Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
I'm supposed to be spiritual without saying His name. I'm supposed to live free without letting Him heal my shame. I'm supposed to succeed
By Kar Mama8 years ago in Poets
A breeze that plays around in the south side streets full of love, the smell of grandmother soul food tagging along like a small boy tugging at his father shirt,
By Shiloh Mcfadden8 years ago in Poets
Over the course of my time locked inside the world of word manipulation I have found myself on many occasions blown away at the capacity of which I'm able to produce my freely flowing passages at.
By Billy Daniels8 years ago in Poets
Looking around I see Some people got it made It's just unbelievable What some folk are getting paid Movie Stars In fancy cars
By Reid Moore8 years ago in Poets
Oh, how I know how much you hate me You want my soul to control But your darkness just flees I walk through the night tiptoeing
By Charlene Ellison8 years ago in Poets
Please Enlighten me with the logic of your nonsense. Your lips are moving now but You're speaking in past tense. I used to think before I speak but now the words fall out and they die at my feet.
By Emily Metz8 years ago in Poets
There are many colours Shades of all kinds Pigments that start to formulate Exactly what we feel inside The blue is of sadness
By Holly Santonato8 years ago in Poets
Who are you to judge me? Who do you think you are to be judging me? Who gave you the right to judge me? Who told you that it was okay to judge me?
By Claudia Sincere8 years ago in Poets
Look at me, See me through a scope Longingly, patiently See me at the end of the rope You demand my soul, but forget my heart
By Luke Segota8 years ago in Poets
In the confrontation zone There's no turning back now Your whispers are yells And your yells strike the bone Words are like bullets if you
By Eddie Feldt8 years ago in Poets
This is the church And this is the steeple Open the doors to see all the Empty pews The warped wood worn with The time and the affection
By Aurelia Reynolds8 years ago in Poets
It was a cold day as it has been for awhile now. The weather among many other things has become horrific. Mother doesn’t know whether to make it rain or snow, Father doesn’t know when to let go.
By Shyenne ♒️🌞🌼8 years ago in Poets
