Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
One eye is blue, the other green; Sometimes I wonder if that’s all they’ve seen. “You have beautiful eyes,” they say. I guess I should be grateful, but I’m not okay.
By S. R. Lansberg5 years ago in Poets
Violet's not just my middle name But I feel it is my colour Violet's my Great Grandma's name Violet is an honour Violet means twelfth night
By Khadija5 years ago in Poets
It started with Cain, Raising cane, chopping cane, stripping cane, drying cane, Sugar Cane. Green fading at each step,
By Scott Sayre5 years ago in Poets
If you had stopped and said, "Hello," I might have looked around for other people, perplexed by the new you. By the forgiving you.
By Arielle Irvine5 years ago in Poets
An older cousin once told me, "When you were a baby you had red hair and violet eyes. Some of the relatives wanted to send you back."
By Lynn Von Sien5 years ago in Poets
Pink T Shirts, Pink sheets, Pink Jewels, and hair, There isn't much not touched by Pink's flare. IsThere it brings smile to my face.
By Becca Fleetwood5 years ago in Poets
I am red, I am brave. Bravery is not the absence of fear, rather the acknowledgement of fear, and the courage to rise above the feeling of fear.
By Lola Dalu5 years ago in Poets
(When reciting poem stand and when narrating sit) Around the clock my sea creature and I trail each other everywhere, With a certain questionable fondness,
By Ann Herrold5 years ago in Poets
I HAVE A BLACK PAINTER AND NO GENDER I have a black painter called experience who has very little indulgence and zero tolerance for weakness. He was employed the day I vacated my mother’s womb. He was waiting and he started painting that very day.
By Nneka Anieze5 years ago in Poets
At the festival of colors , a tapestry is undone In this world we live in, what we see mirrors us What's the beauty in one single color being on it’s own?
By Jaimie Park5 years ago in Poets
I walk, surrounded by the sounds of buskers, the sight of husks of people sleeping bags cocooning bodies. Sights, sounds, and feelings
By Rachael Hope5 years ago in Poets
Sepia Look over here Ignore the faded gray childhood Evade the vicious crimson adolescence Dismiss the glistening gold summer days and velvet navy nights in love
By Kim Lauritsen 5 years ago in Poets
