Arts + Entertainment

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Rain
Rain is a beautiful thing, Don’t get me wrong. In fact, It’s raining now, And has been all night long. The rain gets louder as it pours down,
By Ghost Writer8 years ago in Poets
Writer's Reign
Ink flows like the blood in my veins, my hands ache from the writer's reign. The feelings that swirl from the pen, never feign.
By Brandi Espy8 years ago in Poets
'The Stone Roses' vs 'Definitely Maybe'
Two of the greatest [debut] albums ever released within five years of each other. Both religiously Mancunian at heart and equally as seminal as one another; it really has been the question to divide all ardent indie music fans ever since '94.
By Danny Hatton8 years ago in Beat
Broken Heart
How do you heal a lost heart? How do you mend the broken pieces? How do you stop the shedding tear? How do you stop the memories from overflowing?
By Kedisha Rowe8 years ago in Poets
To Break
an infinity before you. yet you feel trapped in the past? there you stood, sure you’d never go back to that place. that place you can’t associate yourself with even though
By . .8 years ago in Poets
Pocket Hole
They say that a coin has two sides But it's more like top and bottom One side has your head so high The other makes you feel rotten
By Gwapo Mystizo8 years ago in Poets
Tombstone
My body is like a tombstone. Like all of the bodies that have left me. Like all of the me’s that have left me. All of the me’s are dead. Some haven’t even been buried yet, some haven’t been saved, some are 6 feet deep trying to crawl their way back out. I can feel the hands crawling up my throat and I cough up dirt. What do you follow when your heart is in a grave? I chisel RIP into my hips and no blood comes out. I wonder if that means I am the body waiting to be buried. I cremate myself so the wind will take me where I need to go. But now I am in multiple places, lost in California and Wisconsin. Stuck on a plane and inside a bathroom stall in Denver. In a meadow far away and taken under by ocean tides. I wonder if there’s a new and better me somewhere else, whole and happy. I wonder if she found our heart. I wonder what she decided. I wonder if she bleeds. I hope she bleeds but I hope she never finds out if she does. I hope I reach my final form before dying. I hope I am not stuck as this dust storm. I hope this dust storm is not my death, because that’s what it feels like. If this is my death, please make sure the rest of the bodies get buried. Don’t confuse those bodies for me, I already had funerals for them long ago. Have my funeral on top of a hill where the wind is strongest so you can hear my voice whispering. Go where there are lots of dead leaves so I can write you a message. Do not cry, for I am already drowning in an ocean somewhere. Do not give me flowers, because this is not beautiful and I don’t want to watch another thing die. Simply hang up the wind chimes, and listen.
By Sophia Maciel8 years ago in Poets
Mic Check One Two - My Observations From Attending Local Showcases. Top Story - October 2017.
In one way or another I have been a part of the Tampa Bay music scene since 2001. Because of this involvement, I find myself at plenty of open mics and showcase. Often I am asked to judge or critique the participants, something I like to do. I feel that it is a way to help some up and coming performers grow in their craft. After attending a few of these I started to notice certain patterns...and not the good kind either. So with the hopes of helping a few more up and coming artist I present you seven tips to improve your stage performance:
By Angel Soto8 years ago in Beat