Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
The Path That Leads to Nowhere I took the path that no one claims with broken signs and borrowed names a track worn down by boots and rain
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
"Take care of all of your memories, said Nick For you cannot relive them" - Bob Dylan ~ Scarlet skies fill my eyes with wonder, hope, and absolute horror
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
The Menopause I wake in sweat, not from a dream, just fire beneath my skin my bones have learned to moan at night my nerves are wearing thin
Me and my heart often sit together in the quiet of the night, Like two old friends—tired of the world, but still not done speaking. I look at it, it feels me. I stay silent, and yet—it always breaks down and speaks.
By Solene Hartabout a year ago in Poets
I am night You, you are the sun I am not even the moon More of a voracious black hole A collapsing reminder Of a universe in decay
By K.B. Silver about a year ago in Poets
Slumber's Absence has come to visit me... I stand helpless as I watch Hope walk away, I know what intense restlessness is soon to follow‐
By JMabout a year ago in Poets
The Mirror Only Broke When It Seen Your Face It sat on the wall like it always had, plain silver frame, a little bit sad corner chipped from a fall last spring
The Wind Came The wind came, hitting the UK with a force with strength that shocked. Not a tornado, but stronger. The sea overflowed to the land,
The Tree he killed us with He didn’t just carve our names on it he buried my broken heart in the severed roots and in the silence I rot
Beneath the vault where silent stars convene, And seasons turn with purpose, sharp and keen, There lies a plot no earthly deed can claim,
By Jacky Kapadiaabout a year ago in Poets
Step 1. Wake before the birds. Forget your name for seven breaths. Let the silence between them shape your outline. Step 2. Leave your phone on the nightstand.
By Cadmaabout a year ago in Poets
There are nights you don’t talk about— The ones where sleep feels like betrayal. When silence screams in forgotten tones,
By Umar Aminabout a year ago in Poets
