performance poetry
Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
Beauty of Imperfection
In gardens wild where tangled shadows play, The blooms, though flawed, are vibrant in their hue; Each petal whispers secrets of the day, And shows us all that life can be askew. A crooked path leads to a sunlit glade, Where laughter mingles with the rustling leaves; Yet even there, beneath the bright cascade, The mark of time is etched on boughs and eaves. What’s perfect shines but fleetingly at best; It’s in the cracks we find the stories told. A heart laid bare reveals its truest quest— To learn that love is gentle with the bold. Embrace each flaw, for in them lies our grace; In every fault, we find a warm embrace.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Poets
Shadows' Whisper
In corners deep, where silence breathes and sighs, The shadows stretch their fingers, soft and sly. They linger close, as secrets weave their lies, And beckon forth the dreams that dare to fly. The moonlight spills like silver on the floor, Its glow a timid dance with shades of night. Yet in the dark, there's more than we explore— A world unseen, where phantoms find their light. With every creak of wood beneath our feet, A shiver winds its way through spine and heart; For lurking here are fears we can’t defeat— Old memories that pierce us like a dart. Yet still we breathe within this twilight's calm, Embracing both the dread and sweet allure; For in the dark resides a hidden balm— A place where all our fractured souls endure. So when you feel those whispers wrap around, Know they are but reflections of your mind; In darkness deep is clarity profound— The truth emerges only when we're blind.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Poets
Whispers of the Unrighted
In shadows where the sunlight fades, A heart beats heavy, burdened by shades. Whispers curl like smoke in the air, Echoing secrets too dark to share. Promises tangled in cobwebbed dreams, Fractured hopes unravel at their seams. Crimson stains on a tattered past, The weight of choices that hold us fast. Through hollow halls of forgotten cries, Lies linger thick as fog that denies. Each step a tremor on this cursed ground, Where echoes of laughter have long drowned. It’s not right—this silence that screams, This twisted dance of broken schemes. Innocence lost to a shadowy blight, As day succumbs to encroaching night. Yet through the darkness, a flicker remains; A spark ignites amidst sorrow's chains. For in despair's grip where hope takes flight, We rise from ashes—not bound by plight.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Poets
Check In
In the mirror's glint, a soft whisper calls, "Are you there?" it hums, as shadows dance, Echoes of yesterday linger in small stalls— Where dreams once bloomed in a tentative glance. Fingers trace the lines on a weathered face, Each wrinkle a story inked by time’s deft hand; Moments lost and found in this fragile space, An ephemeral map of where we stand. The ticking clock sighs with each fleeting beat, A metronome marking the pulse of the heart; Between breaths taken and words left to greet— There lies an invitation to play our part. Silence swells like tide pools beneath my skin, Eager for connection but wary of the storm; I check in with myself—beneath chaos’ din, To embrace all that’s broken yet still warm. With open palms I gather fragmented light, Turning shards into art with tender care; What was once chaotic is now painted bright— Each piece reflecting love’s intricate flare. So let us pause amidst our hurried spins, A moment seized where vulnerability wins; In this check-in of souls beneath vast skies— We find ourselves anew through heartfelt ties.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Poets
Mischievous Rabbits
There once was a rabbit named Lou, Who danced in the fields where he grew. With a hop and a skip, He'd take every trip, To nibble on greens fresh with dew. His fur was as soft as the mist, In the dawn's gentle light, he’d persist. With eyes big and bright, He'd frolic in flight, A treasure of joy none could resist. But one day while chasing a bug, He tumbled and landed with a thud! Though bruised on his side, He laughed and replied, "Just part of my life’s little flood!"
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Poets
Fires Within
In the quiet dawn where dreams take flight, A whisper stirs, igniting the night. Ambition dances on the edge of sight, With every heartbeat, it burns so bright. Through valleys deep and mountains high, I’ve felt the weight of time slip by. Yet in my soul, a fervent cry— “Rise up! Reach for the endless sky!” Each step I take upon this path, Is forged through fire and tempered wrath. With every challenge that I unmask, I find my strength within each task. The shadows loom; they dare to bind, But I refuse to leave hope behind. For in the struggle, wisdom’s mined— In each misstep, new paths designed. So let them doubt; let silence reign; For I have danced with joy and pain. My heart beats loud—a wild refrain— “I got that ambition,” a fierce hurricane! With vision clear and spirit bold, I chase the dreams that won’t grow old. For life’s not measured in silver or gold— It’s passion's spark that can’t be controlled.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Poets
Sign of Betrayal
In the garden where shadows creep, Among thorns that cut and weep, I planted trust in fertile ground, But malice grew where love was found. You wore a mask of tender grace, With every smile, a sly embrace; Your laughter danced like silver light, Yet hid the dagger poised to bite. Each whispered promise turned to dust, In echoes of betrayed trust. The roots entwined in darkness' grasp, What once was sweet now chokes and gasps. A wraith-like fog wraps 'round my heart, The taste of venom tears apart; You painted skies with hues so bright— Now tempest storms consume the night. I scorn the memories we shared, For every moment left me bared; A ghostly figure haunts my mind— The friend I loved now cruel and blind. So here I stand amidst the gloom, Beneath this weighty cloak of doom; With fury fierce as winter's frost, I mourn for what I thought was lost. And in this darkened garden's core, Where wrath has settled evermore— I'll weave my pain into a crown, A twisted throne of thorns renown
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Poets
