Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
I’m not black, I’m not white I guess I’m something in-between And in school because of that The kids were pretty cold and mean
By Tia shek5 years ago in Poets
His eyes were green. Not that they worked. “But you’re so confident” His resilience a detriment to assistance. With the words burned on his soul
By Jake England5 years ago in Poets
che ore sono? Italian (ke ori sono) ¿que hora es? Spanish (ke ora es?) Kati bajyō? Nepali (kati bat cho) Que horas sã o Portugese ( ke oras sow)
By Heather Miller5 years ago in Poets
It was one of those nights where I’d finish boiling the greyish nuances, Tracked the evaporation through each painful millilitre
By Jessica C5 years ago in Poets
I am the way the prism of light beams at the balcony door in the morning. I am the soft breeze that sends a whisp of hair into the lavender sky like a balloon.
By Samira Sohail5 years ago in Poets
7am pills. 3pm pills. 10pm pills. Unscrew the cap Water Wash it down As a little girl, I remember my fathers legs They could carry anything
By Danielle Antonellis5 years ago in Poets
Peruse this differently & you'll see the spectrum change Stuck inside a prism, you won't need rose tinted shades Iridescent; They don't see you in the same light that I do
By Ted Joyce5 years ago in Poets
Black overcomes me, before the red washes over me. My aunt is dead. She is another number, a statistic. Black and white is what she is reduced to. But she’s my aunt. She’s my mothers cousin.
By Michelle Hoptowit5 years ago in Poets
Chocolate drips start to settle into a overlapping, melon, blue sky. By now the signs plastered on the bus read: 6am. Sleeping intoxication awake to the sound of ticking and tapping on the benches.
By Tanea Hill5 years ago in Poets
My black life matters and now it’s in your face The 3% you call the inferior race Now its trending on the news you pretend to care
By Joshua Brown5 years ago in Poets
I often sit and think of all the times gone by The roads travelled and the years passed, The experiences that have shaped me
By Colleen Millsteed 5 years ago in Poets
Time I was monochromatic. Colorless Clutch charismatic Pseudo self Scene emblematic embracing my enigmatic
By Robert Trakofler5 years ago in Poets
