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

Feelings (Austin J.)

This slam poem was submitted by a poet named Austin J., hailing from Germany. This poem is provided as a written poetry piece, profoundly personal, deeply painful. 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. Make sure to leave a comment.

 --Slam Poems Editor

Unloved

Today was a bad day.
I cried again.
Not that anyone would care.
I argued with them again, about something that's important to me.
Like always they don't understand and they don't care, or they just don't want to care.
It hurts.

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

Stand (S.M.B)

Stand unabashed to face the world

That starved you 

Refuse to starve

That segregated you

Refuse to be separate 

Stand as one unbroken by the world

That judged you

Refuse to live in a box

By standards of others

Live and breathe and know life

Stand as One in the world so that it knows

Your color is its color

Your voice is its voice

Your hearts beat is its heart beat

your life is its life mad or sane  

Stand

Perfect Strings (A Star)

I can't sleep
My head is pounding
I can't stop thinking
Everything's going wrong
God bless me so this headache will go away and I can sleep
It's no use
Tear slicked eyes
My mind reminds me of everything going wrong
I can't stop thinking
Running through scenarios
And memories
And none of them happy

To the Forgotten (Rachel Travers)

To all the little girls that dream of soulmates and dinner dates
Not boys looking at women like shark bait

To all the little scenarios that go on inside your head
Even though you know damn well they won’t happen

I Am BlakaFemale (BlakaFemale)

The following slam poem was submitted by a poet who goes by the name "BlakaFemale." This poem is provided as a written poetry piece addressing the historical atrocities endured by the black community, as well as the incredible resilience of black women.  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

I Am BlakaFemale

You kidnapped and stole me from my natural birthplace a land of plenty that provided so much for the many and the same as BlakaMale I too was branded, stamped, and shipped for sale to experience a different type of the same American made hell, I Am BlakaFemale.

No longer able to see or hear my elders named, Amina of Nigeria, Candace of Ethiopia, Makeda of Sheba, Nefertiti of Kement , and Yaa Asantewa of Ghana. These powerful Black African Queens taught Maya Angelou the reasons Why The Caged Bird Sings.

The Rocks (Row MC)

Back on the rocks— The only sound symphonic waves, Not a soul in view but the two Still move like they’re on a stage. Track of time is last in line As the passion climbs.

Poisonous Butterflies (Johnny Levy)

Just put the marks
On the page.

This is what
I tell myself


When my canvas
Is too big for me.

When the paper's
Whiteness blinds me,

And I've failed
Before I've started.

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

To Be A Writer (Jenn Smith)

I want to be a writer more than I want love, which is probably part of the issue I want to be a writer more than I want love, because unrequited is so much more dramatic than requited Because heartbreaking poems aren't as boring as hopeful ones, because I'd rather be sad than be dull

One Girl (Indy Schalk)

One girl Who’s seen through two lenses Trying to hem them together as they deny one another I look past Through the viewfinder Remind me, which one am I?

Cold Mirror (Zeba Mehdi)

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