Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
a man is screeching like an old radio I don’t know what I can do he starts in the morning when the birds’ chirps cease, he’s waking up with a loud yawn
By Moon Desert3 years ago in Poets
I was born at midnight, when most people tend to be asleep - a sign I was born to dream, lost in my imagination, wandering in my thoughts;
By Lune3 years ago in Poets
Start writing... You're everything; you're the reason why You're the brightest star up in the sky You're the thoughts that keep me up at night
By Shelby Davenport3 years ago in Poets
I can afford a nice comfy room with a lot of books to read. My own library sounds like a comfortable place to be, I plead.
By Denise E Lindquist3 years ago in Poets
Not going to lie, I feel personally attacked. So, I guess this means I better clean up my act. When it comes to art, I should stop making atrocities.
By Thavien Yliaster3 years ago in Poets
I wish that I were different, But in some ways stayed the same, I wish I were more prepared to play a losing game, I wish I could rewind time,
By Jake Snyder3 years ago in Poets
Stay with one forever, never to be separated The inner turmoils, together you’ve survived To make that binding vow, for three years you’ve waited
By Daniel Freeman 3 years ago in Poets
They say--> He's a poetry machine He just can't help it Everything he sees and hears turns into a poem (of some sort) Big and Small things
By Wm Kucera 3 years ago in Poets
More dark poetry for Dharrsheenaand her True Crime, Horror Story & Dark Poetry Facebook group. This is no way reflects on how I feel
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 years ago in Poets
solving puzzles and problems comforts me on the case I am, loving the twist and turns variables sorted into categories I am deeply satisfied
By Carolyn F. Chryst3 years ago in Poets
Somebody jacked my shoes. Who? I haven't got a clue. Somebody jacked my shoes. They better hope I don't find out who.
"Where are you going?" Grandma asked. "Taking a walk," I answered. "In this wind?" "Wind's good for you," I said. "It clears out the cobwebs of the mind."
By Heather Cumbo3 years ago in Poets
