performance poetry

Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.

Remember the Mountains
And my dad whispered to “remember the mountains.” He will meet me there.
By Annie Edwards 3 years ago in Poets
The Dangerous Journey
Treacherous mountains: Jagged cliffs test my balance. Climbing tests my strength.
By Annie Edwards 3 years ago in Poets
Fearing the Mountain
I feared the mountain. I stumbled on the rubble. I plunged to my death.
By Annie Edwards 3 years ago in Poets
Majestic Mountain
Majestic mountain, your beauty leaves me in awe. My journey awaits.
By Annie Edwards 3 years ago in Poets
The Scarlet Oak
[It exists. The silence, it must still exist.] . I cannot dive to the bottom of the seas, Nor can I breathe the air atop Everest.
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
I'm A Writer Of Make Believe. Top Story - November 2022.
I write for the release - the flow gives to me, now I want to stir something in you. Vast emotions created, as you delve in to see,
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden3 years ago in Poets
Off My Meds
The video speaks for itself, but I have to write some words here it seems, so let me just add a bit of a disclaimer because I think it's important. I am not against psyche meds when carefully prescribed by someone who takes the time to understand the true causation of the patient's symptoms.
By Lyndsay Ryor3 years ago in Poets
Memory Breathes
Memory breathes claiming a life of its own it breathes reminding me how little I control pulling the past forward in the most pertinent way,
By Bugsy Watts3 years ago in Poets
Ripped off
I once heard Regina Spektor say, she was “Aching to pupate,” But here I am starving to Be ripped apart Evidently evicted from the flesh house that apparently makes up me,
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
Self Controlled
sometimes the urge to punch some fucking knob end some smart arse big mouth some tickets all on himself arsehole that certain smarmy some cunt
By Bren3 years ago in Poets
November Nostalgia
Escape is my only savior at the moment I pile up the ashes of my own doing I would've started long ago, had I known it The pleasure of cold air and coffee brewing
By The Girl in Grey3 years ago in Poets
A Poem
I once was lost But now I'm found Was Blind But now I see The strongholds Are broken down The new version Of me
By HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)3 years ago in Poets