slam poetry
Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.
Blessed Are the Makers
Blessed are the makers Especially those that shakedown the takers In a world full of fakers They are the ones that capture the vaper
Atomic HistorianPublished about 6 hours ago in PoetsCome to Me
Come to me with insincerity hold me with disdain touch me with your arrogance caress me with condescension seduce me with your sweet, sweet lies.
Cathy holmesPublished about 9 hours ago in PoetsLorem Ipsum
Ms. Lorem Ipsum confabulated text On a page of my life story Consequatly aliquipped quaerat amet That stung of my unsung glory
Gerard DiLeoPublished about 9 hours ago in PoetsIf They Could Speak
If animals speak, Would everyone's troubles grow small? Or would we spiral, Into a forbidden chaos? ----- ------- -----
J. K. AndersonPublished about 11 hours ago in PoetsWrong is wrong
Wrong is wrong no matter how right it is Life is not a burden burden is perspective character is defined by qualities not with words love is not for the body Must have qualities wrong is wrong no matter how right it is wrong is wrong No matter how true it may be wrong is wrong No matter how pure the thoughts and deeds are, wrong is wrong Even if it is not my own actions wrong is wrong no matter how right it is
ISTP "The Silent Solver"
With stoic gaze, the ISTP doth stand, A silent soul, with secrets close at hand. They wield their logic, a most keenest blade,
Dylan RahardjaPublished about 20 hours ago in PoetsISTP "The Mechanical Troubleshooter"
With stoic gaze, the ISTP doth stand, A silent soul, with logic as their guide, Their minds a vault of knowledge, close at hand,
Dylan RahardjaPublished about 20 hours ago in PoetsThe unkind atrocity of kindness
The unkind atrocity of kindness On nights that are filled with darkness and despair, Where the blanket bites under the coldness of the swaying air.
Hridya SharmaPublished a day ago in PoetsI Found My Lost Love
In the depths of darkness, a light did shine, Lost love, a treasure once thought mine. Through storms of sorrow, my heart did roam
Someone cries like this.
I used to cry as a child so to handle mother's lap and father's shoulder But father also often says you are a boy, friend No one cries like this.
Empty Souls
Empty souls Trying to fill the hole The void All to avoid the reality There is no amount of alcohol, drugs, or roids to make the pain go away
Atomic HistorianPublished a day ago in PoetsISTJ "The Logistician Inspector"
With stalwart heart and mind of logic keen, The ISTJ doth tread a measured pace, A soul of duty, ever to be seen In constant toil, a smile upon their face.
Dylan RahardjaPublished 2 days ago in Poets