slam poetry
Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.
Reverberations of Sunrise
In the quiet of sunrise's hug, Where shadows dance in elegance, Stirs a material unadulterated and brilliant, Painted by the fingers of dusk.
Kamran AlamPublished 2 days ago in PoetsPreservation
If there is no venerator for myself Then I shall be my own riveting riveter To reorient To that which I resonate with As continuing down the same pathway perverts
Thavien YliasterPublished 3 days ago in PoetsServed on a Platter
Note: this piece is targeted at a specific and very frustrating situation I had to navigate this past week and is also meant to educate.
K. J. NeithercuttPublished 3 days ago in PoetsEclipse
Electronically vivid planted in the sky, Choosing to be the courier for a unique change up high, Lament to everyone’s eyes
HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)Published 3 days ago in PoetsRain
The universe drops rain to communicate with the terrestrial inhabitants. Using a multidimensional language to enlighten us about the nature
subjection
Author's Note: This poem's subject is sexual assault and might be triggering. Reader discretion is advised. _____________________________
Christy MunsonPublished 3 days ago in Poets- Top Story - April 2024
Futility
I am an unwilling spectator, Eyes magnetised to the crucible Unable to withdraw. I watch as you rant and rage,
Obsidian WordsPublished 4 days ago in Poets Don’t call us dead
Standing behind the wall, forbidden to look tall, To be the dainty taste for a man’s unsatiated hunger, The tale of a woman’s right to emancipation has seen it all.
Hridya SharmaPublished 4 days ago in PoetsFairytale Love
In my chambers I played awake for while, I was wrapped inside your magic Enguifeel in a fantasy Where the fairytale ending
HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)Published 4 days ago in PoetsPain
Pain What is pain? Pain is only feeling the rain On a sunny day Pain is being alone in a crowded room Pain is not having them around
Atomic HistorianPublished 4 days ago in PoetsThe Voice
Inspiration can come from anywhere But the voice always comes Sometimes it’s a roar Sometimes it’s a hum Sometimes it comes when I’m too busy with life to write
Atomic HistorianPublished 4 days ago in PoetsIn One Minute
Before I met you. I was a red flower, blooming and dancing in the sun, I was always happy and having fun; I had hopes, dreams and I enjoyed living,
Carol TownendPublished 4 days ago in Poets