performance poetry
Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
Vex
Provoking every ounce of rage inside of me. Your voice kept grating me like a beehive droning over and over again. I still have the pentagram you drew for me. Your seances have failed because I am still here to haunt you. You used to call me a banshee while you were the ghost that kept tormenting me. We used exorcisms against each other but continued to aggravate one another in disbelief. I summoned the power of the seasons to punish you. Your selfish endeavors will outlast this damnation you wish upon me. You conjured spells to hurt me but didn't realize they would hurt you too. All of this will backfire because witchcraft isn't your strongest suit. I've mourned that Tuesday morning when you vanished, finally, into thin air. I've prayed for a reaping and ultimately, received a reckoning. All of your red flags are someone else's problem now. You didn't banish me. It was dissonance that had had enough and asked you to vacate. Unfulfillment wouldn't suffice but it was worth a shot. You kept triggering my hostility and it bred even more toxicity. Dysfunction made me a heretic of my own religion. Peace couldn't reach me with you in the way. I wanted to talk to fire but you wanted me to burn instead. It took a bit of magic to expel you from this reality but it finally worked. The lore will have a page dedicated to you and scum just like you. I have nothing left for you here. You can't provoke me anymore.
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Painted conversation-By Justin Lee LaFon
If I could paint a picture I'd rather not have me do it, if I paint it wrong it can last to only what I was pursuing. I want you to have that understanding, that colors I find are just a mess, and life inside,is like picking pieces of other colors offered off the ground and speaking them with my breath. but did the best I could, black and white defines the times that I might have overlooked, it makes me rush to look for colors they might of understood I speak what they wanna see because I know just what their thinking, a color spoken on the page , unspoken thoughts misunderstood that the mind has not forsaken
By Justin Lafon2 years ago in Poets
