Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
I never used to do this Over-eat. I never used to let that thunder dream down upon me, I had pushed it out like a secret honey comb that was not a true part of the colony’s design
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
My mother’s favorite color is yellow, but not gold her carats of jewelry bespoke My grandmother’s more of a yellow tulip bulb, among numerous sunflowers
By Saroyan Coles3 years ago in Poets
Since they found out Beethoven was black, Now they sober with facts It's like the truth is all over, perhaps... And we laugh!
By El Poet3 years ago in Poets
i tried to sell my soul to the devil he just laughed he put his hand on my shoulder looked me in eye and said "son i know you're hurting
By Bren3 years ago in Poets
Tell us what he said He said ‘You know I love you baby’ He said ‘Promise, I’ll pay you back’ He said ‘I know I can be selfish
By LilyRose3 years ago in Poets
The colors in front of me I can see the truth The colors in front of me I can see the lies behind the curtain once more I realize
By Schubert TALK LLC © KD3 years ago in Poets
Spiraling and falling Galaxies and calling Your loved ones Trying to make some sense of the world The one to which we hold
By June3 years ago in Poets
We played with death So, we could be alive We knew that’s a risk we shouldn’t take But we are keen on life anyway
By Marie Cadette Pierre-Louis3 years ago in Poets
when I got back, I ran a bath with Santal 33 Le Labo oil oh, it smelled so good soothin’ my wracked nerves and the water wasn’t even as cold
By Moon Desert3 years ago in Poets
Water is flowing as the forest is growing, finding comfort in the thought of knowing. Knowing the beauties that are hidden within the sand, the water, the snow, and the dirt, the rock, the mud, and all things on this earth.
By Dylan 3 years ago in Poets
clutching old thoughts on a new afternoon scrambling cold noughts and the forthcoming soon tearing open old ideas
My nose is red and my eyes are pink, wet like water falls down the sides of my cheeks I lay my head on the thick of my sheets and silently, I weep.
By Bri Campbell3 years ago in Poets
