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Showing stories tagged with #street-performance Clear filter
#acrostic Something I see, a pogo-stick Pick it up and bounce Right up through the street In front of the neighbors i flounce Never ever stopping Get my butt in gear Time to do some tricks If i fall...
First Blog-type post. Just came into Little Rock, where I am going to actually go meet another user here on Opuss, named @muhkickass and probably have some nice Starbucks and a chat.
A kaleidoscope of colour. She was easy to see. She was at a festival. Standing under a tree. She didn't like the music. It wasn't her scene. She was sick of all the guys. Who seemed too keen.
"Your dad will be here soon." My mum said, which I knew, before grinning. "He wants us to wait for him somewhere." I nodded. The day was quiet, peaceful.
#colourchallenge Lined in rows from 5th street to Main, Feet scrape the pavement and fidget in vain, Glimmering colors that cut through the snow, Come in, be seated, you're in for a show.
'But there's a guy down the street who keeps staring at us. Over there see. He might give us a pound or something if we're lucky'. She sighs and looks tired for a moment.
It. We are so busking it. 'I reckon we can make at least double what she did' Ava says confidently. 'All those people have been stopping to look at us.
Are you sure this is working. I mutter as Ava puffs her way through the final chorus of yellow submarine. She finishes with a flourish and a smile. Trouble is I don't.
My Bright pink shirt hugs my waist, my light skinny jeans keeping me warm. My SnapBack hat sits on top of my head, my eyes looking through my purple sunglasses.
Three blue men Bald blue men See how they drum Hear how they thrum They're making percussion on plastic pipes A fantastic explosion of sound and light Mostly in colour some black and white These...
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ ☆ Will Rhyme for☆ /\.../\" ☆ Food. ☆ >( •ω • )< ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ ( (,,_ ,,) ) Oh dear ... iPuss is sat on a fence holding up a sign with her cute kitten stare.
Feeling the heat in the street. Heads taking in the beat. Music's got my feet jump'in. Beats got my heart pump'in. Feeling my body move'in. I'm get'in down and groov'in. Bodies moving all around.
There was once a man named twiddle Who loved to play the fiddle Twiddle twiddled fiddles all day long.
I keep my rigid control, my steady downhill roll. Shock pumping iron, Deathstar climax spiral. Best fucking move it, When I'm in here grooving. Spazzy legs doing the crawl. My body in crazy control.
So I went for a jog this morning by the Thames. As the burning in my chest became almost unbearable, I paused for a smoke. (Yes I smoke after excercise and I'm generally counterproductive).
Boy now had some money in his pocket but not enough, he check his pocket-watch "not long now" he thought to himself.
6 years ago I was in New York City on vacation with my family. I don't remember much from that trip asides Times Square and the huge chocolate store we visited.