Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
Like a busy bee I will be Speaking truth truthfully To the flowers In need Your power in me Equipped with your spirit
By Cheyenne Mercado3 years ago in Poets
Labor… Her entrance into this world, was one of the most unbearable experiences of my life. Unexpected. All alone! Her conception perceived as strife.
By Alaine Hay3 years ago in Poets
Full moon, bright and round In the sky, without a sound I had a dream, so strange and wild Of creatures and magic, so beguiled
By Nims3 years ago in Poets
The ocean’s eyes twinkled like shiny sapphire Wooden unpainted crates stretched like a maze Unwillingly walking across the crates floating
By Cadma3 years ago in Poets
Rain, oh rain You bring such a pain But also so much gain Your drops, they fall Like a never-ending squall On rooftops, trees, and all
By Preethi3 years ago in Poets
Long path to solitude All over a family feud Yes, I was a cruel dude With a bad attitude Never in a good mood I didn't mean to be rude
By AdonShar For Real3 years ago in Poets
**This poem was written for the Vocal+Assist Facebook Group challenge by Rick Henry. The challenge suggested a poem over 100 words that mentions blood presure, the word beautiful, and a word that rhymes with beautiful.
By Holly Pheni3 years ago in Poets
This is my thirty-eighth dark poem in the series inspired by Dharrsheena. It is just a take on how men and the patriarchy abuse women, and this still goes on today but it has to turn soon. Women are equal in every way to men.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 years ago in Poets
Life is a puzzle that no-man can comprehend; Hardship, adversity and objection are all pre-requisites to attend. Our path is covered by a simplistic view until we learn to listen,
By Jollyoddbod Poetry3 years ago in Poets
a soldier in World War II sent to die a French death in tattered uniform threads my new red, white, and blue feeling terrified, filthy like a rag
By Jeffrey Sparks3 years ago in Poets
I'm doing the time, Because of the wine. Perhaps it's a dream, I truly don't know, But I'll tell you my story of sorrow and woe.
By JBaz3 years ago in Poets
Hesitate and drown: The void calls incessantly Words I don't intend to hear Crawling; opal spiders in my ears Weave their pearl webs on my mind
By Ryan Welch3 years ago in Poets
