slam poetry
Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.
Vast Earths
Vast Earths! A boundless number twists Around their suns, loaded with vigorous life, Rotating islands, with insatiable animals overflowing,
Intimate
All I want is to be intimate with you To know all your thoughts and feelings To know the real you To see your scars And remind you of how beautiful you are
Atomic HistorianPublished 5 days ago in Poets200 Million
In an age when carnivores clashed with herbivores, the planet was ruled by a vast race of reptilian dinosaurs. Dramatic battles raged across the continent, permitting the
too damn sloppy
too damn sloppy just too messy all that emotion flowing through blood, sweat and tears seeping into my soul as my heart and brain
Paul StewartPublished 5 days ago in PoetsThe vice of a pretentiously peaceful abode.
The vice of a pretentiously peaceful abode. Abundance in its beauty, the truth of innocence it holds, Nativetey oozing in every breath of its ounce, the beauty of childhood beholds.
Hridya SharmaPublished 5 days ago in PoetsRaptor Raps
Just in case you’re wondering, I’m not a rapper. I’m the carnivorous king of Jurassic Park, a velociraptor. I don’t care what other predator stings in the jungle. I’m the meat eating king of the jungle.
Joe PattersonPublished 6 days ago in PoetsShoutout to My Parasocial Elders
Shoutout to My Parasocial Elders, to my Community Healers whom I’ve never met. ⠀ Shoutout to Mimi Zhu who taught me to
R.C. TaylorPublished 6 days ago in PoetsPrehistoric Sex-Ed
Could a Tyrannosaurus truly have sex, with such little arms and broad chest? Could it comfortably mount its steed long enough to spread its seed?
The Fire'
Flames that dance, like tongues of gold, Warming the heart, and stories untold. Crackling wood, like nature's symphony,
Isra SaleemPublished 6 days ago in PoetsJurassic Queen
New York Velly, the prima donna Velociraptor, was photographed exiting a Manhattan chiropractor. Alarmed by her attempted secrecy, the concerned paparazzi
Ndagukumbuye (I miss you)
writers eat me alive they use me up like a wasted, slaughtered chicken They use me up until a pretty picture is presented Writers use me up like an artist’s toil They wrap colors around a sea of blood
Melissa IngoldsbyPublished 7 days ago in PoetsJurassic Prison
I’m a dinosaur trying to escape my master’s prison. You call it Jurassic Park, I call it Jurassic Prison. From the moment I was born they threw the book at me. Now I sit where all the human tourist come to look at me.
Joe PattersonPublished 7 days ago in Poets