Poetry Slam
Does my posture hint who I am
At open mic poetry slam
I prefer to hide behind lime winged words
On my pc or tablet or pen paper if I have it
Will my message get loosely lost
As you notice the style of hair I toss
If I am short tall fat or thin
Do YOU hear my message or take my presence in
I don't always walk up to the mic
And I'm wondering this teal thought tonight
Is my heart a red paper valentine
That presents as giving up on love in time
I stand here on this stage
Full of fear desiring fuchsia praise
Seeking love of audience in my way
Unity and community follow my page
I am mistaken I am not a poet
Just a lost soul hoping to grow it
That special something the it factor
Standing on stage as a benefactor.
If you notice my shoes
You know I'm an old soul
Hearing my heart is bruised
Told you so.
I get confused with the snaps and claps
All I want from you is a spiritual tap.
I stood too long before the crowd
I read my poem in a voice so loud
I feel relief like yellow sun from cloud
Thanks for listening glad I came out.
Copyright © Karen Jones | Year Posted 2023
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