Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
I’ve always wished what that felt like. I guess that’s the hole in my spirit and soul, a part of life I never knew and still don’t know.
By Richard Carranza4 years ago in Poets
Hearing “home is where the heart is” how my heart seems hardly here, Have I harped about this house enough to have a heart that hears,
By Joshua Mcmahon4 years ago in Poets
Home. If home is where the heart is, It’s ‘home’ Where I’m heading Land of the long white cloud Called New Zealand
By Zaine Te Moana Nui A Kiwa Greening4 years ago in Poets
With all its walls and windows, floors and doors, I’m in my home. Sometimes, it engulfs me in warmth, sometimes; it empowers me in courage,
By jodie dekinder4 years ago in Poets
I knew someday I would leave you that one-day I will be gone. But God saw fit to let me stay until you all were grown.
By Brittany Fuller4 years ago in Poets
I have a home wherever I go. I make my home wherever I go. My home is a part of me, of what I let others see, where we all can be
By SheRockScience4 years ago in Poets
Thirty-eight Full from the love they made And thriving on the craze With a heartbeat Everything syncs back with ease
By Dakota Love Dangler4 years ago in Poets
Living behind four walls with other loved accompanies is what called home Place full of beautiful memories that you might even write poem
By Paremila4 years ago in Poets
Home is the place you go to forget the outside crazy Once you step over that threshold leave the excess baggage behind and get kind of lazy
By Joann Miller4 years ago in Poets
Since I was little, I always thought my heart was lopsided and never knew why. Every night, my mom would say I would cry when she gave sleeping a try.
By EJ King4 years ago in Poets
If you could go back to that place, The house under the canopy of six maple trees, The world under cover of being white and smart and gullible and blond and freckled,
By James Gibbons4 years ago in Poets
The walls are barren Old wallpaper, Empty shelves, books in a box The want for home seeping through The words from the stories I grew up reading
By Maariya4 years ago in Poets
