slam poetry

Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.

what is a sin?
Forgive me, but I do not know what sin is. As a child we are taught many, many things, We learned: don’t lie, don’t steal, don’t hurt people, etc.
By Katie Petrakos6 years ago in Poets
dreams
What is a dream? Most of my life honestly feels like a dream I don’t know when it began. Thoughts would turn into memories, memories that other people didn’t remember.
By Katie Petrakos6 years ago in Poets
The Argument
Tell me again, what I did to offend you. Tell me why you tried to break me. There was really no end to this, because you made things the same but different.
By Katie Petrakos6 years ago in Poets
GENE EXPRESSION
The choice is made! Red pill release me from internal hibernation. Emancipate my mind as Liberals concludes concentrated electromagnetic energy charging my souls eye. Mental stands by awaiting results of connection between constitutional principles of powers. From biblical principalities seeking controversial ideas blocking my thoughts where intentions of indigenous intelligence dwell. Let my genes speak expressed insight of foresight’s —predictions prematurely developing states place created for such a time as this to rattle warnings of the company kept temporarily in my storehouse. Tel•A•Poet Data Codes
By 🎙B.E. Nature Magazine 6 years ago in Poets
What is Love?
Growing up boys would say they loved me, but like I, they didn't understand what the gravity of the word was or what it meant
By Shay Hanae6 years ago in Poets
Time for a Change
A feminist who hated women A soldier who never fought For one who hated labels You applied an awful lot You’ve traded your beard for lipstick
By Dan George6 years ago in Poets
Where’s Ya Focus At?
Where’s Your Focus At? The Struggle is real, As far as your hustle, you better go hard or stay home, Not too many are Real, & even less are dedicated to Self-Success,
By Diamond Dreams Movement6 years ago in Poets
No More!
To reduce the risk of another broken heart, I burnt my emotions, black Eyes focused on everything else, for months, I changed into just that
By Cameile Graham6 years ago in Poets
Immune
Honestly... I'm not immune to the sharp, verbal swords driven through the thin, skin of my now bleeding heart. Though I may like it rough, during sex, granted, but not when we're trying to talk. For real, there's absolutely nothing Fifty Shades of Grey about being verbally ripped and torn apart.
By ©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse6 years ago in Poets
the devil and his posse.
Stolen. Stolen is the only word I can use to begin to describe your work. Your success. Your future. Everything you have, is attributed to me. Every idea you have pursued was mine before it was yours – before I gave it to you.
By M. A. Hetussa6 years ago in Poets
Call Me, Joker
Abused, alone, adopted He never stood a chance In a burning world dismantled by gunfire A world that drove him to insanity
By Emily Bredahl6 years ago in Poets
While Sitting in Traffic on a Tuesday Evening
"While Sitting in Traffic on a Tuesday Evening” A work of creative nonfiction. By K. R. King What does it take to truly cope with every little Curveball,
By Kat King6 years ago in Poets