slam poetry
Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.
Dear Mother-in-Law
The reason why I couldn’t stay was because I would have blown up, and I did not wish to stare down at angry tea in my cup. I didn’t want to say things that I would regret later, to your mean words I did not wish to cater. I have a problem with some of the things that you say to my wife, your words you wreak havoc in her life. She is very self-critical as it is without your many a hurtful word, you speak too much, more than her being can simply afford. When you tell her that she “doesn’t ever cook for her husband,"she already feels inadequate with thoughts in her head by the thousand. Your words are like daggers and they are highly destructive to her; you leave her in an emotional uproar and mental blur. It takes weeks, months, years, her lifetime for her to recover, being her husband these years, I have been quick to discover. I understand that this time of the year is hard for you, but that is really no excuse, I wish you knew. Over the past several years I have tried to encourage and uplift, Carefully using my words as a loving gift, so that your daughter can overcome, because life is really hard when all is said and done. If you continue to feed her discouragement and criticism, then all she will be fed with is cruddy cynicism, and sadly we will not be able to come over as much, please don't let this be a constant crutch. I truly desire for you both to have a good relationship with each other, I want you to be the best that you can be as mother and grandmother. My prayer is that there will be change and restoration. I hope that you will understand and take this into consideration. Thank you. Your Son-in-Law
By Rowan Finley 6 years ago in Poets
When the Song Ended
At the time, you couldn't understand what had consumed you the moment. The song had ended. A tear rolled down your face, a clear cold trail on your cheek. Your throat was burning from singing those verses so loudly, playing your heart out on that one song you were so passionate about. The people around you questioned whether or not they should ask you why you were crying the first place. Maybe they thought you were grieving after something, mourning a loss or practicing for some ominous cause. They could have no way to fathom that inside, your soul was burning.
By Mackenzie Guzek6 years ago in Poets
