Spoken Word Poems | Examples of Spoken Word Poetry

THE GROOVE IS MIGHTY HIGH/ LET’S THROW DOWN AND FLY UP TO THE SKY/ KEROUAC BLOWIN’WORD JAZZ WITH STRINGS/MILES AT THE BLACK KAWK, MAN WHAT A SCENE/ JACK AND MILES WALKED THE WALK AND TALKED THE JAZZ TALK/ NO BLUE NOTES HERE/JUST HIGH NOTES OF BE-BOP KOOL/ MAN I’M INTO THIS JAZZ SCENE/SAY BABY WHATCHA SAY?...

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If the message doesn’t have lights, If the preacher doesn’t rhyme, If the singer isn’t “branded” enough, You say it’s not Spirit-filled. Since when did the Holy Ghost depend on your playlist? I cry for you. I cry for the singer drowning in the noise of their gift. For the preacher who can draw a crowd but can’t discern demons. For the Christian...

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Let’s stop pretending. This isn’t evangelism. This is idolatry in disguise. You’ve baptized compromise and called it creativity. You’ve clothed rebellion in relevance, And made God’s altar a stage for your ego. How much more of the world must you wear Before you realize the Gospel is naked truth Not a costume for cultural approval? How many times must you flirt with sin Before you...

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If you cannot overcome lust in the time of grace, What makes you think you will stand in the days without it? For the trumpet is close, the sky ready to split And only the righteous shall be removed from the wrath to come. Flee now while mercy still calls. Run from the screen, the scene, the shadow, the scroll. Run...

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I lift my eyes from the place of my struggle, From the dark corners where battles rage unseen. My help comes from the Lord, Maker of heaven, earth, and the depths of my heart. Lust has destroyed more than wine ever could It cloaks itself in pleasure, But its bite is sharper than steel. It kisses the lips, then devours the soul. It...

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WORSE THAN DOGS Mi step off di docks, salt burn in mi chest, Suit sharp-press, hope pin to mi vest. Windrush blood, calypso fire, Dreams of gold — meet cold barbed wire. “Welcome,” dem sneer wid a crooked grin, Door slam shut — all ‘cause a mi skin. Signs in window cut like knives: NO BLACKS. NO DOGS. NO IRISH. — lives. But truth...

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I open my mouth My anger spills out I say things I don’t mean And mean things I won’t say Damage Oh such damage Strangers or friends Words I can’t defend Family is broken From words that I’ve spoken When will it end? Damage Too much damage So conflicted I’ve inflicted So much hurt So much pain Words like weapons Sharper than knives Killing dreams Shredding lives Damage Unjustified Unspeakable Damage Bludgeoning words Shattered spirits Wounded hearts Crippled lives Killing words Chilling words Handful of syllables Damage ...

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Chasing the Heartbeat Heart racing, pulse chasing, I used to be a living hell, But your love, man, it knocked me off my feet, your kiss was sweet candy made of sugar cane, I’m no longer bound, not tied to my past, but on this mind-bending road of truth, I found in the gospel...

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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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