performance poetry

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

Rainbow Memories
Wouldn’t it be radical if the stories were all true? ( I mean, at least, the ones that live for Joy...) Like a wooden puppet’s fairy
By CodyGi5 years ago in Poets
Her Color
Sandy red hair, chestnut eyes, amber skin, a red bone to the fellas. Curvaceous hips and sultry lips, the sway of her words as waves in a calm blue ocean, lulling the hearts of man to peace. The light of her smile contrasts the shadows of grey, scaling from her tortured past. Reds of her beating heart, the green of her zeal, and blues of every breath create a white canvas, pure and undefiled. Painting the dreams of tomorrow in the hue of unadulterated hope, she guides every stroke with poise in stride looking to the rainbow in the sky. Bold and beautiful, vivacious, and complex, this vivid and luminous color is me.
By Keri Cormier5 years ago in Poets
I-am-Bic
While strolling through the park one early morn, And watching Golden rays light up the sky, I stumbled past a bench old and time-worn, and took a seat to watch the clouds glide by.
By Toni Jay5 years ago in Poets
The Female Form
I am more than my breasts High and pointed Or low and pendulous I am more than my ass Full and bubbled Or flat and crepey
By Laura O.5 years ago in Poets
Remember Red?
Remember when red was more than the repeated thank you’s printed on translucent plastic bags or the ink on starched white cardboard
By Samuel Wu5 years ago in Poets
Red Mirror
“Blood on the ground?” I repeat as I hop down... from the bar. “Yup, We leave blood on the ground my, (you know, I can’t even type it)”
By Isaac Haldeman 5 years ago in Poets
The Warmth of Familiarity
Warmth of Familiarity John W. Gilmore I. I awakened to the kiss of sunshine. The embrace of the Beloved ignites my passion to be a
By Om Prakash John Gilmore5 years ago in Poets
The Ups and Downs
Love is a rambunctious red... angry, passionate and fiery. Wild and untamed like curls after a lust filled night under a starry sky.
By Brooklynn Cole5 years ago in Poets
We The People
We The People: (We the people...) Walk fast and talk loud, Listen quietly and stand proud, Drippin’ in decisions and flossin’ in the background. Well, on the stage of life.
By TeQuetia Haskell 5 years ago in Poets
Find reflection
It ended with a shallow exhale (whuuuuh). Perhaps a warning that though nine-teen had finally ended, what twenty had coming was a foreboding beginning. From shallow-to-labored (whuh, whuh, whuh, whuch), to arrest, no release. Death sentences exacted from nursing homes to streets. Many failed the challenge to stay home and mask up, space out in crowds, yet still daily buckle up. Others tried to abide in their place of piece, but they were denied. An introverts headphones, peace no more. The hearth of a first responder, peace no more. How many others have peace no more? But we'll never know because cameras didn't show. Just how do you say, "'I can't breath?' in a premature execution chamber?" Do you add well or good? Or show that you stood! How do we navigate by the magnitude? OUr unique history of a modern nation, founded upon centuries of servitude? Now, grappling to keep us in our places, with lowliness, we no longer excude. Perhaps we find reflection. Discover and see that external cannot make us free. The power is in the one who starts back and it always starts with who you are to you and who I am to me and who I am to you and who you are to me.
By thereelbe5 years ago in Poets
Overcome the dragon!
Much had changed, since his inevitable downfall. The mountains no longer surged with the smoke of an unyielding fury, And the ash no longer tainted the air with venom.
By Jordan Zuniga5 years ago in Poets
True Colors
What's blue is blue What's white is White A fact is a fact A lie is a Lie What's wrong is Wrong What's right is Right
By Poetry of Aileen5 years ago in Poets