Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
The Dead Awake The grave is cracked, the stones are torn. The lids of wood, are split and raised. The earth exhales, the soil shakes.
By Marie381Uk 4 months ago in Poets
The Tower of Silence It stands alone, above the waste. The tower black, against the sky. Its walls are smooth, no door is seen.
I sit, eyes caught in autumn's firelight web, His shadow beckons, face of tidal ebbs And flows only my deepest mem'ry knows,
By Katharine Poole 4 months ago in Poets
The Gate of Ash The gate is wide, yet no one dares enter. Its towers burn, without a flame. The ground is black, the stones are torn.
Death is just a bit too much, isn't it? — Cliché? Overstated? Not the point, is it? — Death weighs heavy on my mind today
By Paul Stewart4 months ago in Poets
Mother Moon, on this, this Samhain night, bless we your acolytes with fortunes great, as we commune beneath your gentle light
By Lizzy Rose4 months ago in Poets
The rising and the setting suns collide for enough time to steal away a breath. They know there is nowhere for them to hide,
The stars shine tonight, They blind you from the truth of everything I am. The midnight aether acts as my confessional,
"Oh, sweet singer of dreams and fairytales! Would you play us a tune on this fair night? Tell us of that lover of yours who sails
first light my coffee cools as I braid patience thin, five strands, five tries, five counted breaths already frayed. you say…
By Cadma4 months ago in Poets
Morning Bells at school The schoolyard wakes, the morning hums. Children spill, like light through doors. Shoes click on stone, voices climb high.
I forgave you because I once loved you, although I know you would not do the same. Even when your hatred towards me grew,
