slam poetry

Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.

Time for a Change
A feminist who hated women A soldier who never fought For one who hated labels You applied an awful lot You’ve traded your beard for lipstick
By Dan George6 years ago in Poets
Where’s Ya Focus At?
Where’s Your Focus At? The Struggle is real, As far as your hustle, you better go hard or stay home, Not too many are Real, & even less are dedicated to Self-Success,
By Diamond Dreams Movement6 years ago in Poets
No More!
To reduce the risk of another broken heart, I burnt my emotions, black Eyes focused on everything else, for months, I changed into just that
By Cameile Graham6 years ago in Poets
Immune
Honestly... I'm not immune to the sharp, verbal swords driven through the thin, skin of my now bleeding heart. Though I may like it rough, during sex, granted, but not when we're trying to talk. For real, there's absolutely nothing Fifty Shades of Grey about being verbally ripped and torn apart.
By ©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse6 years ago in Poets
the devil and his posse.
Stolen. Stolen is the only word I can use to begin to describe your work. Your success. Your future. Everything you have, is attributed to me. Every idea you have pursued was mine before it was yours – before I gave it to you.
By M. A. Hetussa6 years ago in Poets
Call Me, Joker
Abused, alone, adopted He never stood a chance In a burning world dismantled by gunfire A world that drove him to insanity
By Emily Bredahl6 years ago in Poets
While Sitting in Traffic on a Tuesday Evening
"While Sitting in Traffic on a Tuesday Evening” A work of creative nonfiction. By K. R. King What does it take to truly cope with every little Curveball,
By Kat King6 years ago in Poets
A Nation Dismantled
Our home – our sanctuary; burnt selfishly by one Your rules – your power; crumbling beliefs into none Our tenancy – our commitment; faithful to withhold
By Jord Tury6 years ago in Poets
Today is the day
The day is going to hit you when you realize she’s no longer a choice you get to make because she finally chose someone who chose her. You’ll cross paths and she won’t notice you because she’s staring at someone else laughing harder than you’ve ever seen her.
By Danika harnett 6 years ago in Poets
Life in a bag
When a backpack doubles as a pillow When you look at me begging for change, you shake your head - you see a ‘bum’ “a dirty Indian” or tell me to “go back to my country”
By Danika harnett 6 years ago in Poets
I AM
I AM I am not the type of girl Men will lose their voices Singing songs about. I am the girl Men will lose their lives
By Joyce Lee6 years ago in Poets
I've been working
I rarely hold a testimony or a microphone because i know what words do they change and they transform people so I've been working on myself
By Widj-Gaëlle Norvil6 years ago in Poets