slam poetry

Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.

  • B Day
    Published 2 years ago
    Mess

    Mess

    "I am a mess”
  • Isabel Siobhan
    Published 2 years ago
    Cliffsides

    Cliffsides

    There are times when I feel like I’ve forgotten how to be human
  • Wyld Tha Bard
    Published 2 years ago
    Worth

    Worth

    How much does a life cost?!?!
  • Anonymous Writer
    Published 2 years ago
    She Wonders Why...

    She Wonders Why...

    This is something for all you girls or guys, depending who is reading this, that are struggling with a relationship, friendship, or a crush. I mixed three raps by one of my favorite rappers into one and I made it into a writing type of thing. I think it is very helpful because it got me through my problems. It just reminds me I'm a bad bitch and I shouldn't let someone break me that easily. Hopefully it does the same for you...
  • Alexa Troche Rodriguez
    Published 2 years ago
    Grasp

    Grasp

    “I always said I would let my heart bleed over the right track but I’ve let it bleed over a couple of tears and that’s just a matter of facts. Because the heart mourns even what we don’t need back. And the mind is distracted, so who can decipher that. I cop a plea with my heart and beg it to let me play my part. But see it’s too far gone. From a million reasons, it has none. Stumbling. Mumbling. The bottles are done. But I’m trying to give her the best of me or maybe just the rest of me. Because I can’t figure out how many pieces are missing. I’m not whole, are you listening? Sometimes I want to take flight and be as majestic as a dove but I can’t leave her behind because even broken I deserve her love. So who do I trust when my success is a must? When everyone is caught up in bullshit and lust? When I put myself aside for most, yet when I need them to help me recover, they are as good as a ghost. My brain is stuck in an endless loop of memories and fear. I try everyday to convince myself the end of that is near. I’m the glue. I need to be strong. Even when your fight just seems wrong. I stand up and smile and go that extra mile. It’s what I do. I can’t quit even tho I’ll admit some days it seems like the perfect solution. My life out here just seems like a perfect illusion. How can paradise not be right? All these disappointments are just blurring my sight. So much so that I swear I just might... no no no. I’ve worked too hard. Those thoughts need to be bolted and barred. It’s just a bad day not a bad life. Love can certainly cease my strife. I’m consumed by my desire to achieve greatness. No one said that determination would be painless.”
  • Mary Louise
    Published 2 years ago
    B/H

    B/H

    I don’t need to show my intelligence to prove,
  • Morgan Poile
    Published 2 years ago
    Dirty Water and A Wet Countertop

    Dirty Water and A Wet Countertop

    I looked into the bathroom mirror And a mascara smudged Swollen lip girl looked back at me I leaned on the cold countertop letting the pressure sting my thumb My thumb where the devil whispered fire across the surface of my skin Creating a bubble of a bad decision that would leave a scar. A scar that would fade, but always be touched with a gentle throb of remembrance. With my smallest finger I licked the tip Giving it a Wet vodka soaked surface I closed my eye and let my finger try to erase the black smudges underneath them only to create bigger ones The crusty goo like mascara stretched over my dark bags and down my cheeks to where the apples peaked Warm tears drew crystal paths through the dark pools of black Their salty presence burning the lack of moisture in my face. I turned the foset on and brought water to my eyes Keeping them open in fear that I would see him there gripping me gently enough to feel safe and holding me tight enough to where I couldn’t escape The burning of the hot liquid instigated the stinging of the mascara melting underneath my eyelids dying the whites of my eyes black I let the warm tears cool down the burning in my eyes taking the mascara down my face into the pool of clear water in the sink I looked up into the mirror. And for a moment I was okay. But I touched the deep red of my swollen lips They ached with resentment and were parched with pain but I couldn’t find the moisturizer I had for my lips Of course It was in the left cup of my bra But I wasn’t wearing my bra anymore Which was a shame. It was expensive. Where the throbbing of my bottom lip met the parched skin of my recently dampened face It burned like the sun hitting the sand right before the ocean water hits it. And my bottom lip suffered because this ocean was dried up. I looked in the mirror my cheeks red with regret They were begging for attention Because begging him to stop wasn’t enough Because jeans and a sweater is such a tempting outfit choice for men Because I’m completely without a doubt asking for it when I wasn’t even supposed to be there Because my mascara smudges and sadness attracted him I wonder if his cheeks got red like mine when I told him No. I let the water fill the sink And brought my hands together to submerge my face The makeup that was left drew skin tone water art like a Chinese New Year without the celebration The mascara that was left on my eyelashes filled the sink with crusty flakes and black residue My lips throbbed with joy at the touch of cool against the burning flesh that was the only tang of dignity that I had left And for a moment I stood over the sink, avoiding the mirror in fear of seeing someone other than myself. I watched my liquid nightmare slowly spiral down the rusted drain in a way that said it’ll meet me again I closed my eyes and gripped the edge of the counter with both hands hoping and praying to a God that I didn’t even believe in But I opened my eyes, it wasn’t a dream. All I could see then Was dirty water and a wet countertop
  • Roman Gabrielo
    Published 2 years ago
    The Tea Walk

    The Tea Walk

    Tea Walk, Part One
  • Giselle Gomez
    Published 2 years ago
    BloodShed

    BloodShed

    My heart angers at the view of you
  • pragna's creations
    Published 2 years ago
    I'll Be Here

    I'll Be Here

    This whole world is right side up,
  • Willie Thomas
    Published 2 years ago
    What’s My Name?

    What’s My Name?

    As I sit in silence, eyes wide shut I never seen things so vibrant
  • Kristal Schlichting
    Published 2 years ago
    Reminder

    Reminder

    Stop walking like you learned to float.