performance poetry

Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.

Don’t Chase, Build on Vocal
Don’t Chase, Build on Vocal I don’t chase not love, not friends not ghosts with half a promise grin I plant my feet, I build, I tend
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
The Burning Mask. Content Warning.
The face I've painted over my own... throughout this torturous course of time, is not of conceit. It simply matches its surroundings,
By JMabout a year ago in Poets
A Flame Still Burning
As I reach the realization that I need to commit to, "committing less" and again, as it turns out... my plate has never been more full‐
By JMabout a year ago in Poets
Transcorporeal
Electric rocks hallucinating in vain To further the destruction of the primate brain The veils of reality being burned To turn the world into a paradise of false profits
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Never Empty.
One of my favorite things to watch is videos of people exploring abandoned places. It's something I've always enjoyed and something I'd love to do myself. As I sat watching a few today, I started getting some thoughts, and I wanted to write them down before I forgot them all. I hope I’m able to get the main points of my thoughts across in a way that makes sense.
By April Kirby.about a year ago in Poets
Beyond Petroleum
Beyond Petroleum Beyond Patronising Deepwater Horizon Greenwashing Surprising? No. With PR men, Their bold words, dirtier hands
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
Forgive My... "Pride"
Pride?... Sure... Let's call the disgust I experience when I look in the mirror, "pride." What my eyes see in that mirror is only the opposite of their lust,
By JMabout a year ago in Poets
The Last Evening
Of the lively season of spring, this is the last evening. Of the verses on my lips, today marks the last one. Of the pen in my hands, today is the last evening.
By Zakir Ullahabout a year ago in Poets
I Am Still Becoming . AI-Generated.
I Am Still Becoming They told me growth was beautiful. But they forgot to mention it would also be lonely, and painful,and slow.
By hammad khanabout a year ago in Poets
POEM - Gathered Radiance
Not the singular, blinding lance of noon, That stabs the eye and bleaches stone to bone, But something softer, deeper, whispered soon
By Jacky Kapadiaabout a year ago in Poets
burning bridges
I started with burning my bridges not that I was rich with bridges in the first place. With an unease a heart squeeze
By Belleabout a year ago in Poets
Fancy o Sick (or: A Brief History of My Innards)
dirt dirt stained grained she spins me round, ingrained and restrained like a rotisserie chicken derailed, resailed in a dirty, rat-infested
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets