slam poetry
Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.
Black And White
Ice cold decisions In the heat of the moment Hotter than fire Your cold, steely glance You turned up the heat When you gave the cold shoulder
Kelli Sheckler-AmsdenPublished 4 months ago in PoetsAn Anti-Ode
Join in on Paul Stewart's fun. Find all the juicy details below. Words words are here to stay. We use them to argue, we use them to pray.
Lamar WigginsPublished 4 months ago in PoetsSobriety Rings
He wanted a trophy to hold his head high Like the one you needed to numb the pain He used me like a plaything but you used me like cocaine
Raine fielderPublished 4 months ago in PoetsThirteen Roses
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 You gave meaning to my life. Did you feel any pain? Afraid I have to say goodbye. Need to walk you again.
Nathan HarkerPublished 4 months ago in PoetsThe End of Peace
We have abandoned peace. I wish I could say it was lost, misplaced atop a mantlepiece. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lizzy RosePublished 4 months ago in PoetsSpace Chocolate
At noon, they took an escape pod to the moon. Upon arrival, he told her that he needed to run a quick errand on mercury ... that was a lightyear ago ...
Embers of Empowerment
In the heart of some, a tempest stirs, A quiet strength that often recurs. For some women fear the fire's heat, While others embrace the flames, complete.
Mubashira KachhotPublished 4 months ago in PoetsChromatic Divide
In hues unseen by his blinded sight, She bloomed a rainbow, vivid and bright. A kaleidoscope of emotions she wore, Yet his world was gray, forevermore.
Mubashira KachhotPublished 4 months ago in PoetsSolitude's Symphony
In the hush of solitude, a quiet retreat, Where the heart and mind in silence meet. A dance with thoughts, a solo affair,
Mubashira KachhotPublished 4 months ago in PoetsA Spiritual Tapestry in the Digital Age
In the sparkle of screens that light the evening, A computerized domain, a spiritualist flight. Through wires and waves, a spirit's journey,
Murmurs of the Universe
In the tremendous sky, a maker concealed, God, a murmur in the breeze, tranquil. Past the mists, an inestimable arrangement,
Dawn of the Undead
If we weren’t dead, we’d tell you that there won’t be any more bloodshed. But when it gets dark, we wanna chase you around.
Nathan HarkerPublished 4 months ago in Poets