Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
There is a storage on the top of the congregation and lines prompting a little storm cellar on the wall. There are two observers, one an instructor and the other a Jew.
By bishnu prasad4 months ago in Poets
Ramadan Is round the corner Feds came In & took the burner Wasn’t guilty yeah at all Cos I waited for the call At the time my whole demeanour
By Haychie_Artist4 months ago in Poets
Miracles happen In realms where miracles unfold with each dawn's tender embrace, Unseen blossoms unfurl, in clandestine grace.
By Munazza Sultana4 months ago in Poets
In the garden of shadows, a secret dance, Whispers weave a tapestry of chance. Silent echoes, a moonlit trance, A symphony of twilight, a fleeting romance.
By F.R. Gautvik4 months ago in Poets
The music isn't as harsh as it should be And the grating flavor of the Marlboro Reds are sweet Besides the fizz of Cherry Monster,
By Silver Serpent Books4 months ago in Poets
Why are you looking for me? You left me, remember? Yet thoughts of me bedevil you Is it guilt? Is it remorse? ~~~~~ You try to catch my eye
By Dharrsheena Raja Segarran4 months ago in Poets
Under the cover of the night, where the stars dance, And the moon, in its splendor, advances to the lovers. Two souls meet, in silence, in balance,
By Hendrik SancheZ4 months ago in Poets
Where is four Oh, it is locked in a drawer Waiting to be opened How long will it stay there We will just have to wait and see
By Atomic Historian4 months ago in Poets
Licking at the facade Worshiping a nameless god Only to realize All efforts will be forgot Break your back all you want
Minutes after the Super Bowl win, Mahomes celebrated with a big grin. Eavesdropping by hot-dropped microphones, The MVP doesn't want trips or rhinestones.
By Babs Iverson4 months ago in Poets
In a world where words meander like a gentle stream, Speaking merely skims the surface, while embodiment gleams. To tread in others' shoes, a soulful quest,
I'm over this! I swear, I'm so over it. About five seconds from starting a little fit. It's like everyone is waiting for my combustion, the fall of a curtain.
By J. K. Anderson4 months ago in Poets