performance poetry

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

all over the place
I was hurting for money so i took back my redemptions put all my coins
By Steven Palmer5 years ago in Poets
To Praise
To praise *After Maurice Riordan Of all colors, indigo, how its longing fathoms takes you under. Of all sights, the untrammeled slope, white after white.
By Elizabeth Marglin5 years ago in Poets
Are You Blue?
Are you Blue? Cold and sad Or calm And cool? Collected even Uniquely you. Are you Red? Full of rage, Anger and hate?
By Em Short5 years ago in Poets
Flash
Flash my insight like gleam of sword in sunlight Too dark with excess depth of bright Tears from sun are a day’s worth of work toiling til twilight
By Intelligible5 years ago in Poets
The Color of We
Her bronze skin draws me in like sweet caramel-tasting intuitions. The gods in the bluest of heavens have blessed me. She is undoubtedly scientifically impressively crafted;
By Lance Aleong5 years ago in Poets
dodging a life of sin
I succumbed to the pressure I danced with the devil for five seconds and I kinda liked it am I allowed to admit that? am I allowed to admit that I’ve broken the rules a few times
By barelyautumn5 years ago in Poets
My Favourite Hues of Me
You think I’d say It’s something like The colour of my skin. An earthy, copper, orange, brown-ish, bronze and yellow thing.
By Lee Tyson5 years ago in Poets
My Eyes
Green is the color of grass Brown is the color of dirt Blue is the color of the sky and all those colors are in my eyes
By Jessica Howard5 years ago in Poets
Inappropriatalities
I speak when better left silent. I abstain when action is required. Perfecting inappropriatalities. Apt to see the spell-checker agrees with me. Fashioned words from words not found in a dictionary. I fail, I fail, I fail thrice goodly. Give me long enough, and I’ll break breaking broken things.
By Hunter Blakely5 years ago in Poets
Digital Cave Wall
That night was so good it orgasmed through the echos Every person thrusting now is charging the motor inside me that night
By Noway Noe5 years ago in Poets
Coloured Colourless Artefact
I praise the ones who paint in colour They never pause to question why I yearn to let out all I’ve held deep within And yet, I fear i’ll never stop if I begin
By Elysia Desille5 years ago in Poets
Tumbled Aventurine
Born between kind of blue and collard greens, John Coltraned to distant lovers I was blessed to be born in a world surrounded by love.
By Jericho Rose 5 years ago in Poets