performance poetry

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

Finding You.
She quivered and jittered with anxiety. It had been over a year. It felt like more. Her home had been gone. An unreachable, Trespassers-Not-Permitted entity.
By Christina LaRosa4 years ago in Poets
Bigger
I want someone’s heart to be big enough to hold me Cradle every inch of my being Squash every one of my fears Relieve my doubts of being too much
By Brittany Rogozinski4 years ago in Poets
Home
A home is warm, soft and comfortable… Four walls of brick and mortar, plasterboard and council poured concrete floors topped with a wooden a-frame dressed in mock slate. Raw hard materials joined together by the hands of man to create an egg, a shell, a seed. The foundations sink deep into the cold hard ground and root the idea of home.
By Rosie Olivier-Heggs4 years ago in Poets
Sadness Was a Place I Call Home
Sadness was a place I call home It was a place I knew very well It all started one day at school I was only five; it was a new school but the welcome band
By Napoleon4 years ago in Poets
POEM
HOME is my paradise to me HOME is my kingdom I am the queen. It is my palace. I can do whatever I want in my home. I can wake up when I want, take my shower,
By Sandra Bongjoh4 years ago in Poets
out of the between
A strange sense of limbo exists in bus terminals, train stations, airports, a waiting in the between places. There belonging,
By Oliver Kipp4 years ago in Poets
Home Of A Thousand Words
What does home mean to me? Is it a feeling, a location, a thing? A moment, a person, or the feelings they bring? My home is so perfect you wouldn't believe it.
By Blue Dymond4 years ago in Poets
On a Bed of Anxiety
My bed, it comforts me. This is home. Layers of blankets bode me a “come hither” as I climb in. Cool sheets kiss my body, as if to say hello. I shudder, but just as soon exhale a deep breath of relief.
By Stephanie Svarda4 years ago in Poets
Home
I always thought home was that place with the wire-net fence and the brown desert lawn and the white stucco walls, coarse
By Danny Lopez4 years ago in Poets
Home is Not a Place
Home lives in the human experience where moments and stories dwell. Sometimes home is joy and love, sometimes disappointment and grief; but where one story ends, another always taken its place.
By April Crews4 years ago in Poets
Connections@home
Take me to a place dear friend A place where I can relax and be myself through video calls Take me to a place dear father
By Kiki4 years ago in Poets
My life in 4 countries
Photographs taken; memories captured, Friendships made, kept and lost Places traveled, amazing sites seen, Cultures experienced, and languages heard
By Samantha Miller4 years ago in Poets