Declamation Speech

Am I To Be Blamed?
Theyre chasing me, theyre chasing, no they must
not catch me, I have enough money now, yes
enough for my starving mother and brothers.
Please let me go, let me go home before you
imprisoned me. Very well, officers? take me to your
headquarters. Good morning captain! no captain,
you are mistaken, I was once a good girl, just like
the rest of you here. Just like any of your daughters.
But time was, when I was reared in slums. But we
lived honestly, we lived honestly in life.
My, father, mother, brothers, sisters and I. But then,
poverty enters the portals of our home. My father
became jobless, my mother got ill. The small
savings that my mother had kept for our expenses
were spent. All for our daily needs and her needed
medicine.
One night, my father went out, telling us that he
would come back in a few minutes with plenty of
foods and money, but that was the last time I saw
him. He went with another woman. If only I could
lay my hands on his neck I would wring it without
pain until he breaths no more.
If you were in my place, youll do it, wont you
Captain? What? you wont still believe in me?.
Come and Ill show you a dilapidated shanty by a
railroad.
Mother, mother Im home, mother? mother?!. There
Captain, see my dead mother. Captain? there are
tears in your eyes? now pack this stolen money and
return it to the owner.
What good would this do to my mother now? shes
already gone! Do you hear me? shes already gone.
Am I to be blamed for the things I have done?

planned on going.
But my plans didnt matter.

Spoken Word Poetry

When Love Arrives

But we found a park bench that fit us perfectly.

We found jokes that make us laugh.
Love is messier now.
Love is simple.

I knew exactly what Love looked like in 7th grade

Even though I hadnt met Love yet, if Love had
wandered into my home room I would have
recognized him at first glance Love wore a hemp
necklace.
I would have recognized her at first glance Love
wore a tight French braid.
Love played acoustic guitar, and knew all my
favorite Beatles songs.
Love wasnt afraid to ride the bus with me.
And I knew I just must be searching the wrong class
room, just must be checking the wrong hallway.
She was there, I was sure of it.
If only I could find him.
But when Love finally showed up she had a bull
cut!
He wore the same clothes every day for a week.
>3<
Love hated the bus.
Love didnt know anything about the Beatles.
Instead, every time I tried to kiss Love, our teeth got
in the way!!!
And Love grew.
Stretched like a trampoline.
Love changed.
Love disappeared, slowly, like baby teeth.
Loosing parts of me I thought I needed.
Love vanished.
Like an amateur magician everyone could see the
trapdoor but me.
Like a flat tire there were other places I had

But Love also cries;

And Love will tell you You are beautiful, and
mean it.
Over and over again.
You are beautiful.
When you first wake up, You are beautiful.
When youve just been crying, You are beautiful.
When you dont wanna hear it, You are beautiful.
When you dont believe it, You are beautiful.
When nobody else will tell you, You are
beautiful.
Love still thinks, You are beautiful.
But Love is not perfect and will sometimes forget.
When you need to hear it most, You are
beautiful.
Do not forget this.
Love is not who you were expecting.
Love is not what you can predict.
Maybe Love is in New York City already asleep.
You are in California, Australia, wide awake.
Maybe Love is always in the wrong time-zone.
Maybe Love is not ready for you.
Maybe you are not ready for Love.
Maybe Love stays. Maybe Love cant. Maybe
Love shouldnt.

Love arrives exactly when Love is supposed to

and Love leaves exactly when Love must.
When Love arrives, say, Welcome. Make yourself
comfortable.
If Love leaves, ask her to leave the door open
behind her.
Turn off the music. Listen to the quiet.
Whisper, Thank you for dropping by.

foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she
gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! -how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
III

Speech Chorale
The Bells
I
Hear the sledges with the bells Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody
foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically
wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
II
Hear the mellow wedding bells Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony

Hear the loud alarum bells Brazen bells!

What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency
tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the
fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and
frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now -now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of

the bells Of the bells,

Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
IV
Hear the tolling of the bells Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their
monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people -ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone They are neither man nor woman They are neither brute nor human -

They are Ghouls:

And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells,
Of the bells Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.