performance poetry
Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
Canadian Tuxedo
Introduction The Canadian tuxedo, aka jeans and a denim jacket or shirt, has remained a fashion statement since it was first coined in 1951. After a long day hunting, American singer and actor Bing Crosby checked in at the Vancouver Hotel but was denied entry due to his double denim attire. Crosby’s outfit was perceived as too shabby for such grand surroundings. Luckily the bellhop promptly pointed out that this was no ordinary guest and Crosby was swiftly let in. Levi’s immediately grasped this delicious PR opportunity and created a custom denim tuxedo jacket for Crosby, complete with a red corsage, coupled with their signature 501 jeans. Sewn within the interior of the jacket lay a leather patch that read, ‘Notice to All Hotel Men’, stitching the course of fashion history forever.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 4 months ago in Poets
I C A R U S. Top Story - July 2026.
I don't think Icarus laughed as he fell, But wept so violently at the injustice Of being brought down for excitement That the ants on the ground mistook it For the kind of arrogant laughter they Expected to bubble from his mouth. I think he realized it was a lose-lose Halfway up when the clouds dissolved And the beautiful, empty atmosphere Spread its dark, wide wings of blue. The stars were too vivid and the moon, Far too small to find any comfort. Icarus must've known when he turned Toward the wide world of flashing blue And saw nothing but jeering expressions That the flames devouring his wings Were going to be the death of him. He must've known he was falling. I think Icarus knew that the world had Nothing but an obvious hatred for the Lofty eagerness of his spirit and smile The way it liked to dance with the stars Tempted the sun to make love to him And irritated the entire world below. Icarus must have wept when he peered Out of the sky itself like a god, like a star , And seen nothing but a cold ocean of deceit Pooling in the jealousy eyes of one hundred Lovers laughing as he fell, wringing themselves Dry on the pleasure of watching his doom. What is so funny about a man who only Wanted to soar through the sky and touch The beautiful edges of the thing that warms Soil and sand and souls and casts gold Across tree leaves and tea leaves floating In a teacup like Icarus across currents of air? I would have wept if I looked out over a sea Of souls bound to mine with braided strings Made of grass and words of eternal compassion Only them burning in their eyes, ignited by sadism. So there is no way that Icarus laughed as he fell. Icarus wept and the world pretended it was laughter.
By Silver Daux4 months ago in Poets
Edge Shelf Incident
Content fell on floor; it might’ve had some lure. It sat on the edge of the shelf, and I was called by the Siren friend. Content fell on floor. I opened the fridge with Herculean force. I stood in the magnet blip as the spaghetti whipped its hair back and forth. Content fell on the floor. I hope you don’t pour rage on top of the cure. But for the love of shelves, don’t balance food on the Lotus edge. Because content fell on floor. I had just lifted weights, but that is not why your system failed. The fridge doesn’t know its strength. When I overhear you asking for the spaghetti trail, I hide behind my door. Content fell on the floor.
By Caitlin Charlton4 months ago in Poets
