Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
He failed in school, he failed in life, Rejections cut him sharp as knives. KFC said no, the police did too, Even Harvard turned him blue.
By Life Hopesabout a year ago in Poets
Introduction This is my sixty-sixth piece inspired by Angie Livingstone's inspirational artwork. I love the beautiful autumnal colours in this work.
By Mike Singleton đź’ś Mikeydred about a year ago in Poets
Society It really stinks Dumbass people with their kinks Quality not quantity…. They don’t have I got the winks Can’t be stooping down their level
By Haychie_Artistabout a year ago in Poets
Breath of Life I remember the quiet of your absence, how it settles in the room like heavy dust. I hold my hands to the hollow space,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
The golden hour arrives softly, like a secret whispered across the horizon, a tender pause between day and night, where shadows stretch but do not frighten.
By Saqib Ullahabout a year ago in Poets
At my table you will find bits and pieces; colorful as a bag of skittles For my favorite are the dull and mundane, dripping in rainbow
By PĹŤlani Monderen about a year ago in Poets
I sat for hours playing Bessie Smith on the piano. Title: Birthday Blues Psalms 49: A Twang of Wisdom and Feathered Protest
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
Children Should Be Taught Manners Children should be taught manners. It is not good to hear a child swear. A soft word is better than sharp words,
The Carnival of Love lights hum in the night air, faces pressed close in laughter, eyes catch sparks no one else sees, hands brush, linger longer than reason.
The Feather Holds a Universe Feather shines in a secret night, a thousand stars hide in its veins. Green light trembles against violet,
The Language of Hands They speak without tongues, soft syllables pressed in palms, a grammar of warmth, where fingers fold like paragraphs,
By Numan writesabout a year ago in Poets
Can I get my tickets here, And is anything good playing this afternoon? * My friends might bring beer (They told me they’d be here soon).
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Poets
