Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
"The Commission" Cain 2021 "… See my hands and look at my feet It's okay if it's hard to believe I have faith you will do greater things
By Colleen Walters2 years ago in Poets
Let me take you on a trip And camp among the stars; Branches fanned above us As we lie beside our cars And listen to the night sounds
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Poets
Busy Passers By No Time To Stop So many people, all in a rush, No time to talk, just push and shush. No one looks, no one see’s
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 years ago in Poets
quietly I sit breathing in breathing out as I listen listen as the rain taps the window rhythmically persistently quietly I sit
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
I’ve been burned, I’ve been scarred, But those flames didn’t break me, they made me hard. They tried to consume me, to make me bend,
By The Content Crafter2 years ago in Poets
The world does not pause for bruises, nor whisper soft apologies for the weight. It watches, indifferent, as dust rises from a body pressed into the cold earth.
By Antoni De'Leon2 years ago in Poets
**I. The Map of Beginnings** Listen, child, the world is wide, A stormy sea, a rising tide. No ready path, no golden lane,
By EMRANUZZAMAN2 years ago in Poets
## Top 12 Poems on the Inevitable Dance of Endings and New Beginnings Life is a perpetual rhythm of closing chapters and opening doors. Endings, often tinged with wistfulness or sorrow, are invariably followed by the promise and sometimes trepidation of new beginnings. This fundamental cycle, mirrored in nature's seasons and our personal journeys, has long been a profound theme in poetry. Here are twelve poems that explore the complex beauty, challenge, and hope inherent in these transitions:
By pestosol2 years ago in Poets
It is the Keeper Who keeps the garden’s key Where all the secrets You cannot see. ~~~ Squirrels, birds, and rabbits All meet the Keeper
By Susan Fourtané 2 years ago in Poets
Tomorrow runs; yesterday hides. Today is the only time you're alive. Most of refuse to accept that simple fact Instead we anticipate the future and attack the past
By Kevin Newton2 years ago in Poets
She sits in a room without the weight of others A mother - lost in thought about the life she’s found before her For her - its construction’s a mystery or destiny or maybe
People don’t care, not the way you dream, Their hearts are like rivers, pulling you back downstream. You wait for a sign, a whisper, a glance,
By Sandeep Sahoo2 years ago in Poets
