Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.
I stripped myself... Of damaged hair Toxic people Weaves Make up Even sex Just so I could be raw Be real in every follicle of my making
By Elayne Brown8 years ago in Poets
There are many things he yearns to say, His gentle organ forever fumbling and beating fast; Why does it seem his words get shoved away?
By Mario Castelli8 years ago in Poets
Here's something you may understand I was dealt a shitty hand I've been raped And there was no duct tape Just the weight of someone who is much more
By N A8 years ago in Poets
I have had this dream since early childhood, at least since before puberty and the onslaught of maturity or manhood. I was in a hayloft of a dilapidated, run-down barn
By Dr. Betsy Weinstock8 years ago in Poets
For young, wealthy, white men college is an option. Deemed a casual (yet educational) vacation they can just show up to because the library,
By Mari Ortega8 years ago in Poets
I am from blue skies Irridescent lies Dark nights And lifelong cries I am from do what you're told Always be bold Don't back down
By Valerie Rae8 years ago in Poets
Born in a small nation surrounded by catastrophe of epic proportions, but come on laugh with me because I managed to get away from the atrocities
By Valerie Rose8 years ago in Poets
Here, histories mingle like fingers meet at a palm. Early mornings in the city, waking— I run along that wrinkle between thumb and writes,
By Talia Green8 years ago in Poets
No one told me to say it right. I would be frustrated with the community that bred me. I made changes to the pronunciation.
By Crissy DXCII8 years ago in Poets
Confusion is the guy that told you he'd never leave you but did. Confusion is the guy that cheated on you over and over again.
By Estrella Cabada8 years ago in Poets
one time I will aim a freely focused shot in to the still brisk night bring forward each who whises to be gifted with simplistic lyric based blessings
By Mechanic Mc8 years ago in Poets
Do we ever get rid of it? Or do we just learn to live with it? A mind with so many lemons it gets sour in this b****. Always bittersweet.
By FaithTales93 P8 years ago in Poets
