i want to go back to a time where i felt pretty
a time where i felt
something.
where slam poetry about brittle bones and bottles spoke to me
where sharp pieces of metal and sexy, seducing, sad songs spoke for me
and scars whispered what could’ve never been said
projectile vomiting diet coke and sugar-free bubblegum
choking on what i didn’t eat and the secrets eating me alive.
what a beautiful way to rot
i am a pesticide covered flower
a beautiful being crumbling slowly
right in front of your eyes.
you picked me to try and brighten your already dull life,
unknowing of my dullness
placed me in a dirty glass
what else could you have done?
i felt.
I felt pretty.
something.
something i wasn’t used to
like i was meant for more than rotting in this flower bed.
I don't get a lot of comments
It's makes my name uncommon
I took a rest, now I'm back
When I read your words I see what you lack
I will step into your ring
Wearing a ring
and cut your words in half
I don't want to be mean
but you left me with no choice
because I have a voice
My poems are top notch
leaving your words lost
When the tides turn
you'll wave at me
causing mistakes in your destiny
If you believe your the best
you've looked in the mirror less
Don't be hurt by what I say
it's all fun and games
I don’t care what you think of me
Or the label that you give
I don’t care what box you’ve found
Cause in there… I won’t live
I don’t care what thoughts you think
Or how you judge my soul
I frankly couldn’t give a damn
If shaming is your goal
I don’t care you think I’m base
Too fat, not pencil thin
I don’t care, cause you know what?
Your judgment is YOUR sin
I don’t care, I do not CARE
I do not give a DAMN
So scroll on by or disappear
Or get caught in this SLAM!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
People see what they want to see....nothing more...nothing less...
This is a sample of SLAM poetry.
Please check this slam poetry
link on YouTube for an
amazing, very strong story how
a doctor gave up on me. 15-
28-17. Those are my numbers.
I have had 15 surgeries, I'm 28
yrs old and this has gone on for
17 months. #VoiceLess_Patient
http://youtu.be/SNrV61uXul8
Please share this video :)
Love Poem, 2011
V. Ortiz Vazquez
I am no slam poetry poet
No love story reside within my pencil
Strawberries, tossed salad has no residency
Smooth skin, deep breath, loud moans
Non existent
Bleeding pen draws away
The thought, idea of love making through ink
Passion flow with no identifiable destination
Taking not borrowing, lines begin to form spectacles of no love
My pen-pencil, tools entrusted to absentees’ pictographs
Images of lost, missed, forgotten times
Tried by many
Explore by few
Spit by few too many
Hardship with frown for a smile
I am no slam poetry poet
No love story lies within my pages
Notion of impossible curves
Sweet nectar, delicious lips
Absent
Day dreams resettle night dreams
Suddenly awaken rushing to fall asleep once again
Return to…where did it go?
Relax muscles
Swollen vessels
Dimmit!! No longer asleep
I am no slam poetry poet
No love poem here
No
Love
Poem
Here
There’s a peach of a girl named P.D.
Who is a friend of both you and me
She’s gone away
I already miss her today
Her kind words and Queen Slam poetry
*If you find another sad limerick let me know*
The Orangutang:
There once was a traditionalist,
Who in his ignorance had missed
The beauty of youth,
The ever-changing truth!
He's a typical fundamentalist!
The Traditionalist:
"I can't stand these kids and their slang!
They are just looking for a bang!
Their rhymes are funky,
But so are monkeys!"
- Did he just call me an orangutang?
"These darn kids and this gosh darn slam,
It may flow, but it's still a scam!
If it ain't metered,
Then it's petered!
Why waste your ink scribbling flimflam?"
No event! No audience! Brain spasm!
Is it fun for the sponsor that has 'em?
Folks numerically judge.
Presentations with grudge -
Slam without performance is a chasm.
How in cyberspace can one perform his poem?
Can U-tube audiences judge random?
There must be an event.
That is the slam intent.
Otherwise, it becomes aimless, gruesome.
There once was a poet who disliked slam.
She slammed anyway while eating eggs and ham.
I was told by a bird -
She got choked on her word.
Too bad it was not performed for the cam!
© July 21, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
A SPECIAL THANKS GOES TO OUR POETRY SOUP TEAM for their continued support of the art of poetry in all of its forms and for their sensitivity to the needs of poets on Poetry Soup. SLAM POETRY is about performance. It is about beliefs and opinions...NOT just about dissing. Some SLAM Poetry is purely beautiful. I visited the link posted on their recent blog. http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=8723097898466379752# It was a marvelous experience. SMILES
The Angry Seashore
The Angry Seashore
Sneering at oil rigs.
Cusses and waves frantically -
Fearing tomorrow.
Written for the "OIL SPILLED OUT ANGER!" contest
FORMAT: Free Verse the since slam is no longer an accepted form for use on Poetry Soup.
SLAM POETRY is PERFORMANCE Poetry. So imagine my performance. I am leaning forward toward the audience with a frown on my face as I recite line one. Then, as I step forward for line two, my facial expressionsl change from a frown to a very angry sneering look. Next, I start waving my arms slowly as I state the word "Cusses". Then, as I recite the rest of line three I wave my arms faster and pick up the speed of line delivery. Lastly, imagine that I am cowering my posture down with my face still looking at the audience, My body is turned sideways and I am pretending to bite my fingernails I have sad eyes and a fearful frown on my face. OK THAT'S THE PERFORMANCE...USE YOUR IMAGINATION. Smiles!
© July 19, 2010
(I just took this as a fun little assignment.
I did not even make the deadline for the
contest. I was not targeting any person
at all in this little story. I do not object to
slam poetry and I think it would be
humorous to see someone get arrested
for not even being able to slam correctly!
I love all my friends, slamming and
non-slamming alike. ) Andrea
Some poetry cops learned the crime
Of a slammer who just couldn’t rhyme.
In a jail cell he pays -
Being forced endless days
To hear sonnets while he’s serving time!
Slams Destroyed Her Head
She was slammed by slam poetry, boo hoo!
Some folks wondered about the hullabaloo.
When bombarded with dread,
Sad thoughts destroyed her head.
Now, she thinks she’s a blithering cuckoo!
© July 17, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Slam poetry a form so new
Spoken word more than a view
Some are great some are bad
It is really just a fad
Bringing attention to poetry true
Slam poetry, bam, bam, bam
Reminds me of the Flintstones, ma’am
Rough language meant to cut.
Great Gazoo got the rut.
Nowadays even our Uncle Sam.