slam poetry
Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.
My Love With Her Crystal Stare
I have a lady, she is fair; her stare a crystal gaze And why looking deep into her eyes would trap you in amaze If milk and honey were under her tongue
Josephis K. WadePublished 2 months ago in PoetsLove Language
Listening to slow jams in other languages I don’t speak their language But they hear all that languishes in my heart They cut through the pain
Atomic HistorianPublished 2 months ago in PoetsThe atrocious contradiction of existence
The atrocious contradiction of existence How ironically does existence glare at our agony Drawing its muse in the hours of our ecstasy
Hridya SharmaPublished 2 months ago in PoetsF*ck off.
We come into this world soiling ourselves and rest under that same shitty soil once the lights go out for good.. When you see me do not ask me "What do you do for a living" I exist in my mortal shell for the time being, nothing more nothing less.. Careers come & go.. Money is earnt money is spent. Love is gained and love is lost.. Once was young now is old.. Obtain my drift ?..
Armand SlayerPublished 2 months ago in PoetsThe B in LGBTQ+
Belonging at last, In a binary - A spectrum of hearts, not merely two parts, Bisexuality whispers of freedom. The borders of gender do not confine love.
Charlene Ann Mildred BarrogaPublished 2 months ago in PoetsA Particular Shade of Love
My understanding of Love developed much like a photograph pinned up in a dark room. I was a blank slate, poised to be printed with the marks of love and life however the world saw fit.
Obsidian WordsPublished 2 months ago in PoetsI'm Tired
I'm tired. I'm tired as if the marrow of my bones are recalling the last time they knew the sunlight. I'm tired, like my eyes could weep the tears of waterfalls long dried.
Obsidian WordsPublished 2 months ago in PoetsCheap Conversation
The words curled from her lips like smoke, Bitter like dark chocolate with enough sweet tang To override the sour flavour hanging in the air, in the words,
Silver Serpent BooksPublished 2 months ago in PoetsPlumbers never go out of business.
Too much money not enough.. Too little money not enough .. Joining the pack of rodents on the commute to the cheese.. If the cheese is already provided on the platter we would lack the hunger and motivation to move. Can't win either way.
Armand SlayerPublished 2 months ago in PoetsOops side down
I don’t know what this is about It is the worst poem Without a doubt In my mind To be alone can be sublime But to feel alone
Atomic HistorianPublished 2 months ago in PoetsA Scar on My Hearts Ears
There is a scar on my heart’s ears It’s from all the years of abuse I got used to It makes it hard to hear when someone says
Atomic HistorianPublished 2 months ago in PoetsSymphony of the Earth
In forests deep where sunlight plays, Nature orchestrates its grand ballet. The rustle of leaves, a gentle sway, A timeless dance, night to day.