performance poetry
Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
Be Your Own You
Who are you? Do you really even know or are you so wrapped up in what's going on around you that you've become just another brainwashed product of society?
Caleb JacksonPublished 6 years ago in PoetsExpeditions
Expeditions There are names for colors, the primary ones, and the new ones formed when the originals collide and spark and spew
Michael UguliniPublished 6 years ago in PoetsThe Man in the Room Part 2
It's been a week Nothing has been the same since I saw the figure Lurking at night The figure moves swiftly Fear has settled inside me
Lost DreamerPublished 6 years ago in PoetsWhisper
It happened a week ago Alone in the room just on the laptop Doing homework as usual When I could've sworn I heard my name being said
Lost DreamerPublished 6 years ago in PoetsBeep Beep
BEEP BEEP move out the way I'm zooming here and there Can't you see I have the right I'm a cripple in a chair It's you who should move over I've got places to go
Funny Little Town
There is a funny little town. Where ghost are hanging all around. The streets are empty and buildings are getting torn down.
Lisa ToltonPublished 6 years ago in PoetsMy Light Within
Feeling like I'm stuck in a bubble and can't breathe. In need of some fresh air but not the kind you breathe more like the kind your soul needs...
Kijuana JordanPublished 6 years ago in PoetsI Think You Should
I can see you, baby. I have a gift. I can see how you look at me and I can feel you when you’re not here. I can see the power I have over you and that’s all that I want.
Kiruina RrrrPublished 6 years ago in PoetsEverybody So...
EVERYBODY SO... Everybody so superficial, Love now days is only skin deep And that skin be caked in make-up So what's the deal yo?
Kiah WilkinsonPublished 6 years ago in PoetsTrue Love?
What is love? To me, it's just another four letter word. Liar. I still can't believe to this day I put all my trust into you, cheater. I seen the signs but, I ignored them naïve, but that's just me. When things get a little rocky I have a tenancy to kind of, hide the pain. Put all of my emotions in one and, store them away. My heart is slowly fading away. See, I've taken it out too many times and just... here, gave it away. Not thinking that my actions later on down the road in my life would be, a price to pay. But I guess that's just the price you pay for playing with a short wick and, letting the candle burn any kind of way. The end result to your actions, is letting the wax overtake the flame. Now there is no light, only darkness remains. I constantly catch myself asking, "well who is the one to blame?" Was it my insecurities that drove you away? Or was it your act of lust which shattered my trust? You acted as if I were a game you had to play. I've tried to throw you away but, it seems the pain had stayed and, stained the very core of my soul. Why is it I'm unable to let you go? So many tears tasted, sleepless nights with my pen gripped tight reciting these broken quotes to the ceiling in detest! I can still feel your words almost as if they were tattooed right on to my chest, and right through my chest is where you put it, the blade. In which I sharpened! Oh the shame that comes from feeling this way, I've drowned myself in my own thoughts and the only way to stay afloat is through this page. My muscles strain, I'm physically, emotionally and, mentally strained. I wish I could wrap this up and, give it away. I'd give it to you. So you can know and, understand these feelings too, but two wrongs don't make a right. Just because you hurt me, I don't want to hurt you too. That right there is the difference between you and I. I would have done anything under the sun to give you the stars and moon. You did everything you could to drive me away from you. What hurts the most, is how you can say that you love me but, at the same time hate me too. I remember what you said, your words I'll quote. "I'm so happy we are together and, what we're going through is hard but, it will only make is stronger in the end. Just remember I'm yours, forever and always, I love you baby." Well, if we were happy I must have missed the smiles and, if what we were going through was hard I guess it was just that easy for you to find an escape in the end and, obviously forever and always doesn't really mean always and forever I guess those were just words that you choose for the moment to make the emotions bend. I just wish I could have seen past that crooked smile and, them lust filed eyes, that twisted tongue of yours that spilled nothing but lies. I guess I could thank you, because it was your betrayal that lit a fire deep inside. I can now put the weight of my emotions on my pen and, let my ink do the crying. I'm done bleeding tears over you. You're not worth the amount of muscles it takes to form a tear to fall down my face, I'm throwing you away. There is just no place in my heart for you to stay anymore. The wounds are healed yet but my love seems sealed. The scars are gone though my trust is lost. Like any disaster there is relief. It's time to rebuild, to reach deep within myself to let go what once used to be a part of me, you.
Anthony MillerPublished 6 years ago in PoetsBeginning
Every moment plays out so differently in my head, every glance, every word, every touch is an embrace of lust. Every time I see him my heart races I’ve never been so nervous around someone I barely know, a stranger. When I feel his presence I can barely speak my stomach tightens and I can’t even look at his eyes. Ugh his eyes, his eyes sparkling so effortlessly as if they’re only meant to be seen by me. Me, another stranger he doesn’t know and never will? But why does it seem like he does? Although we’ve only exchanged no more then six words at a time why does it feel like he knows me, not like a friend like a lover. There is a calm awkwardness between us, an awkwardness that is almost peaceful. I can’t shake the feeling that I was meant to meet him, meant to see him, speak to him, know him. But then again I never did believe in fate? Or destiny? Did it even exist. Did things really happen by chance or did people really meet by ‘fate?’ I didn’t know if I was convinced but I knew that I was meant to look at him and he was meant to look at me—whatever that is I know it’s more then just a fantasy. Was what I was feeling even real? Did he even exist? I questioned whether my ‘memories’ were real or just the work of my imagination. I tried to convince myself that it was a reality and what we felt was true. And although we didn’t know it yet everything was about to change.
Four Years Old
I am four years old in the master bedroom of the Bothell house. I sit on the bed that is usually scattered with a crumbled comforter and my mother’s desire to stay asleep.
Celia HausskePublished 6 years ago in Poets