slam poetry
Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.
Breathe
I remember when my lungs were clean, my brain understood how to properly control my voice, my mouth didn’t bumble and stumble over bunny-slope words,
Abrin B ClearwayPublished 7 years ago in PoetsLetter to My Former Bully
I never asked for you to hurt me. I never asked for you to throw my name around like trash so that everyone knew that I was vulnerable to your words.
Sydney DavisPublished 7 years ago in PoetsHow To Tell Your Mom You Don't Want to Be Alone
"I don't want to be alone, mom." That's what you should say. It's what you could say. It's what you would say if your mouth formed the syllables. If your tongue felt your mind and its thoughts how it should. If you could not look at her for long enough. If she could just see your body soaking and melting into the mattress like when you butter bread that's just gotten out of the oven; then she would know
Friday Drive
I’m looking for things I’ve never seen. Basketball goals stand far, far away from the Buick, and backyard-mountains seem much more inconvenient
Abrin B ClearwayPublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe Day
As the time dwells down my heart beats faster. My breath becomes shallow and my nerves skyrocket. Questions fill my thoughts. Will today be the day? The day I no longer have to change to please you. The day where I'm not wondering if you even care. The day I actually wish to see you and not dread it. Will today be that day?
Lindsay SchmidtPublished 7 years ago in PoetsMaterial Possessions
You bought my friendship with material items. You filled my home with clutter. Your gestures were nice at first. Then I saw you had no heart.
Amanda ZylstraPublished 7 years ago in PoetsMirror Talk
I hate, oh I hate making things such as this. Where the goal is to put myself in a box. Under some artistic lenses, I must then pretend that the image itself
Destiny SmithPublished 7 years ago in PoetsHe Doesn’t Know He Loves Me
He still doesn't know I love him.. he doesn't know I still think about the day we met he doesn't know i made a promise to myself
Destiny MoorePublished 7 years ago in PoetsWalker World
What do you feel when you touch her hands? nothing I answered, physically I have never felt them, Because when I touch her I don’t feel her hands,
Kelsey ForjanPublished 7 years ago in PoetsDeeper Than Rap
Dear black rap artist's of the game yes you the ones who sold your souls to inherit the fortune and fame You the ones whose lyrics are so toxic that it injects poison into my people's brain as you continue to deceive millions for a profit in order to establish a platform and name
Latoia DunnPublished 7 years ago in PoetsI'm a Whore
hi, I’m a whore but no, sex will never boost my self esteem as I constantly slope deeper into depression just because you think its my profession
Ellie BelmontePublished 7 years ago in PoetsAce Over King
You say you're a fighter, Never to back down. You say you're the alpha male, Standing above all. You say you're Superman,
Ashley Van EckPublished 7 years ago in Poets