performance poetry

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

Reason To Smile
Colours do not have emotions. Red is not angry, Purple is not luxurious, and Blue is not calm. Despite what others may say,
By Caileigh Graham5 years ago in Poets
Rose Blush
what makes rose blush And pearls cry out for diamonds Pears turn of peach A moon cries for a sky to smile and fire feels like rain
By Sarah Peeler5 years ago in Poets
Transparency
Oh my soul, how to describe you in a color? How to capture you in an array of words, when you are the fountain from which words form!
By Hailey Frogley 5 years ago in Poets
What Colour Am I?
What colour am I? Look on the outside or on the inside. You decide. Take your pick. Then look at the others, the ones I am akin to.
By Margaret Watson5 years ago in Poets
We are here.
She runs hot and cold like fire and ice Like heaven and hell, of mice And main Two different captains
By Damilola5 years ago in Poets
Don't Forget
Click, search refresh, sigh. Repost, double click, give a heart, forget and barely bat an eye. What does it mean really to be a white ally?
By Madison Ann Hawkins5 years ago in Poets
They call me Mr. Green
I feel I embody green, good and bad, nice and mean. Honest but always with a scheme in mind, sweet as a pear, and sour like a lime. And just like fruit, I never have enough time, that's why I only ever talk about my problems through rhyme.
By Cullen Hoggan5 years ago in Poets
Blue and White Squares
Blue and white squares are all I see Creating a connection with you for me Pieces of cloth, torn to shreds The rest of the family with hands in their heads
By Laura Futter5 years ago in Poets
Synaesthesia
The week in colour Saturday is purple, paler than rain pink pricks of light dusting the morning my daughter sees circles enclosing,
By Janet Smith5 years ago in Poets
Shadow Conversations
A construct of color rain-bowing outside a white reality. Breathe! Mustering the courage to have shadow conversations. Coexisting in a space that holds no time. Marinating on midnight dreams. Destigmatization of polarized views. Watering flowers with tears.
By Christopher5 years ago in Poets
Not The Furniture Store
I never liked my name I’m not sure if it’s the name itself, or the way I sound saying it But one thing I love is the way it looks in cursive
By Keys Will5 years ago in Poets
mum
To the mum sitting on the train in front of me It seems you are very much the same As a mum I witnessed just the other day
By Heather Miller5 years ago in Poets