when the voice inside of me told me that she couldn’t do it any longer…
couldn’t hurt any more, it was too much,
and she was way too tired to fight the darkness anymore.
She took over my mind, I couldn’t fight her, and like a caterpillar eating a leaf, she began to eat away at the coherent part of my brain…she is now in control, she controls us, her decisions rule, I cannot fight her.
She went inside and locked herself in the bathroom.
The fighting began again…
the little girl was shaking, and rocking and crying,
afraid in the dark, afraid of what was going to happen
but unable to stop it.
She sobbed and begged for the strong one to help her,
to hold her, to come back.
But then another voice, the one who has had more than enough of this pain,
the one who sees no way out grabbed the razor blade and held it tightly.
And it was so loud, the arguing, the crying, the pleading, the begging…
the little girl, so scared,
sitting on the cold tile, curled into a ball, rocking and crying…
the hopeless one, holding the razor blade, wanting to cut.
And me, watching this girl from above…
as she struggled…
holding the blade to her wrist as the little girl fought to live,
shaking in her fear, crying out for the strong one to come to her,
to hold her, to comfort her.
Eventually, the struggle ended without bloodshed…
and I found myself sitting on the cold bathroom tile,
with a razor blade in my left hand,
poised at the artery on my right wrist,
shaking, and crying, and rocking myself...
they must have fought until they wore themselves out...
and physically and mentally exhausted,
I picked myself up, put the razor blade away,
wiped my face, and crawled into bed.
I’m doing everything I can right now. And I need to know when it will get better? I hurt every day. And tonight, I curl up in my bed, wrapped in a blanket…feeling the darkness fall upon me. It will get better soon, right? Because it’s not that late here and I feel it…and it hurts…
Please, sit with me tonight?
Because I am small and frightened….
Please? Sit with me and hold me…
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
I heard you die twice,
once when they bury you in the grave
and the second time is the last time
that somebody mentions your name
- Glorious, Macklemore Ft. Skylar Grey
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 9:33 AM UTC
Same love
A world so hateful, some would rather die than be who they are
As Macklemore sang each line
That's how I felt chills roll down my spine
How can we be so advanced but not have love to share for others that are
Not like us.
Whether a girl chooses to be with a girl, or a boy loves another of his own
I stay amazed at how people are so content with making sure
That same *** couples know they're not wanted.
They're so content with making humans feel less worthy
Because they prefer their own to the opposite ***
To make their brothers and sisters and their flesh and blood
Feel less of a human being because of who they love.
So content to prove yourself as a human by forcing onto the rules of the Bible
Yet ignoring where it says you need to love your neighbour as you love yourself.
Love yourself.
We are taught to love ourselves but how can we ever love ourself
When from the minute we are born
We are judged over everything
The food we eat, the clothes we wear, the music we like, the pictures we paint
We are judged for the way we see the world, for the way we think
We are judged for the way we live.
So how can we love ourself when from the day we are born are told
And folded
Into what others think we should be
And never given a chance to be who we are destined to be.
Love your neighbour as you love yourself.
But how can you love someone else, when you were never given a chance
To love yourself.
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC