Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
In the waking world he’s lovely But he really is a dick in dreams So very consistently that it’s become something of a tell:
By liell3 years ago in Poets
I was the waves and pull of the moon. You were always tired. I wrote apologies in braille, and buried them in the foundation of your sleepy house.
By Ashleigh Bartlett3 years ago in Poets
Moony Me haces sentir que estoy en la luna: you asked me to distill this feeling for you: it hums like a kiss por dentro de mi muñeca,
By Rebbekah Vega Romero3 years ago in Poets
the house my own green the air summer clean
By Barbara D Pyndus, galaxybabs, SerendipitySpeaksArt3 years ago in Poets
I ended my shift at one in the morning, a brick of moneris slips in my hand. My heart deflated and dripped down my body alongside the sweat.
By Jamie Ramsay3 years ago in Poets
“The Nightmare inside my mind” The nightmare inside my mind. My subconscious leaves a message for me to find. The experience is unique in its design.
By Teddie Darbro 3 years ago in Poets
I had a dream so strange and wild A world unlike any I had seen Where colors swirled and shapes defied And logic seemed to cease to be
By Shamz 4203 years ago in Poets
Water, a fluid force, A source of life and growth, Nurtures the mind and body, A source of endless flow. It fills the oceans,
Light, a guiding force, Illuminates our way, Brings consciousness, To each and every day. It dances on the water, And shimmers on the leaves,
I awoke. Only to realize I was still asleep. Behind the lids that flicker while closed. Within the networks of thoughts.
By Rocco3 years ago in Poets
I write a grand concerto It is sheer perfecto I see the musical notes Like a balloon in the air that floats It lulls me to sleep
By Sarah Loyd3 years ago in Poets
It's like looking backwards and forward at the same time wanning and gaining only to wan again. The years feel like the rising and falling tide.
By [email protected]3 years ago in Poets
