Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
The Pen Poem
She is my temptress My Partner In Mischief's Prison When I grab her I'm at it like a bad habit And i feel like I'm flying with high impossibilities
I'm a genius but I can't formulate what happened between us Everything was cool up until You made me look like a fool So what am I supposed to do when you were the one I go to?
a letters dance
In the quiet of the classroom's hush, Knowledge blooms, a gentle lush. Students delve into books and lore, Seeking wisdom, wanting more.
Certain habits keep on coming Have to stay strong yeah no lie…. In my circle no squared minds Upon myself I do rely…. I’m one of one & I ain’t them
the call that reminds you
call after call complaint after complaint deliveries delayed packages destroyed audio civil unrest nothing prepares you for
"Echoes of Lost Love"
In the silence of the night, I hear your name, Echoes of a lost love, lighting the flame. The stars whisper secrets, in an eternal language,
I’ve never been too good at writing in my own voice, In fact, if I had a choice, I don’t even know what I’d sound like. I spent a long time chasing this identity,
a transcendent inquiry
How is it like? How is it like watching the twilight of an age, the war of a life already waged? How is it like falling like a star, pains of a past gone together with its scar?
So picture this: The city throws its hats in puddles; They do not sink but float. February thunderstorms, whirlwinds and blizzards;
Echoes of the Chessboard: A Poetic Journey through Strategy and Strife
In the realm where kings and queens do reign, On squares of black and white domain, A battle rages, fierce and true, Where every move unveils anew.
Write .. WRITE !
They say not to let your emotions control you in the heat of a moment... We can all agree to that to some level... I say hone those emotions find a quite spot and write... WRITE.
An Ode to Misery
An ode to our dear friend, misery: Life is a monotonous drudgery, a sinuous, sentient maze that reveals sinister revelations, conniving contradictions to convince you life is worth living. It continuously creates credible, wondrous creatures, then tells you something sensuous and sensational is around the corner, you just need to go on a little farther, live a little longer, have another glass of wine. But life is deceptive, because something better rarely ever is. Then life repeats itself, repeats its beautiful lies, and we continue to believe. We are all just pendulous puppets of life’s power trip, as it controls our plight and misery with a smile, pulling our strings every chance it gets. Your equanimity wont matter, life’s treacherous lessons will leave you tremulous, alone and melancholy. Life will treat you churlishly, because life is miserable. Life will drag you into its trenches and dig its heinous claws into you, never allowing you to escape, not until deaths final surrender.