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Best Slam Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Slam poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of slam poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Slam Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Slam poems are below this new poems list.

The Number 1 Slam Poem by Trim, Nick
Slam cheating cad by Flaherty, Christopher
Slam rhyming rap battle trump by Flaherty, Christopher
Slam i want her as my daughter in law Son by Flaherty, Christopher
How to Score a Slam by Rigoler, Maurice
Slam poetry by Fernandez, Trish
Slam The World is not out to get you by Flaherty, Christopher
Slam Negatively by Flaherty, Christopher
Slam Avatar Troll by Flaherty, Christopher
A Gentle Slam by Manassian, Eileen

View all new Slam Poems

The Best Slam Poems

Details | Slam Poem |

Like A Girl

Listen to poem:

Like A Girl 

I play like a girl, I hit like a girl
You say I throw like a girl, 
And, when I run -- I run like a girl!
All that plus more, enjoy this one size fits all

Who and what I want comes from being strong 
Classy and fabulous, 
THIS is my song!

I've been told, cut to size
The world dark and gray, when life becomes an insult
Take heed when I speak my mind, 
I am tough, outstanding and beautiful!

Move ahead --- say it twice, I smell nice
A taste of Cool Water and Justice Perfume
I have a non-stop multitask fixation
Like a woman, everything about me is hidden 
Magic and alluring the only joy in sexuality you'll need

I'm empowering this moment!
Endorsing Myself, with a certain sorta mystique
I deliver an independent will, 
     don't ever underestimate my physique

I am a caregiver, a female who won't give up the fight
I remain firm and believe all women have equal rights
I walk and talk Like A girl 
    wearing heels Breaking the sound of Annabel

       Like, Mona's unforgettable smile, 
       I stand tall Like Miss Liberty
       I am, Betsy Ross, America's #1 designer
            Harriet, who escaped slaver-y 
       Like Theresa and Mary, I'm here to give change
       I am, Hilary overwhelmed with determination
       A leader -- A Goddess, I burn like Joan
       ---Cleopatra in the room
       ---Calamity Jane's wild side
       Emelia's, won't give up heart
       I am Anne, with a secret hidden spot
       Susan B, with the right to vote
       Emily who writes deep and pretty

The sound In your eyes aren't listening!
You imagine I am weak -- not strong enough -- brave enough, 
You call me different and difficult!
Still, you want my warmth -- my love -- my attention

I am not less, I am more
I am a woman -- I frown -- I cry -- I hurt and yell at the universe
Nevertheless, I make a difference
Like a girl, I smile
A smile never seen or felt before, both defined and undefined
Your heart will ask and implore for more

Like a girl, I'll drive you wild, looking pretty "You're In Love!"
My Self confidence comes from who I am deep inside
Everything I've become follows the makeup on my face
Bare and nude, I am the Madonna flowering the mood

At the end of every day, I have one other thing to say
The Next Time You ask me to cook and clean
Because you think, I belong in the kitchen
You better believe I'm doing it my way
LIKE A GIRL

Details | Slam Poem |

To all the heart breakers -a ZOMBIE's valentine

Wouldn't you rather~

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
Maybe shoot yourself in the head?
Over my dead heart, I'd never want to be a zombie like you.
The sight of your limbs are rotten all the time.
All synonyms say of you looks like a 3 legged swine.
Go ahead and do us all a favor, 
hide and stash yourself away from all your neighbor. 
I think I'd rather have my eyes stuck with glue
So I won't have to look at you
When it comes to family friends, you ain't got none.
You're always gonna be called the lonely retarded one.
Who could ever love a face like yours.
not even your mother see's pass your gores 
No need for privacy when you pee
Go ahead and take a leak and drown yourself in the sea.
Don't think for one second you are irresistible 
Love making with a zombie is impossible.

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

The time to kill yourself is at hand.
Slicing your wrist is what we recommend.  
Cut your tongue off, don't want to hear you squeal.   
Blood all over, your face is no big deal
A sword or machete will only pick up the pace
I wanna see your guts pop out your mid-waist 
Contaminated objects is a must
Anything to remove your face of disgust.
The easy part is the best
Once you are gone we will all feel blessed,
The flaw of your existence  
Is what keeps us all in distance 

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

Close your eyes and die
No one wants to hear you cry
You said you wanted to be loved
believe me~ you're better off unloved
I say do yourself off
Anyways you've always had it rough...
Go ahead and scream
This is not a dream
Now see how you make me feel
All I want is for you to end your ugly ordeal.
I will praise this day of course
Knowing soon you'll be a rotting corpse.

happy valentine ~ TO: All My DEADBEAT X-es from Texas.

Details | Slam Poem |

I Wore Your Skin

~I wore your skin~

Brother, I wore your skin last night
Nothing but friction, blood -dry ink
Announcing a crush "Silence by the Sky!"
Integrity denied, endangered enemy

Brother, I wore your skin last night, swollen ankles
  imagery galore, vomit on the lavatory floor
A clown bleeding red, feeding lies to those he rapes
Blades of need, captain catamite chasing a pup
Who can't resist the heat, when fenced
Brother, I wore your skin last night,
White, green and tight, devouring the light 
Mitten wool on your bottom draw
Lipstick waiting to kiss immediate sin
In search of keeping things close to kin
Brother I wore and tore your skin right off
Gross in every demonic way, 
Acrobats all over the home
Docile immunity, lurking with a bomb threat 

Sister, I wore your skin last night
Vanity of nothingness nutted blasphemy
Evil lurking, wanting to undress thee
Comparing notes, breaking bad company

Sister, I wore your skin last night, swollen lips
  scumbag hag, with nowhere to go
Immortal lies weaken by love
Revealing nothing more than her true self
A wraith with no heart, no goal
Sister, I wore your skin last night
Repeating, bleeding, nail biting
Greasy and powerful, needy and greedy
Aching and whining for not placing
Her head lower than shame holding a high
Sister I wore and swore to never put on your skin again
The nasty feeling, of pretending loyalty, is passion
To hate all those who don't fit your skin
A vulture preying sending encrypted messages

By: PD

Details | Slam Poem |

PINK LACE

**Every pace change --is the voices of poets sharing his/her Ribbon** 

"PINK LADIES"  
  
The phone rings, 
The clock dings,

I scream, scream, and scream:

I can’t grasp what is real
I can’t inhale the lives you steal
This game is like murder in the first degree,
I can barely feel the words you're expressing.
Your hand, holding on to mine as if it was the last
I crawl I hide behind these moonstone walls
There it stood and stole my Womanhood
Pink is the ointment rubbed inside my diary.
---

I crawl- I remember-
Looking for a dream, where the women wear combat boots
Women ready to kill all confrontation with nukes.
---

I was lost!
Do you know the feeling?
Once you hear, the “C” word your mind starts spinning,
You can’t see what’s going on,
Your smiles soon to be gone,
---

LOOK AT ME!
On this fright night, I bleed
Hold on tight, of the dead of this night
I’m down on my fallen knees,
A secret I can't keep, no longer need
Breaking backs when I mention the word “C.”
It is like getting struck by a freight train
Taking what belong and makes ME me! 
Forgetting the Pink October ribbons, I wore
Taking  time to weave them into the last strand of my red chemo hair.
---

Now here you are,
Standing on the chest
Heavy shoulders a violin press.
No longer needing the little black dress
Skin pink tight leather, now you caress
My eyes are full of tears
Once I discovered the beast came back without fear 
The news blew like a missile in heat
With a fire’s shooting out from the dark
Sweltering me, blazing me,
Leaving the world, all ribbon tied.
Dimples and pretty lips, I drop the world with beauty and tissues. 
Filled with  pink ivory issues 
This is the way that I feel, I am real… 
You are a killer, you are a disease! 
You sit there and shatter our lives,
With many of us, you’ll discover we do not break like glass 
Still, we walk in high heels strolling through pink valley skies.
With a charm called a Pink Ribbon; -I WORE-
---

- A heavy pink scarf now I wear like a noose, 
Remembering my days have been numbered 
---

I PLEAD FOR MY LIFE?
I have no family to lean on
Everybody’s plus my mother is gone
You are the undead: 
Leading some of us into a watery grave
You are like a jack in the box
Hiding until you are found… 
You’re silent until your jobs done...

You made us angry, you made us cry, you killed many…
However, you will never come close to a glorious ~Victory~ 
We are  “PINK LADIES,” who  continue to be strong
I will find a way to sew my chest back to its caressing view!

One day will find the cure,
And, destroy YOU "The miserable ‘Breast Cancer’ Disease" 
"ONCE AND FOR ALL!"


by; PD

Dedicated to all the females of the world. 
((And men whose life touched by this disease))

Details | Slam Poem |

Playing Human

Introducing: Nate & Linda

The smile on my lips
is forced and coerced
I pretend to pay attention
give the best possible advice
everyone praises me
I'm so kind, polite and nice
It's all just automation
I rarely actually listen
certainly don't care
all I'm doing
is playing human
blending in
fitting in
I'm so perfectly hidden
you'll never even
see a curtain, 
   from where I stand
   Majoring in social events
   Put on a pedestal
   for computing with you
   I'm so perfectly hidden 
   smiling from time to time
   Labeling those 
   with all sincerity
   open soldiery  
   Passing along an appeal
   continuing to fit in
   blend in
   pretend
   force program 
   Is it just me or
   am I the perfect human?

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Details | Slam Poem |

Floccinaucinihilipilification And Very Little Bread

Floccinaucinihilipilification And Very Little Bread
       ( First of Three Poem Trilogy )

I

I've no problem with bardolatry fans
their barmecide and oft humorous rants.
Give me golden words not found in empty cans,
not bawbee's from those with sad, empty pants.
Truly I enjoy, bright golden attic wit,
creators of canorous verse that soars.
Those I may share bumbo and be a big hit
not with callithumpians that so sorely bores.

Nor do I fancy to become a bichon frise,
beholding to those with comminatory ways.
Finding some will cut you off at the knees
as a criticaster dariole for fugacious pay.
Floccinaucinihilipilification,
judged by Flews that chatter in morbid tune. 
Give me saudade and a sandy beach vacation
with very little scrippage in the month of June.

Aye, no snollygoster soucouyant will do,
for my heart and soul begs sun-grazing songs.
Not a superbious umbriferous critic or two,
with the poet's soul this body truly belongs.
Seeking no uroboros legacy my ink doth stain
as a soulcatcher with a selkie as a muse.
Alone, in this rawky terrain my life will remain
for solitude and honor my poet's heart doth choose.

I've no problem with bardolatry fans
their barmecide and oft humorous rants.
Give me golden words not found in empty cans,
not bawbee's from those with sad, empty pants.
Truly I enjoy, bright golden attic wit,
creators of canorous verse that soars.
Those I may share bumbo and be a big hit,
not with callithumpians that so sorely bores.

Robert J. Lindley, 3-21-2018
Rhyme

Note: 
Make of this what you will,
I give thus and surely shall send no bill
Yet in my poet's heart my soul oft grieves
for the Autumn colors not the decaying leaves
For the heart that yearns to write and truly give
and the mortal soul that writes to live
With inked symbols and a mind tired of toil
wading through worlds filled with pride and hidden turmoil
I write with purpose to give to others, not to take
tho' oft my poet's heart over burning coals some gladly rake.

Details | Slam Poem |

Ungrateful child

I woke up that day with tears in my eyes,
after I heard about your father's demise.
Guess you've never understood,
the point of being his blood.

I remember when your mother left,
how he was totally bereft.
Ran off with the man next door,
not once did he call her a whore.
Not once did your mother call,
too busy having a ball.
Forgot about her only child,
to live a life fun and wild.

He knew he had to be strong,
so the world would do you no wrong.
Every night he held you tight,
his eyes your guiding light.
Every time you would cry,
he would kiss those tears dry.
Worked three jobs so you had the best,
not once did he fail in your request.
He suppressed all his sorrows deep inside,
he was broken but never did he subside.

Single he remained for the rest of his life,
dedicated to you, so you would not face strife.
Yet you too, decided to walk away,
tell me what led you astray?
You called him a religious bore,
when you ran out of that door.
He had your best interests at heart,
but you belittled him for not being smart.

Then you wonder why he finally broke,
all that stress gave him a deadly stroke.
Now you stand there with your unfaithful mother,
with someone who is young enough to be your brother.
Crocodile tears stream from your artificial face,
as his coffin is lowered into his final resting place.
How ironic it has started to pour with rain,
maybe it's God washing away all of his pain.

Don't come running to me for sympathy,
I have no time for those with no dignity.
All his sacrifices now you seem to realise,
but he can't hear you, it's too late to apologise.
Because of you he lived a life heartbroken,
forever you will regret those words unspoken.

P.S
If you think his inheritance will help your austerity,
he wasn't that stupid, he left it all to charity!

The Silent One
16 February 2018

Based on a true story

Details | Slam Poem |

Across The Border

"La Voz"

La Noche sin agua --- I spill my loving lips
Dancing, laughing and celebrating life 
I am his queen, aka' dulce Nina
A night he must not forget 

Lunesta ... Suave ...
He savors every moment;
Then questions my capabilities 
Suddenly I feel like a refugee in my own house!
History and bad company, repeating itself
He wants to ruin the beauty of leadership
America on top, Latinos on the bottom
"Legally," he says, he'll welcome me 
Law abiding, I  pass the proper speech 
Stereotyped every time I share my race
Casting my poor nationality under the Rio Grand, 
A wall too tall, in which my people continue to build

After I give him my all
Children, love, support
The best tortillas in the house 
He offends a lifetime of memories
I'm a skillful woman, I dance with no music
   I love to work, I take the field 
   Picking cotton, like there's no tomorrow 
   I will continue to paint rainbows
And enjoy every color in my garden.

Today, I've forgotten what Mexico looks like
However, that does not cut him from 
accusing my race of planting too many trees 
Calculating, calling Latinos criminals, 
Forgetting his own sin, he wants to win
Insinuating we're robbing the American Dream
This is where I belong!!!
Go ahead and build more republicans
I'm already on the side I want to be
Born and raised in the USA

~*~

Details | Slam Poem |

Diamond Cut

"A Broken Demo"

In a desperate cry for help
She hires every jeweler
A cheap sheep crying, Wolf!
Using old repeating politic
utilizing lies * manipulation 
To cover the Glass Paste on her face
     Diamond-like - Stonecold and Crooked!

Her true shape -- unveiled -- predictable 
    A Thief Among The Mines
In a world where certainties are few---
Promises! Promises! 
A shallow cut - with high class
   no shape --- no spark, a dark mass
Smashing success when opportunity hits
The worst gem in disguise
The diamonds in her eyes -- gone -- expired

If you look, you will see
A twisted reflection in her evil grin
A sinister smile -- waiting to win
Her Vice - a victim --- her puppet
  blind * believing her lies
Cutting the light performance -
   -Without realizing most see past her history

We the people are more than a cubic step
Lighting the madness of her soul
Just remember, every day she sits on her pedestal
Without a twinkle --- she stares into night
Knowing nothing she stands for is right
 
Innovation - incomplete 
A man-made she-demon trying to wear white
Like the swan, dying every night
She refused to hear the trumpet play
A new moon soon will open our eyes
EXPOSED  ---  Diamond CUT
Hillary Will Not Be President 

#The Poet Destroyer

Details | Slam Poem |

Pretty Poet

Where Have All The Pretty Poets Gone? 

A real poet are you, charismatic over everything you serve
Showcasing, a rainbow that folds the perfect world wide perspective
I'm talking about flawless literature at its best no typos, no muss
Just a page full of boredom and rust
Thank you for having Lunesta all up in my head
It's like reading a poetry lesson, from the extras of The Walking Dead
An image frozen cold, waiting for inspiration to hit like Al Capone
I'm bored of your flora flamboyant language rocking me like stones
A psychedelic trip, into the odyssey of a blind man's tale
A home where I am pushed to open a dictionary & thesaurus with braille
Wondering what you just said, --Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful day! 
  
The best rocket pen poet in the USA Today, 
Launching words like no tomorrow, a fool of wordplay and sorrow
A godlike guinea-pig genius, delegating poetry politician style
Perhaps, one day you will become a famous writer
Burning books, like a cigarette lighter
Until then, enjoy pushing your pen as if it was cocaine, 
Snorting up and cutting up the food chain in vain
Patronizing and ignoring those, for better or worse
A solo cup stuck up another cup, -won't even look my way
Correct me if you will, it's no big deal
Just don't forget to give me the same respect I offer you

Until then my pretty poetic friend, I kneel before no one 

By: ME
5-25-14

Details | Slam Poem |

Anxiety

This is what it feels like to have your heart racing 
and not knowing when or if it will ever slow down.
Your fatigued body can not keep up with its rapid thumping against your chest,
you’re winded after climbing a flight of steps. 
Just the thought of tomorrow leaves you gasping for air,
only its not refreshing like the first breath you take 
after being plunged under water.
It’s tight and sharp
as if your lungs are collapsing in their cage 
like two popped balloons hanging lifelessly in your chest.

This is feeling like your socks are filled with stones
and the world is zipping past you on roller skates. 
This is being a day ahead on your calendar,
never learning to live in the moment
and letting your life slip under your shaking feet. 

This is storing your past in the corner of your closet,
hoping the clutter won’t occupy the space for your self confidence,
but every now and then it likes to creep out to remind you it’s still there. 
This is remembering the time you fell off your bike in fourth grade,
or when you were tongue tied in front of your crush at age thirteen. 
You can piece events from your life together through flashbacks
that will come when you least expect it.
A flood of past emotions, still so vivid and alive,
rushes over you like a monstrous wave in the ocean
that sends you off your feet and spits you back out,
salty and heaving for air. 

This is living in a dream state,
one you wish you’d wake up from
so you can feel the ground beneath your feet. 
This is instability of the body, heart and mind.
This is learning to walk again,
carefully thinking through each step so you don’t send yourself falling.
This is questioning yourself constantly,
wondering if everything you’ve set your heart to is worthwhile,
because, afterall, your mind has been impaired by your drowsiness
of nights staring at a dark ceiling,
not knowing what is holding you from rest.

This is operating on fumes,
slowly disintegrating into just flesh and bone,
losing your focus and strength to your clouded head
and aching heart. 
This is worrying so much about what has yet to change,
that you don’t have the conscious to take a look at what is changing,
to see the nothingness that you are slowly evolving to.

This is trembling hands,
this is stuttered words,
this is the inability to unclench your tense fists.
This is independence.

This is holding yourself at gunpoint,
and not knowing which side to surrender.
This is being the enemy
and the survivor. 

This is telling yourself, “It’s going to be ok”,
but not believing in the words you use
to try to soothe your rigid body. 

You don’t know if you will be ok.
You have lost control over yourself 
before you had the chance to try and grab the wheel. 
You’ve become so attached to what is to come,
the thought of what has captured you may never cross your mind. 

Maybe one day you will learn that there is no use in trying to run from the beast,
for it will shadow your every move. 
And maybe one day you’ll learn that to stab it would be a mistake
because you will find yourself with bloody hands and a dying heart.

Details | Slam Poem |

my only hope

I fell asleep one dreary day
I lost my will, I lost my way
I ran from all I ever knew
And feared the call I was supposed to pursue.
I drank from wells set on fire
And filled my voids with unholy desires.
I dressed the part to play the role
And slowly began to lose my soul.
But, when your down and 
Shadows grow
And you finally have nowhere else to go
The only way to rise again
Is from the power of an eternal friend.
Many leave when you’re at your worst
When your hearts so heavy, it’s about to burst
Many claim so many titles
Their efforts are futile and their time is idle 
Their promises bleed through the incisions
For they can’t possibly understand the mission.
Battles have been the hardest at times
And memories have played with my mind
But, I keep marching like any good solider would
Even though most of the time I am misunderstood.
I keep on fighting the forces and the fears,
Knowing one day he will wipe away every tear.
I keep on giving it my best even when it’s not enough
For only one holds my heart when the waves get too rough.
I keep on believing that one magnificent day
I will see true glory wash away my yesterdays
I keep on believing that one marvelous day,
I will see the gates of my destiny enrapture my today.

By: Sabina Nicole

Details | Slam Poem |

Poet -This Poem is About You

-Dear, Mr & Mrs Poet- 

Do you ever question where it comes from?
This poem's about you, sit down and get a load off 
Tranquilize your pen, take heed to the ecstatic applause 

The things in life we take for granting, in time get worse 
From WHICH' our lives transverse, ascends a deep poetic curse 
You write almost everything, rehearsing every living verse 
Embezzling words, like Martha Stewart, ---NOT YOURS!
Withdrawing from your substance, 
--yielding it to others, who aren't devoted lovers 
Spacing your lines, ready for reader's digest, 
Educating the mind, like Albert Einstein

You paint a different horizon for the color blind,
Drop a note, forecasting the news, that brings, Spring to mind
Your adrenaline, leaves people with a feel good faint.
At this level, Poet you're better than high speed Internet,
Anything that makes you feel this is the real deal, 
Today, you write like there's no tomorrow, borrowing yesterday's clay
Inspiring ink, left to right, feeding the need to breed a poetic degree 
Your dramatic dialogue, deserve 'The Peoples Choice award."

I love the sweet audio, when you lowercase every word
It's done so well, hell, let's never capitalize another word
Reaching a point across, when capitalizing every letter, 
This is your world, take it, manipulate it, with the perfect stanza
Produce it like a poetic film, imagery, action, CUT it like Jerry Bruckheimer 
One day Hollywood will incite a roll, looking for the best poetry soup rhymer

Your tears and affection, you pour on partial paper,
Showing every word you want to enunciate
A SHOULDER-- gone cold, drowning, forgetting the normal way
Writing about the pure religion that meets your light, 
A beautiful flower under the moonlight
Hear the bells, Poe wrote about, adding sprinkles to the twinkle in your eyes, 
A redolent scent not meant to be forgotten, from Eden's garden
Taking nature, by course, granting her a crown, before slamming us down
I will call her out --The evil and the fury of a goddess, a beast
This is my feast, I welcome you to my jungle, and the outer bounds of time.

If you ever question where it comes from?
Sit down and get a load off, listen---Where's the ecstatic applause?
I'm not afraid to say, -----I'm Proud to be A Poet Without A Cause

by;PD
I do it for fun

Details | Slam Poem |

Toilet Bowl Committee

Toilet Bowl Committee (aka: Uptown Hood)

A lavatory confinement
my$h!tdontstinkcomode.com
---
If you want to moderate this place, pick up the pace
From the mouth down to the @$$
Your so called kind has no class,
Fed by these political rejects, never elected for what was!
No matter,
They wipe their assets clean with our dreams
Forgetting to wipe their own toilet seats clean
Trying to make us feel dirtier than scat
Feeding off our paper when their toilet bowl water level is low

Toilet bowl PO-poes, wiping without dental floss
Missing everything in between reality
Trying to be kind, saying "One Day We'll Be Good Enough!"
Offering their Golden Plunger, 
straight from the Home Depot shelves
No Thank You! My plunger a true gift from Mr. Wal-Mart himself

Next time you feel the need to offer a reference point
Please caption your name when you drop by,
Rinse thoroughly when speaking my name,
Then I will listen when you talk civilized
Correct my punctuations and spelling errors 
The weakest trait you wear
You are no Prophet, just white tissue turning brown
Your Justification comes from old dry grapes falling from the vines
Ridicule will never give you the respect, for what you are!
We, the few poets from the hood, 
overpower any change you offer Goodwill
Crumbling and flushing what does not meet your standards
Trying hard to force feed us soup, without giving us bibs

Thank you
Toilet Bowl Committee
For clogging up my drain with your bull$h!T


By: Keeping it Real (The Downtown Hood) 
Date: 12-15-13

~*~

Details | Slam Poem |

Who Am I

I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend

I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies 
through speaking my thoughts into existence

I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance 
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen

I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery 
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry

I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards

I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels

I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent  of it

I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
Judge that

I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM

Details | Slam Poem |

The Unknown

-"x+2 = 4"-

Enigmas of the soul
Do you know how it feels?

Never tasted before
Invisible Sun


PD

Details | Slam Poem |

This Buds For You

-This buds for you!-
-It takes one to know one!-
-I know you are, but what am I?-

A second hand, on my stopwatch, going nowhere!
You are a joker, a smoker, a midnight stroker  
<-------How, about that, Steve Miller song

I'm not here to talk about the way you comment a poem
That's not how I roll, now listen, and listen well, 

I don't care, about them words you speak
A whining sheep, every time you don't score
Crying behind close doors, 
Boo-Who, I did not place high in so-and-so's contest
Gosh&dammit, not everyone's on a quest
Blogging, about the day, your poem got demoted to nonsense
Trying to comment relentlessly, 
You can't top, a mountain that has no setup

I'd rather leave a copy paste comment, 
"than being fake as fake can be"
At least, my copy paste was a song, 
in which welcome the new poets on
Treating, everyone with love and security
Your invites, are cold and force, to you it's not about community
No motion, to your notion, simple, and disgusting

I don't know why you think, we are competing, 
Long ago, I left you bleeding, no reason to be defeating
Your paranoia, has you thinking, it's all about the points,
It's getting old and boring,
You cry babies are nothing more than jokes and hypocrites
Hey you, this ain't dominoes, we done pass every Jo-Jo
When, I have time I sit here for fun, my trigger finger on the gun

Reading, commenting, until my day is done
You think, because someone, left a copy paste 
That your poem was not read,
Perhaps, it was not understood, or enjoyed
Or, a welcome to the neighborhood
A nice smile, from me to you
Nice poem, You Rock!
So What! ---- WOW!

This Bud's for you
I think it's time for you to GET A LIFE!
Be glad someone took their time, in checking you out twice
Not, everyone on this site, is full of bull-shit
The smallest words, are more likely to be legit 
I don't need and expensive comment, 
I don't want to impress, when it comes to the best comment
Please do not make love to my poem!

A nice pat on my back will do, 
Now that my friend, puts a smile on my face
To know you care, to know you were there:)

Peace Out,

~SKAT~

Details | Slam Poem |

A Legend In His Own Mind

Who was that masked man?!?
Brian Williams, rides again.

He was in Amilia Earhart's plane;
even rode with the Dalton Gang.

The day the Titanic went down;
In the rescue boat when Rose was found.

He went on expeditions with Louis and Clark.
Once gave his seat to Rosa Parks.

He was actually the first man in space.
That shadow on the moon........ It's his face!

The earliest woman, they deemed to be
bones in the desert they named Lucy.
She was his niece, tho she drug her knuckles,
so he really is a monkey's uncle!

He walked miles and miles on the Trail of Tears;
wondered the desert with Hebrews for forty years.

He dated Cleopatra; drank wine with Moses;
gave the Queen of Sheba a camel and roses.

He's walked with Bigfoot in the hills;
been bitten by vampires, but magically heals.

He has had great adventures of every kind.
He's Brian Williams; a legend in his own mind.

Maybe I can be one of those news cast stars.
This is Arlene, reporting from mars........ 




Couldn't resist this little tribute to the wild stories of reporter Brian Williams who was fired for seemingly padding up his stories....

Details | Slam Poem |

BLEEDING LOVE - COLLABORATION WITH POET DESTROYER A

Pierced by shards of shattered glass 
Deeper and deeper you stab me 
With lies and venomous words 
Dissecting my heart piece by piece 
Crushed like the petals of a withered rose 
I’m dying … 
Scarlet blood seeps into my very soul 
Drip 
Drip 
Drip 
Into pieces and a bloody mess 
I scarified secrets; 
Secrets you tore and tore, 
Gracing a fake friendship, 
Trust tossed like a sweaty towel 
Now karma a poisonous snake 
You plea ... 
To be on death row, decomposing 
Dripping into the night -- Silently 
fading and fading 
Stung by my viper lips, 
smiling 
grinning 
laughing 
Until you are no more


A Poet Destroyer Collaboration

Collaboration Celebration Contest
7th August 2015

Details | Slam Poem |

Mental Hospital Bills

dadgum doctors, heads up their butts
poking, prodding, pricking skin
neurologist a psychopath
gets pleasure as electric volts pass through my body

family doctor showed little concern
made me paranoid about irregular heartbeat
EKG failed to determine cause
left me more in doubt than at ease

dentist like a character from Dustin Hoffman’s “Marathon Man”
the more pain inflicted
the more he rejoiced
deep root cleaning caused severe infection

bloodwork done by Vampira clones
labs filled with tubes and needles
results not shared with me
yet I footed the bill

optometrist an Oriental who moved so fast
didn’t care if the prescribed glasses worked
boo on you, dang aristocrats
waving your credentials

nurses so slow to respond
MRI promised on CD, but couldn’t be obtained
just like the blood tests, needed a “report”
doctors driving me insane

each should share my mental hospital bills


*Based on ongoing health tests and written for PD’s contest.  Assignment Free Verse, 25 lines, category slam, sad and educational, title: Mental Hospital Bills

Details | Slam Poem |

Guess Who's Back, Offence And Pain Aint Two Of The Same

Who'd have thought words make them react like this,
failing to see my wit, just the unattractiveness.
An eye for crudeness that'll overpower the humorous.
I'm sure within their brain a tumour lives.

Has your face ever felt the force of a fist?
It'll twist your perception like a contortionist,
because offence and pain aint two of the same.
One requires staples so that the blood's contained,
the other's just a thought you'd rather not maintain.
I get that neither are a source used to entertain,
but at the end of the day crudeness aint pain.

Offence is just a nuisance you choose to refuse,
it aint a scar, a cut or a bruise.
Scars are something you can never remove,
but when I got mine I made jokes that amused.
So can you help me now please and give me some clues,
when I'd been hit by a knuckle duster I was less confused.
Do you really feel pain when I'm crude and rude?

Please explain how words upset and leave you offended.
How does it feel and how do you end it?
Is it just simple natural sounds that you can't stand?
Compare that to soldiers losing limbs and can't stand.
If this is you I've just one thing to say my friend,
your life is easy if words drive you around the bend.

POTD
5/7/2018

Details | Slam Poem |

This is me

You wake up in the morning to look in the mirror,
To say "This is me".
To Compare yourself to what you think you should be.
"I'm fat.",
"I'm ugly.",
"How can this be?",
"Why did God do this to me?",
You put on some make-up or some acne-cream,
To cover the blemishes that others can see.
But it doesn't mater what others see,
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
And the beholder is me.
So stop annotating,
And start complimenting,
Not on what should be,
But on what is!

You were created in God's image,
Oh.
How.
Powerful.
To see who you really are,
Oh.
How.
Magical.

In that mirror is not,
"I'm fat.",
"I'm ugly.",
But a scientific creation from stardust,
Something that's way beyond us.
And what's inside is something so unique,
So special,
Because no one else has it,
It's.
Like.
Magic.

It's you!

You are the most amazing thing to walk on this Earth.
With the ability to wake up and show your worth.
So why wake up and talk negative?
When you could wake up and smile.
Why not be happy for a while?
Why try to please everyone else,
When all you have to do is be yourself?

People say "What matters is on the inside.",
And you say "But look at my outside.".
And I say there is no good side,
You as a whole is the creation,
There is no separation.
Each person with 46 chromosomes working in perfect symphony,
Destroying themselves with negativity.
Just Stop!

You are beautiful because you are rare,
Because no one else can compare.
Your face,
Your nose,
Your eyes,
With your sense of humor to comprise,
Someone no one else can match.
Try to make it in a lab...
Try throw it down the hatch.
You compare yourself to everyone else,
When you are one of a kind.
Why can't you get that in your mind?
Diamonds aren't perfect so why should you be?
Beauty is not symmetry.
Look in the mirror and what do you see?
The beauty that you are...
This is me...

Details | Slam Poem |

Ugly Words

Words with such ugly meanings
do not belong in the everyday conversation.
Contrary to popular belief
you can live another day
without disgusting proclamations.
In what way is saying, "That girl's hot as sh*t"
a compliment?
These words are not to be used frivolously
like so many condiments.
A dashing here,
and a dashing there.
What am I, Emeril Lagasse, saying BAM!
for flair?
They are not rays of sunshine
popping out of the clear blue sky.
Nor are they functioning wings
that make you soar high.
I know in truth most don't care;
F-this and f-that,
I mean really, what are you
trying to get at?
If it's just a personality trait
then I guess I'm stuck at a locked gate.
I'm not trying to pick a lock,
this is truly just how I talk.
... for sure not attempting to spread hate,
I just find it all quite unappealing.
Is it too much to ask
to measure up your words
with how you're actually feeling?

Details | Slam Poem |

Resilience

When you are pushed, push back.

...

Who do you think you are!?

The only apology in this room is you!

I refuse to hold hands with your broken memories.

Your heart
Falls unto 95 degree quicksand

Molded clay,
I now use to cover your illiterate stanza.

This flesh,
Your insignificant breath used to layer
With seductive whisper

“Please, stay”

I siphon rejected wood chunks,
From your winterized shoulder
Igniting our bridge under Summer equinox

Daring
Me

To hold you again tomorrow

Denied

…

I walk down melancholy roads
Just to hear smile’s exhale

Following Gene’s footsteps
Singing in my
Reign

Reigning supreme

For every judgment you made
Is every step I take
Every move I make
Towards rose colored stairways within
Your unseen heaven

He’ll be watching you

…

Never falling,
But rising in love

Do I
I do

I do not
Want you encased in my cerebellum

You have become a preposition with no value

Yet, still
I rise
In love

Without dependency’s fingertips
Upon my beautiful Spanish lips
Mi corazon no quieres a ti!
For my mirror, lunges true colors upon my sleeves

Forged hummingbirds unwrapping knotted Cloud 9s
Without a need for you

Without a need for you

The arrival of silence’s last stand
You will see the titanium on my hand
And your binary smile
Will evaporate unto your cracked Sapphire’s shell

As you wear my incipient exhales

Breathlessly, 
Giving you hell

…

©Drake J. Eszes

Details | Slam Poem |

Woodstock

~Woody Wood From the Hood~

Deep, inside yourself, you walk a sour way of life,
Carving my name, on every tree with a hunting knife
You log in, then log out
A Birdman So Fickle, he Stinks of doubt!

Blind today, bald tomorrow, 
Big Bird, will be your only friend
I can't seem to forget the day, you shed your final skin
Revealing a darker snake, than the one in my garden
Leaving the word betrayal, up to the imagination 

Trust not the fool, who thinks his halo is heaven sent
Using a fake ballpoint pen dietary supplement
Thinning out his wings, and losing the symbolic meaning

Aging in a way, that spreads crows feet from top to bottom
Sapsucker revolving yellow as if it was always autumn
Pecking Hard Wood, MR Pecker of all woodpeckers 
Forgetting who's the real Home-wrecker

Your dragging pants are no bother, Mr Woodpecker!
I've gotten used to the tree talking and your creative vision
Let's just say, "Gangster to Gangster, I gave you a mission."
Keep rapping and tapping the same old street sign, 
Woodstock, on demand, crap out the peanut punch
Whatever suits you for breakfast and lunch
Don't forget dinner's also about me

Go ahead!
Peck away with deception, reveal your sullen evil feathers  
A disease urine Birdman, doing it snoopy style
A flightless, lightless liar, nothing about him's worthwhile
Keep manipulating the weak, whatever turns you on
I'm not ready to shoot you down with my shotgun

~SKAT~