performance poetry
Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
Since There Aren’t Enough Poems About Black Men (Part II)
Beloved Brotha Man my belief in obsidian sun Resistance fighter regal and safe hands for falling crown Calmly states “No Black Kween then no Black King—We are indivisible—We are one”
The Dani WriterPublished 4 months ago in PoetsI Hate Snow
It’s cold It’s cold It freaking snowed This weather is old Time for it to go Nothing is controlled No way snow will be rolled
Mother CombsPublished 4 months ago in PoetsSeek Truth
Don't let a day go by without showing your truth Live your life full of curious energy, do you have all the answers? Giving your heart away isn't it, embrace your power
Mason DarniellePublished 4 months ago in PoetsAll the light we cannot see.
All the light we cannot see. Embellishing in the moments of sadness, enraged by the atrocities of life, We often comprehend our reasons to be alive. Do you often sit by the window sill and ponder what true happiness decipher to? What is the essence of absolute joy? Can it be broken down into a simplistic perspective of experiences that we live through or is joy synonymous with money and materialistic realities? I often sit down and wander memory lane, to behold the precious moments of delight, where I felt truly happy.
Hridya SharmaPublished 4 months ago in PoetsKIND HEART
In twilight's tender, fading glow, Where the whispered winds begin to flow. A canvas painted with the hues profound, Nature's symphony, a tranquil sound.
To the ones who grew up earlier
To the ones who grew up earlier A part of my being always hurts for the ones who were always deemed to be too mature and too deep for their age. Home is often associated with our comfort zone, the abode that stalls our dejected sighs and embraces our dreams to fly high. But more often than not home is a place where a lot of us wish to escape from, to a place where peace embosoms the frantic cry of our chaotic wails and where the heart blooms and does not turn pale.
Hridya SharmaPublished 4 months ago in PoetsMetamorphosis
She expresses her mind, in the rarity of her eyes, the ounce of the world you would find. Strength is often expressed in gallant notions in stories and poems, such as the existence of tenacity of the core to endure, fight and combat external realms. I have read infinite poems that portray the beauty of a girl who is in love and is fiercely radiant in the emotion that drives her to the edge of eternity. The beauty of humanness is not only in the radiance of joy or sanguine emotions that emit light and shine. The luminance of moonlight comes from the moon adorned in its darkness that radiates from the beauty of the wounds and scars that it beholds on its surface.
Hridya SharmaPublished 4 months ago in Poets- Content Warning
Anarchy
Anarchy Bloody, horrifying anarchy Cries of death Demonic laughter Empires blazing into ashes Freedom's an unattainable dream
Miscommunication Trope
Angrily pacing in the living room Believing the worst based on what I just saw Complete realization that this is our doom Didn't they warn me he would break my heart's laws? Eyes used to sweep up and down better than a broom Forgot the worst of his previous flaws: Generously spending time in many girls' bedrooms How could I allow myself to think he was different now, ha Ignorance is bliss until it leads you to your gloom Just wish it didn't lead to me rubbing my eyes raw Killing the dream now that you would be my groom Let the wolf that is you blow down this love made of straw Maybe it time to bury our future in its tomb
Alexandria StanwyckPublished 4 months ago in PoetsForgotten Melodies
The violin weeps with melodic cries. The piano is dripping dust from its untouched keys. A voice that brought you so far,
Angel AdagioPublished 4 months ago in PoetsMaterial Girl
Material girl So caught up in the world Your life and outlook make me hurl Self-indulgent Caring for no one else Just a little material girl
Atomic HistorianPublished 4 months ago in PoetsNo One
I do not scream or yelp I do not call out when injured Because I know There is no one here to help Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
Atomic HistorianPublished 4 months ago in Poets