Park Hill, Son (Johnny L.)

The following slam poem was submitted by a poet who goes by the name "Johnny L.", hailing from Colorado. This poem is provided as a written poetry piece, and is about reconciling the present with the pain of the past. Leave a comment to move this slam poem up in the rankings. Our poetry comment system is intended to facilitate feedback for our artists, and to promote creative communication. Don't just read he poetry -- take the leap by, submitting, commenting, and following. --Slam Poems Editor 

Park Hill, Son

My wife sometimes 

Jokes that she

Wants me to be a 

Bit more polished.

Maybe wear capris

Like rich Italian guys.

Or maybe like a scarf 

Or something.

And I say what 

I always say.

I'm from Park Hill.

Crimson Red (Zela Burg)

The following slam poem was submitted by poet Zela Burg, hailing from Greater London, UK. This poem is provided as a written poetry piece, and addresses provides vibrant images and sound. Leave a comment to move this slam poem up in the rankings. Our poetry comment system is intended to facilitate feedback for our artists, and to promote creative communication. Don't just read he poetry -- take the leap by submitting, commenting, and following. 

 --Slam Poems Editor 

[FULL TEXT] 

A tattooed body of roses

A taste of honey in a cherry pie

An alibi

A path to no man's land

A world of dark passion

A world of great deception

It is not a caution

It stands in a narrow format

A hollow tree

A bleeding sparrow

A raging storm

Never the server

It is now a pick

To dress that tick

Shadows of past loves

Sink into the stale air

The air is fresh

All About You (Kia-San)

The following slam poem was submitted by a poet who goes by the name "Kia-San", hailing from Philadelphia. This poem is provided as a written poetry piece. Leave a comment to move this slam poem up in the rankings. Our poetry comment system is intended to facilitate feedback for our artists, and to promote creative communication. Don't forget to participate by, submitting, commenting, and following.  

All About You

"Our talks are priceless when the meaning behind the conversation goes a long way

It's actually an exciting thing I should say

Because every word ends in laughter all day

Oh, but that's not all; our hopes and dreams are just as grand

That one day we make it to the other land

Baby take my hand!

Oops! So sorry! 

In the moment, you understand?

Where I was going with this conversation

though I tremble in desperation

Looking for words to say my declaration 

Without causing aggravation 

Oh dear, help me describe what I'm feeling

Because my heart is beating

Maybe I should send a letter

But that would simply be cheating

Haiku Challenger 3: Perfect Haiku (Tim H.)

The battle is on!  The following haiku was submitted by Tim H., from Colorado. This is for the Slam Haiku competition. Submit to compete. Comment to elevate this haiku in the rankings.

Perfect Haiku

A perfect haiku, I think I'll try to write one. I'm a failure.

Haiku Challenger 1: Rest (Sarah)

The battle is on!  The following haiku was submitted by Sarah, from Colorado. This is for the Slam Haiku competition. Submit to compete. Comment to elevate this haiku in the rankings.

Rest

Rest is elusive
Life beats down relentlessly
Peace is worth the fight

Untitled (Darby E.)

The following slam poem was submitted by a poet who goes by the name Darby E , hailing from Texas. This poem is provided as a written poetry piece. Leave a comment to move this slam poem up in the rankings. Participate in this community of slam poets by, submitting, commenting, and following. 

Untitled

Ghosts have no need for candles

   cannot dictate how their birthdays are celebrated

   if they are remembered at all.

It is we the left behind,

   that make all of the rules,

   poke at the pain and choose what we want to store in our heads.

We.

Choose.

Black (Franko)

The following slam poem was submitted by Franko, hailing from Louisiana. This poem is provided as a written poetry piece.  Leave a comment to move this slam poem up in the rankings. Remember to participate in this community by, submitting, commenting, and following. 

Black

Black is symbolic of love and pride 

It is a symbol for which my ancestors fought bravely and died 

The dominant figure in society is the man who claims propriety 

Is what some men say, but is untrue 

Black is not to be ashamed of or hide 

For Black and Pride Coincide

Overwhelmed (Tim Hernandez)

The following slam poem was submitted by a poet who goes by the name Tim Hernandez, hailing from Colorado. This poem is provided as a written poetry piece, and addresses the search for truth and peace. Leave a comment to move this slam poem up in the rankings. Our poetry comment system is intended to facilitate feedback for our artists, and to promote creative communication. Don't just read he poetry -- take the leap by, submitting, commenting, and following. 

 --Slam Poems Editor

Overwhelmed

Overwhelmed
But who's not
Once I could think
But of what,
I forgot

My mind is caught
Inside a thought
Too big
And now it's
Bursting

What is true?
Am I, are You?
A dry well ever
Thirsting

This knot entangled
Synapse strangled
Mind encased in
Doubt

Can't find an end
Maybe my friend
My heart can help me
Out

Anxiety ridden
Emotions hidden
Tense and short of
Breath

Run away
No! not today
This time I'll face this
Death

I'm far too weak
Too shy too meek
Too insecure
Too immature
Too dumb too scared
Mentally impaired
Too useless
Too awkward
Too Broken

Searching for something
For someone to put my hope in

No one but You
Eternally true
Breathe me out
Breathe You in
Let it soak in

When I lose sight
Please hold me tight
And never cease
Overwhelming peace

The Painter (hitalot879)

The following slam poem was submitted by a poet who goes by the name "hitalot879", hailing from Connecticut. This poem is provided as a written poetry piece with beautiful natural imagery. Leave a comment to move this slam poem up in the rankings. Our poetry comment system is intended to facilitate feedback for our artists, and to promote creative communication. Don't just read he poetry -- take the leap by, submitting, commenting, and following.    --Slam Poems Editor 

The Painter

I saw the artist paint with brush,

The setting sun, the lengthening shade

The near and further distant hills,

The valley where the lily shows its blade

And hides the nest of the noble thrush

He painted the valleys with their streams,

The giant oak and the stately pine

The quaking aspen leaves afloat

The evening breeze of summertime

And he left me standing lost in dreams

He mixed his colors in varied hue

As clouds suspended from the sky

From swaying limbs where the robin sings

And the eagles nest in mountains high

Beneath a sky of azure blue

It's here the artist stops and stands

Spellbound, he cannot overcome the spell

The sun, now set, has changed the scene

With different colors in the dell

He cannot match the master's hand

Hardships of Life (Callum Finlay)

The following slam poem was submitted by a poet named Callum Finlay. This poem is provided as a written poetry piece, and is a painful, bit ultimately hopeful look at life challenges.  Leave a comment to move this poem up in the rankings. Our poetry comment system is intended to facilitate feedback for our artists, and to promote creative communication. Don't just read poetry -- take the leap by submitting, commenting, and following.  

--Slam Poems Editor

Hardships of Life

He comes home early to a pile of bills,

Working 60 hours a week there's no time for thrills,

Man of the house he's got to provide,

Food on the table for his family to survive,

He's just a blue collar guy,

Trying to get by,

Dark Thoughts and Great Movies (Mr. Brightside)

The following slam poem was submitted by a poet who goes by the name "Mr. Brightside." This poem is provided as a written poetry piece, and is a powerful, vulnerable, questioning piece that leverages dark humor for effect.  Leave a comment to move this poem up in the rankings. Our poetry comment system is intended to facilitate feedback for our artists, and to promote creative communication. Don't just read poetry -- take the leap by submitting, commenting, and following.  

--Slam Poems Editor

Dark Thoughts and Great Movies

They say most girls dream of being a princess and want to be rescued by the prince. What about the boys? I for one wanted to be the prince, find my true love and live happily ever after. Isn’t that what most of us want. I did not know the story ends with the princess sleeping with all 7 dwarfs the Ogre and even the donkey too. Why can’t we be like penguins or seahorses or better yet a Werewolf? Damn you Morpheus and your red pill. (yes, I just referenced Snow White, Shrek, National Geographic, Twilight and Matrix, that’s how messed up my head is).

You Know Who You Are (Lorelai)

You know who you are
You know that you’re the one And I don’t mean the one in which I love I mean the 13 year old boy who took everything from me

Cold Mirror (Zeba Mehdi)

The mirror looks cold, Unnervingly so as I Stand before it Waiting for its approval.

I Am BlakaMale (BlakaMale)

As I was stolen from my birthplace never to see my elders face again not knowing eventually I would be for sale in a land destined to catch hell, I am BlakaMale.
You beat my body and leave scars of shame gave me your name as I endured the pain as my mind reminded unchained as I play your game seeking freedom I would find through reading those books regardless how long it took. That taught me I am one of a kind and my mind is not for sale, I am BlakaMale.

Old School (By Mario Vitale)

Remember the old boom box boogey down to the socks

Reggie Jackson chewy bars & Tommy's pop rocks

Parachutte pants with the hair high fade

Wake up late in a purple haze saying it's going to be one of those days

Back it up even further playing cowboys and indians in the sand box

Waiting at the corner for the ice cream man to come with his stuff

Boy, hero's fade from the scene such an evil scheme

Wouldn't care in what I said or did throwing an M80 under a garbage lid

Back when it was fashionable to be late for your date

Baking grandmas cookies in the oven for sure

Sipping on your favorite beverage while the pops watch Dinah Shore 

Those good old days that have gone before yet soon will discover

The over weight lover from another mother type of brother

Fast cars and the midnight scene with the freaks coming out

Flip flops with your stretch blue jeans such a party scene

In quaint encounters with the local police running in the street

Falling mailboxes girls wearing their Sunday best putting their lovers in a test

A time well spent in thought while going to the fair with music everywhere

Back in school those days listening to teachers stopping later at the mall

The movies back then made you feel ten feet tall with Stallone time to roam

Party's at your neighbors having forts put up in the back

Mommy & Daddy working to hard enough to give them a heart attack

Learn to relax with my rubix cube later playing hacky sack

A soft kiss from a lover under cover as she spins the bottle

I will never forget those tender moments in the sun thank you I got to run. 

I'm Done (By Anonymous)

I'm done. I'm tired of being everyone's second choice. I'm tired of being the one that asks to do something with someone. Whether that be homework or just chilling or just catching up, im done. I'm tired of being the one who always has that pit in my stomach where I feel like I'm just gonna be bothersome to this person who I'm yet again texting to ask if they want to do homework with me. I'm tired of having the anxiety and the feeling that I'm pushing people even further away because I just want someone to do something with. I'm sick and tired of being everyone's advice giver or favor doer and then feeling guilty asking the same of those people in return. 

I'm tired of being the girl that guys just see as a piece of ass. She's pretty I wonder if I can get in her pants. I'm tired of guys getting to know me and learning that I'm not "easy" and then throwing me aside like slop. I'm really really tired of the feeling I get after being thrown aside like slop, feeling like I'm a prude for not putting out. I'm tired of feeling unwanted other than as a means of helping someone achieve an erection.

I'm tired of hating my body. I can't even look at myself naked in the mirror. I can barely stand to be without clothes on for more than three minutes or else I'll start grabbing at areas of my body and analyzing every inch. Finding every little imperfection I can possibly find. Don't even ask me about food. I'm tired of that too. Not food, my relationship with it. What are carbs?

I'm tired of feeling all of these things. Part of me wants to shut everything out and seclude myself for a while, but wait what if that one person texts me back about studying tonight? They won't

Red roses (By Cynthia)

The blood soaked sweater sleeves screamed "help" as the darkness of the night covered my thoughts and mind slowly seeping into my consciousness.

 1,2,3 I took a deep breath as the blade sinked deeper into my skin forming an external manifestation of the internal pain I felt inside.

 It became harder to breathe as my consciousness slowly drifted away leaving the bathroom tiles covered in red reminding me of roses as I took my final breath.

 The world became silent just for a moment. A few scribbled notes and a lifeless corps were the only things standing.

 An awful death lacking depth, and daddy's little girl who never seemed to learn just why she was this way.

No matter what the author of my life continues to type. You see Death is a fact of life.

And the wheel keeps spinning on and on not allowing me to say I was wrong!

 We move on

One More (Sawyer Love)

“One more.”
“No.”
“Take it.”
“No, I’ll throw up.”
“No you won’t.”
“I always do with this stuff.”