slam poetry

Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.

Critique
What is this A dark cloud of such abyss Work from home Where I found success alone I’m guilty Of creating such beauty
By CJ Enterprise5 years ago in Poets
Ode of the Burger Flipper
I know how you see me: a mindless civil servant, drone bee, here to please you and feed you til' your wallets are empty
By Chris Elliott 5 years ago in Poets
Colors are back
The only colors I could see in kindergarten was black and blue When you said you loved me I knew it wasn’t true When you said you cared that’s when i learned to lie too
By Lydia Mcbee5 years ago in Poets
Monster or Muse
We’re all Someone’s monster we’re all someone’s muse Someone with something another can use Kept for what we can offer
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden5 years ago in Poets
I AM NOT WHITE
I am not white... Not white, but tones of pink of gentle shades of tawny with constellations on my skin of greater and lesser
By CL Redding: 5 years ago in Poets
Black Is...
I am black. Black as blue-black cobalt, West Virginia black coal, ebony brilliant, black widowed, charred like overdone ribs. A black diamond or sapphire, eyeliner, and nail polish. Black as hair dye trying to cover white roots. A black panther sunbathing on a limb looking for a weak and unsuspecting lunch. Black as the chains that hung around the neck and body of my ancestors. But beautiful as a pair of black patent leather shoes that haven't been broken in or a dew-wet black rose. Yes, I'm black and beautiful! And you're a liar if you say I'm not!
By Carolyn June-Jackson5 years ago in Poets
Oi. Ginge
Oi. Ginge. Yes. You. Ginge. Sling that word at me: ginger. Just know you'll never injure my pride. Because I'm proud and ginger.
By Elliott Starr5 years ago in Poets
Refractive
Laying back, enjoying seasons reason, C. Peppered tongue. Not a sky in the clouds. Bluer hues, stillness. Unspecified access.
By Paul Beckett5 years ago in Poets
Myriad Skies. Top Story - May 2021.
We are a forest, filled with creaking, sighing trees - evergreen, deciduous, lush and decaying. Leaves carpet the ground, and mushrooms flourish, safely nestled against the damp warmth of a city of roots, whose owners stretch out of sight above them, infinite. Animals carve paths amongst us all
By S. Dwyer5 years ago in Poets
MEAN
What does it mean to be a girl? Where do I /start/? Was it when I was conceived? When my mother’s X and my father’s X came together, that's what science led me to believe.
By Sadie Silverstein 5 years ago in Poets
N’vious
It started young Started with my lungs The vocal quality, that hazardous calamity MY VOICE Large and buoyant fierce and annoyant
By Crissy Ferguson 5 years ago in Poets
Red oh so Red
Red the color of blood, the color of passion,the color you think of when thinking of a beloved, a color that caused clashing, a clashing between my mom and a white lady, why you may ask, because the lady thought my mom used a mask, a mask to make me an imposter, my mom said it was god given luster ,something she thought was odd, only the fair she said had my red.
By Brittany Carter5 years ago in Poets