slam poetry
Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.
A Little Man Trying To Be Big
With an Italian origin, the earliest known ottava rima were written by Giovanni Boccaccio. In English, Lord Byron used the form to write Don Juan. More contemporary English poets to use the form include William Butler Yeats and Kenneth Koch. Ottava rima are 8 lines with an abababcc rhyme scheme, most commonly written in iambic pentameter (or 10-syllable lines). The form can work as a stand alone poem, or be used as connecting stanzas. Writer's Digest, Robert Brewer
Denise E LindquistPublished 6 months ago in PoetsInfluencer or Influenza?
Influencer Influenza Who can tell the difference? These days One and the other seem the same Gurus Creators With inflated egos and "gimmicks"
Paul StewartPublished 6 months ago in Poetsstereotypical expectations
nerd i guess i meet the qualifications for the role a bookworm curiosity flowing among my cells a love of performing perfect eyesight..wait. no. apologies.
You’re Mine
From the first day I seen your face I know you were all mine. Not one malice bone in your body I see right through you, deep to your soul where mine entwines with yours.
Charlee LovePublished 6 months ago in PoetsEyes of the Earth
Within his gaze, a world's reflected hue, A man with eyes like earth, deep, rich, and true. In every glance, a story softly told,
Haris HadzicPublished 6 months ago in PoetsThe Silence of The Phones
The Silence of the Phones In a world of texting and phone calls aplenty, There lived a wife with habits so uncanny. She had an indifference that couldn't be denied,
lamb's wool
easy to spindle into a cloak it becomes a signal to run and hide wolves circle the weak and eagles watch from above there is something unknown about how they're disguised
My Prometheus
Prometheus, he kneeled before me And carefully stole from the gods All that my soul desired, all * Devious, he approached his hand to me
results of calm
too many questions but enough to understand the basic form of the world it makes sense to have confidence to trust nothing but the one you control
Perfectly Imperfect
She spends too much time looking at her flaws She never realizes She’s perfectly imperfect Every part of her is worth it
Atomic HistorianPublished 6 months ago in PoetsA Name I Cannot Recall
Your heart was so ugly, I could never quite see your face. I fell from heaven and ascended into a memory that I've tried to erase.
Jollyoddbod PoetryPublished 6 months ago in Poetsnervous wreck
jittery expectations rushed excuses something PLEASE to stop the endless anticipation ... there will be trust in the heart