Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
Do you dream in colour? As the song once said And I do But during my waking hours I choose my colours to match my mood I think I’m red at heart,
By Gillian Lesley Scott5 years ago in Poets
Pitch Black. cant take no shape or no shit, like me. imagine mouthing off to the abyss, challenging which the blind will see.
By Geva Energy 5 years ago in Poets
Idris Busari Creative, inquisitive, smart. Son of Latifah Animashaun, Omobolanle David(Dauda) Busari, 3rd of Seven children, preceded by Saidi and Olayemi.
By Idris Busari5 years ago in Poets
When I close my eyes, I see burnt umber, fuchsia, and maroon The colors taught to me by the waxy crayons of childhood—wrapped in paper, rounded points.
By Jordan Gilletti5 years ago in Poets
Moleskin had enough of reading little black books. “Enough!” Moleskin roars. “Give me all your true colours!” I must pour my neon soul upon these pages,
By Chloe Gilholy5 years ago in Poets
Chop suey You got me gooey like melted glass Kung Fuey chopped up like stir fried bass Fishy Fishy Smells like the sea
By Rachel Crain5 years ago in Poets
I thought I had it together But now my mind changes like New England weather Medical school was my dream But life has changed my scheme
By Natalia Castillo5 years ago in Poets
I learn today, if tampered upon, some maize strains can reach forty feet, and I wonder if corn that tall could retake me
By Alice Alexandra Moore5 years ago in Poets
So I have not taken, my medication for bipolar since Friday. Today it is Tuesday. . I feel great, just fine, in fact.
By Erin Shields5 years ago in Poets
I don't know what the city sounds like. I don't listen to it. I feel it. I see it. I walk through the concrete, but I keep my head in the clouds, my mind in a heavy fog, my thoughts lifted into the sky, where the city can't touch them.
By Leslie Ramirez5 years ago in Poets
It's a sunny day at 11 a.m. M. I had a primer in my right hand I was happy I was going on a work date I regret what happened
By Anouk5 years ago in Poets
The moon was a spotlight in a blackened sky, A late night at the office, a crisp wind blew my jacket just past my fingers as I grasped it close.
By SaMya Overall 5 years ago in Poets
