Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
I do not love you like I say I do, yet I smile and laugh along the way, because if the truth is revealed to you my heart would not last for another day.
By Lizzy Roseabout a year ago in Poets
Tension grows, tongue flicks, Muscles tense - await the strike No response, too late. ====/==== Till next time, Calvin.
By Calvin Londonabout a year ago in Poets
Red Hair, Dark Heart Her hair a riot, fierce and free, a wildfire turned to thread. She breathes in smoke, exhales the stars,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Where Is the Safest Place in the World to Escape Nuclear War, and Can Anyone Survive It There is a question buried in every restless heart,
At last I reached the evening masque A lofty fête in which to bask In the highest circles fit to task Lords and ladies, all abounds
By Ian Readabout a year ago in Poets
Spirit in the Dark Night falls heavy, folding the world in its trembling hands. I walk in the woods yet no moon watches,
The Hangman By Maurice Ogden 1. Into our town the Hangman came Smelling of gold and blood and flame— And he paced our bricks with a diffident air
By Lou Holzabout a year ago in Poets
The Non-rhetorical Question: Do you align as stimulus or response? … Castration in figurative terms remains preferable to impotence
By The Dani Writerabout a year ago in Poets
Once, the night used to scare me the coldness of the shadows; haunting dreams that would keep me awake the echoes of lost souls to bare their teeth onto me
By Angel Adagioabout a year ago in Poets
The Lantern’s Glow The night arrives with gentle hands, It hums beneath the pumpkin light, The streets are stitched with laughter’s thread,
The Jigsaw Files In folders marked with fading dates, I store the ghosts of us. Laughter in compressed escapes, grief zipped in quiet trust.
The Road and the Child The road bends softly through the dusk, A golden line through purple dreams, The child walks slow, her shadow thin,
