slam poetry

Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.

First date
Why the need to call me baby? All these diminutive names Seem to me a bit degrading, We ve barely talked And you’re already making claims.
By Polina Papazova5 years ago in Poets
The Great Escape
We find ourselves building-bound, searching each room. Trying to find sanctum, where sole senses loom. For hungry are we, so insatiably so;
By Sean Cruikshanks5 years ago in Poets
The Cycle: Unbroken
When I was a girl, too small to just wonder, my mother would warn me of the laws of karma She told me to treat people the way I want to be treated and if you’re an asshole, it will come back to bite ya
By VANSTHAVIBEXO 5 years ago in Poets
Traveling Wonder
The iron horse dominated its place Its thundering action always left its trace It always had a job to do; that was its duty
By Kevin Tennert5 years ago in Poets
It’s your turn
These four ivory walls keep me trapped here. The feeling of being suffocated only grows stronger by the day. I feel the sun’s bumblebee yellow rays beat down on me. I feel the clouds cheer me on. The azure skies and emerald green trees join as if they’re calling for me. I roll over. Ignoring the outside simulation for the real world; my world. It’s stone blue and wild wolf grey.
By Caedis Nesbitt5 years ago in Poets
The Rhinosaurus Climbs
Tough times ahead You Get out a bed To Sow the threads of tomorrow The lust The dread The sorrow It's Your tapestry now
By James Spencer-Briggs5 years ago in Poets
Symbolic Sounds and Sunny Spots
This is me, this chaotic, confounding, creature of cataclysmic proportions, collected and confined within this container that I call home. I am free-flowing rivers racing into waterfalls and fierce fires that feed on every fragment they can find. I am the isolated shards of ice in your veins. I am a vicious vulture circling and consuming untucked, uncensored thoughts. I am the Earth beneath, benevolent and alarmingly unpredictable. I am the air in your lungs, either acidic or alkaline, but always light even when it feels heavy. I am the kaleidoscope of colour captured in every pin-head propped-up poster or pixel that parades across your vision. I am all the tiny things we’ve yet to discover or decode; deep space, dark matter, dragons, the meaning of life. You are all these things too.
By Obsidian Words5 years ago in Poets
Dear Body
Size Down new gown too Round nip tuck size up obsessing undressing caressing head messing too much don’t touch hip lover
By Zara Michales5 years ago in Poets
The World We Live In
I’ve been contemplating the latest human condition how being fake and superficial has become the new religion where social media is validation and no love, no trust, and work yourself to death has become the new mantra.
By Yoruichi 5 years ago in Poets
32
Since when did a poem need to fit a certain form? Since when was poetry a hundred words or more? Ink spills onto the floor and what for?
By Rick Chen5 years ago in Poets
That Mockingbird Won't Sing
When I was small I saw the world with stars in my eyes. Flower petals danced in the wind and sunsets kissed the earth beneath my feet.
By Rae Janney5 years ago in Poets
To be 33, conscious and black
envision these images and colors expressed on this page. Relax. Let go. Breathe and Be. As a kid i wanted to travel to blackness, where the stars twinkled, space, astronaut
By Kashif Uqdah5 years ago in Poets