performance poetry

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

VIBRATE HIGHER
let this divine hue vibrate resonate reverberate and richochet from retina to that inner place where mountains meet gorges
By Thala Muhs5 years ago in Poets
First Moleskine
Impossible to tell now, what was choice, action, re-reaction. The colours mix: your thinking, my own. Obedience squeezed
By Andy Melhuish5 years ago in Poets
Brightening, Illumination
My primaries were once intact and unbudging I used to be so, red-- so bold and bright, and burning with courage and dignity and pride
By Autumn Faithwalker5 years ago in Poets
The Warrior's Rainbow Road
Most Martial Arts are coded by colored belts, as a child and growing up, my world was ruled by colored stripes round adult waists.
By Nessy Writer5 years ago in Poets
Vibrant Woman
Most mornings I attempt to write I look in the mirror and A maroon aura surrounds me The blues of the ocean do so captivate
By Angelina Ford5 years ago in Poets
Find myself in colour.
The red blended with the blue. Purple silence took me to the sky in full view. The clouds past through, the shades of grey overcame me.
By Amit Shah5 years ago in Poets
Colour is Nothing
My burning joy, the lightest blue A cross deep oceans of the same. Meet the girls who changed my world, It would never be the same.
By Aiden Kelsall5 years ago in Poets
Colors within me
Colors make me giggle,jiggle, swiggle, wiggle, wriggle, shiggle, shake, clap, tap, jump,dance,rattle and roll like a delicious bowl of fruity jello ready to eat
By Dianne Mckay5 years ago in Poets
Lavender Dreams
My passport sits collecting dusts, cries to learn something new, asks to be read but all I see is memories not had. I lay in my room lavender from my mother’s garden dried and held in a glass vase on my bedside next to my journal while my oil diffuser slowly envelopes my entire room in lavender. I lay still while the moon and the lavender sing silent lullabies to my purple heart;
By Shelly Campbell5 years ago in Poets
to be more than this
to be more than this; blinded by white breathing in blue red curtains of fright a crowd of maroon awaiting a show
By kazmyn 5 years ago in Poets
Dilute
For many, Red is anger or passion a fire blazing, gaining traction. My tiny Red sits small, and soft swinging high in my heart aloft.
By KryptidKorin5 years ago in Poets
Color Me Anxious
Some days I wish I can see the rainbow Each day has its own trouble, so don’t worry about tomorrow Trouble is, I don’t worry in days, I worry in hours
By Monique Will5 years ago in Poets