Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
Battles. How can you count them all joy? Emotions turned into a toy. Heart pounding. Enemy's cries resounding. Battles.
By Rowan Finley 6 years ago in Poets
Today was the day I felt it was best. To jump back on a flight before my body is put to rest. New Year’s Day was probably The turning point, from how a guy made me feel, I fell straight to disappoint.
By Troubles in my past.6 years ago in Poets
Oh if I could go back to being 22, Jump in a time machine and change this shitty avenue. Growing up I thought this would be easy, I thought id be famous so easy fuckin peasy.
"So sad, so sad You're always just so sad Good God *deep sigh* Who am I, to be so proud, to say these things
By Mia Lynn6 years ago in Poets
Black Man. Tossed & beaten, I mourn in your waking. Black Man. To see in the eyes of your very being I have comprehention. brutalized into self contradiction, Baby Boyd into self hate.
By Aspen Randell6 years ago in Poets
In times of good, in times of ease, our carers pain we do not see. In times like these, in times of fear, our carers exhaustion is all too clear.
By Michael Whateley6 years ago in Poets
Please note, I write poems under my real name but I usually post under my SelenaJade Pen Name. Thanks and enjoy! Feel free to check out my other works!
By Jennifer Salinas6 years ago in Poets
have you ever want to make a dream come true? i have seen through time and came to find the line between myself and my future, and i have crossed it.
By White Eyes6 years ago in Poets
Please note that while I write poetry under my real name (Jennifer), I publish under my Pen Name, Selena Jade. Thanks for understanding!
Sitting down looking at the clock, fighting past the writers block, thinking of a theme good enough to write, into my head pops a simple kite,
By Jenni Lodge6 years ago in Poets
The drive surges like currents of false ambition Vice-like smokey vapors will your intoxication, Overstimulating the senses until the next fix;
By Mario Castelli6 years ago in Poets
Whilst the ambiance, of the city bus, filled my ears my pops, sitting next to me, tells me, "listen here" "where we're headed, there's some dreaded folk, begging for notes
By Glyndŵr6 years ago in Poets
