Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
it is strange how certain memories spark a feeling inside which makes them feel real again. finding the perfect word for such an experience feels feeble.
By Alanah Conlay2 years ago in Poets
How many more times?... will I be told that Life is a gift‐ as if I don't already know. How much longer?... must this "game of survival" continue‐
By JM2 years ago in Poets
Since childhood, I knew I wasn’t pretty. I knew I wasn’t like those other beautiful girls in my neighborhood and in my school who were frequently praised and adored by anyone who saw them,
By Nanash2 years ago in Poets
my mind is a warehouse of remembered regrets and forgotten dreams of past mistakes and forsaken ideals where my wretched
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know what I’m feeling. And that alone is healing. * Words spill like light from trembling hands,
By Marvelous Michael2 years ago in Poets
Depression Swallow The Storm Depression is not for a man, that’s a woman’s weight, they say. Men are strong, made to stand like stone,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 years ago in Poets
For Hire 1) SEEKING BOAT CAPTAIN FOR “FISHING CHARTER” LEAVING BISCAYNE AT MIDNIGHT, RETURNING TOMORROW AT 4AM: Knowledge of international waters, the Gulf Stream, and celestial navigation a must. Contacts within the Coast Guard a plus. "Cargo," watercraft, and passport, provided. Pays $20K, cash, on return to port.
By Chris Z2 years ago in Poets
"Yavahan" - Not for my gold. Put out the fake teeth like a cocoon Exploding like a quarry in the middle of the day There is no clothes to cover the body
By Rohitha Lanka2 years ago in Poets
1.Mold me from moon dust,shape my soul within your hands,break me, build again. 2.Splinters of our past,scattered whispers in the dark,you still breathe in me.
By PSYGENIUS2 years ago in Poets
War Shot Down R.I.P. It fell without a warning from the sky. A silent shard through sullen clouds, a metal bird unfeathered,
I say "pa merak" to people a lot, meaning don’t worry in Albanian, with Turkish roots. As if I don’t want them to worry about anything.
By Daniela Gjopalaj2 years ago in Poets
The soldier died in war, his mother could take no more, She died of a broken heart, left hollow to the core. The flag was folded, laid with care,
