Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
These three can be gentle, benevolent, playful, and fun; but play can turn to mischief, mischief can become uninhibited … oh, and you never, ever want to make them mad.
By r. nuñez7 years ago in Poets
The hardest part about losing somebody is that spell when there don’t seem to be any answers, nothing and nobody seem to make any difference in the way you feel, and you don’t know what to do with yourself.
The music mixes with the rain drops as they fall The saxaphone doesn’t seem to mind, it keeps spitting out what it wants to say
By Noah Hagedorn7 years ago in Poets
Here are the words to the poem in the video above: I used to cry mascara. I was so uncomfortable the first time I wore a bra.
By Victoria-Louise Sweet7 years ago in Poets
The cosmos of the night sky crash into a million sparkles and it’s not that I’m waiting for the sparkles to fall on me but when I try it
By Bazooka Teaches7 years ago in Poets
Do you hide the real you? Do you hide over social media? Do you take a blanket and erase your image so no one can see you?
By Yuri Kenan7 years ago in Poets
I have taken the same medicine for half of my life and I am still crazy and cannot stop - Is there anything else available
Under this big bright corolla that burns my skin brown, the waves of people’s utterance boggles my mind like a child watching a bloody film.
She furiously scratches deep into her skin. Trying to get and destroy what’s within. Flesh and blood crowd under her nail.
By No? No. No. Non. YARO. 7 years ago in Poets
Father, I told you I was drowning You said the water I was swallowing was good for me That I was going to be hydrated Could you not see that the water was black, like a smoker’s lungs
By Victoria Stout7 years ago in Poets
Laying on the curb where you left my motionless body you beat me down because I was different now I sit here all bloody wishing I was the same as every one else like the preppy popular kids having fun an hanging out but you don’t but me in that class you put me in the freak show
By John Red7 years ago in Poets
i asked my mother once through sun bleached and sea salted hair while the heat hung lazily in the air why it is that grownups sit and talk and laugh for fun
By Zoe Taylor7 years ago in Poets
