Spoken Poems - Poems about Spoken

The smoky clubs of thought/ where shadows dance and poets talk of truth whispered low/man, a story without end/ can you dig it, my friend/ improvisation’s the key, always unlocked in time, a jazz riff echoing truth in research of a paradigm/ assumptions about the nature of reality in jazz talk, scales, and harmonies, the...

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I’m losing a battle I did not choose to fight in, I have waited nearly fourteen years for freedom. There is still no stopping him. I lay next to someone I adore and He still clogs my thoughts like hair in drainage. I glance at my love as they sleep, Peaceful and snoring softly, And I wish I could...

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Andy O’(Snaps fingers rhythmically) The air hangs thick with midnight blue/And the city hums a graffiti tune/ a voice cuts through, a velvet blade/Andy O’, where stories are made/Poet, Musician, Broadcaster's soul/Navigating the sonic scroll of a downbeat that will never fade/KUVO Jazz, a haven's light/On Sunday nights, banishing the uptight/The Nightside a whispered...

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ping! like pavlov's dog, i glance quick at my phone new facebook follow request. i click the account click! my rapist. it's been nearly 14 years since the first the time he laid his hands on me but i feel them like it was this morning. ping! his son liked my post on Instagram , are they working together? are they a team again? father and son, teacher and apprentice, master of none but...

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I’ve knocked on every door of medicine men— doors painted with hope. Swallowed pills of every size and colour. Been told, “This one never fails.” Another promise— fulfilled only in disappointment. The body that once felt mine now feels like a stranger’s— still wearing my name tag. I sleep early, trying to rinse myself from pain, but wake up still dressed in it. The coat I wear? Pain-stitched— by a tailor...

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I walked where the trees don’t speak— yet somehow, I heard everything. The wind and the trees held secret meetings, and the leaves nodded in agreement, like spectators dressed in green. The waters didn’t rush— they marched steadily down the riverbank, telling stories in ripples— of rain that once fell, and mountains they had kissed on the way. The sun appeared, golden and gentle. Snakes and lizards...

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Why does the sky keep falling — but never fall? Each dusk a slow descent, yet it never shatters. How do planets remember the path their fathers walked? No traffic signs, whatsoever! yet still, none collides with the other. Why do clouds — swollen and quiet — give birth to rain, already full-grown, ready to kiss the earth? Who whispers to the raindrops which road to take? Which village...

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There is a silent visitor inside you now — softer than fresh-baked bread, more precious than gifts from wise men of the East. A second heartbeat, gently echoing beneath your own. You carry more than a name. You carry memories yet to be made, a mirror of past souls, a vessel for tomorrow’s joy. So walk gently, eat wisely, rest fully. That bottle of cider — it whispers...

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You put me in a box— 'Cause that’s what makes you comfortable. You put me in a box— 'Cause that’s what makes you strong. You put me in a box And tell me That’s where I belong. You put me in a box To keep me Contained. Controlled. You put me in a box To strip away my soul. You put me in a box And seal it up...

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Let’s give it one more go— Don’t let a good thing die so fast. Don’t let one moment bring us down; Together, we can beat the past. Let’s try again—maybe we’ll make it. But if we don’t, I promise you this: I won’t try to fake it. If you leave me now, I won’t last another hour. I can’t go on living If your sweet love...

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That Chosen Day Where will you be when Christ returns, Will you be in His will as He yearns. What will you be doing on that chosen day, Living in sin thinking it will be years away. Will you be ready when the trumpets sound, And the clouds part as our Savior comes down. When He returns,...

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The bridge/ Hear that?/ Snap it pop it / Not the one of stone and steel, holding cars and trains aloft/ This bridge hums/ It vibrates/ yellin’, mo’ funk and groove please woven into the boss horns strung with a bassline thick as smoke and Clyde Stubblefield holding down the fat beat/ Acid Jazz...

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“Are you okay?” They ask me as my grandfather gets ripped from his bed. “Are you okay?” They ask me as i acfively watched my grandfather die. “Are you okay?” They ask me after seeing tears streaming down my face. “Are you okay?” “Am i okay?” What even is “okay”. What do i have to feel to be “okay”. This question...

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When those in this nation, ...

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I am evil. I am evil. And still, in my evil, don’t leave me, Lord. If You walk away, I will fall. My flesh will devour me. I’ve tried to please You with everything in me, but I can’t. I can’t. My strength is not enough. I need Yours. I’ve fought sin until my knuckles bled, but I keep losing. I can’t save myself. Son of David, have mercy...

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