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#slampoetry
fictionist1 · 1 month
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Care for this dance?
by Tanya Saxena They say the pen Is mightier than the sword They say words hurt more Deeper than rocks Stepping in your shadow Was my biggest mistake Cuz the shadow tried to overtake And completely ruined my image Shattered, broken and crumbled Someone else tried to pick up the pieces Reminiscing with me regarding our past Won’t get me through my ‘supposed’ phases You mock me, you…
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theglycoprotein · 10 months
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I know I don't post much on Tumblr anymore, but that doesn't mean that my poems aren't being written and performed everywhere and anywhere. On Friday night I competed in a poetry slam in Edinburgh, my home city - the competition was fierce, the writing and performances were top notch and it really could have been anyone's to win... and I only went and won!
This means I'll be competing against 11 other poets from all across Scotland in the grand slam final as part of the Edinburgh International Book Festival at the end of August. I honestly cannot wait!
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punkmeetspastel · 4 months
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I always believed In right person, wrong time because you were it for me. My person, my missing half. Now, you're 4 years of lost love too young to know better too old to risk trying 4 years of yearning... but she'll get everything I so foolishly believed I was earning; is this learning? If growing up means watching your wedding from the back and living life without you, I want to stop growing.
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hotpinkbarbie · 1 year
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WHY DO U SEARCH FOR LOVE AND KNOCK ON EVERY DOOR YOU SEE? ITS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, YOU IDIOT.
my mother cried because i was curled up in bed. it was, as if, she could feel my heart's weight but all it did was anchor her by my side. my brother (6) lay in bed with me when i was sick. he said "i don't care if i get sick i just want to be with you and i just want you to stop feeling sad."
there was this girl who smiled at me and called my name every time it rained. it's like she knew the downpour made my bones ache a little less.
she held onto me, not on anyone in the crowd surrounding her. her frenzied hands interlocked with mine as i pulled her in. "stop crying. it makes me sad" i begged.
my friend gifted me a book. i found her kisses stashed inside the pages.
and yes, i haven't had much encounters with love, because people are afraid to show how much they care, but if this is all i get? i'll die a happy death.
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tmdoxydoslampereur · 1 year
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Sur les ondes de la radio #JAMBO_FM à bukavu. La question était : " TM DOXYDO qu'est qui t'inspire et pourquoi tu bosses souvent (à 95%) avec les filles (slameuse) ??? Réponse : je m'inspire à cette parole " la femme est un être faible " vraiment cette parole ne m'arrange pas et je condamne sévèrement les fausses accusations de ce monde inconscient. Pourquoi 95% de tes morceaux (seulement les slameuses) ? Pour prendre en témoin ce monde inconscient et lui prouver combien elles sont capables faire autrement. Elles sont l'image du potentiel. #FemmeForce #F2 #lumiere #beauté #art #humain #slampoetry #MrHumilité #tmdoxydo_Slamaestro https://www.instagram.com/p/CrTlyF_LjWG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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cancer-kid-miles · 1 year
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Old love letters sit on my bedroom floor, words that now scream of betrayal. I wrote you so many of them, all singing of dedication and love. Like a bird forever calling home.
But you left me a letter today, cold and unfeeling. Goodbyes left in stark black ink, telling me of your hidden resentment and doubts for months. Words I have been begging for for months, leaving you blanks in prompts built like a 4th grade English assignment only for you to turn it in and I can’t even give you points for participation in conversation.
While I was writing you all these love letters, on the back you were secretely composing breakup songs. While I was feeling at home in your arms, you were breaking my heart with every note, leaving a melody so haunting I hear it on a loop.
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chrisbernstorf · 2 years
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🙌 Ya'll are so kind! My blue variants of the new Guest Book: The Mixtape got claimed up after just 4 hours of being out! Fire Truck Records still has some of the red variants. Each one comes with instructions for making these two original cocktails I designed for the release, one alcoholic and one zero proof! Just head to the link below, buy any digital release from the Fire Truck Records bandcamp, and get one of these for free as a gift in the mail! 🙌
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These are preorder, so they should ship in about a month!
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🍸 Cheers! 🍸
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Firetruckrecords.bandcamp.com
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📸 Amanda Bernstorf
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SDG
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plants-in-my-soul · 1 year
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I'm falling in Love with the same Girl again and I realize, maybe I don't ever stopped to love her.
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nixxyvenuspoetry · 1 year
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I stopped using the term "broken" to define how you left me, because that implies that I gave you the power of shaping me. No. You did not break me. You don't have that power. You left me…and…I'm still whole. A whole lot more than what you deserve. If you liked this & would like to support, you can purchase my Ebook via the link in my IG bio 🫶 #poetry #spokenword #spokenpoetry #rol #performance #poet #writer #latina #fyp #latinafollowtrain #poem #book #writer #writersoftiktok #fyp #poet #writer #poetryslam #slam #slampoetry #supportsmallbusiness #creator (at Venice Beach, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnOK0FzL_Oe/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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rainy-day-writer · 2 years
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I think I've been depressed, lately.
The days go by
Monotonously - I get lost
In the noise of the TV,
And when I find my way back
I can't discern how much time has passed.
My children need me,
My body needs sleep.
My head won't clear itself enough
To remember to eat.
I need rest, I need time, I need space for myself.
I'm burnt out, unimpressed, cynical, I need help.
The smell in the air brings back memories but not – of an event,
or a trauma, just a feeling and the feeling isn't pleasant
The days all blur together like a color palette- mixing
Into ugly shades of brown and grey
and streaked
With tangible, identifiable colors.
but as soon as I reach out for one it seems to get brushed away
Into the muddy mess on a paintbrush with no canvas
My life is headed nowhere as society collapses
I try to keep a smile on my face and pretend
For my children
For my spouse
For the future generation
That I have hope but I'm so afraid
Because guns matter more than children.
I never imagined that I might worry,
and consider keeping my children
home from school so they’re not the next
victims
Of a school massacre
Because a young adult who has less control over his actions
and emotions
Than my four year old
Has access to a weapon that will kill a hundred in seconds.
And I'm Afraid because two men kissing each other
is viewed as more dangerous
Than the white men in uniform
Who can kill you legally,  
As long as the color of your skin
is within a certain range
but, it's not a racial thing anyway,
If he wasn't ready to die he shouldn't have committed a crime.
But while we're on that topic,
what about the missing women?
Millions of indigenous women
but the media's gone silent
because no one really cares unless
you're Gabby Petito and have a billion
Instagram followers clinging
To your every move
Because women are a commodity
and it's worse if you're not white,
and that's another thing,
about those people who claim to be PRO LIFE
The rich white elite will ALWAYS
have access to
discreet medical procedures,
If you know what I mean
And the rest will do what they've done since the dawn of time,
In back alley slaughterhouses - not
The slaughter of fetuses
but of the desperate people looking for a last resort.
So in banning abortion you're just condemning
poor people to die.
But that doesn't matter because 58% of people
below the poverty line don't fit your blond-haired blue-eyed ideal,
the way the unborn fetuses do because they're
not real
and it's never been about
Saving anyone.
I would pray for our future but God is dead,
Humanity killed her with corporate greed and instead
We just trudge through a society bent
on controlling and killing the masses
And steel ourselves for another day in hell.
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fictionist1 · 2 months
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Fool's Gambit...
by Tanya Saxena Been hiding behind my walls Ever since the start Tearing them down Was never really a good path I stare at new faces Everyday of my life Who could ever be trusted In a world of black and white Lies are used To uncover the truth But truth is always hidden From anyone’s point of view Manipulation is the fool’s gambit Where two sides wage a war A fool and a…
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retrofatale · 1 year
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I’m house mom tonight for @syrensofthesouth Tease Tuesday Burlesque at @redlightcafe! Front row VIP is sold out, second row VIP is almost sold out, we do have General Admission still available so come out tonight for a hot time on a cool night! #teasetuesdayatl #redlightcafe #burlesque #atlanta #atlantaburlesque #burlesqueshow #atl #thingstodoinatlanta #atlantanightlife #syrensofthesouth #allbodiesarebeautiful #burlesqueperformer #spokenword #slampoetry #circusperformers #gothgirl #goth #femmepresenting #nonbinary #model #alternativemodel #lgbtqia #thicc #curvy #festish #pinup #photography #photoshoot #OF #swer (at Red Light Cafe) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmH4Y8uO2AV/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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presicelypoetic · 2 years
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Abstract Art:
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Trigger warning: SA. Please Practice self care.
Do you see what I see?
The 1 in 2 , 1 in 3. 1 in 4. and me?
The rips the tears the black and blue hues I never thought I would use
The purple and teal that helped me heal
It was those that I trusted that I would fear
Their face engraved in a painting so dear
Over 300,000 paintings made each and every year
They left imprints on my canvas 
They made slashes that would stay
They forced colors on my painting
That will never go away
Each stroke of their brush 
Each color that they used
Created a hurt that ensued
this piece that is mine 
but feels owned by them too
I tried covering it up with something new
But  their colors still show through
I cried on this canvas 
Just like others do too
When I was asked “why should I believe you?’
I hated my painting
I was disgusted
So I splattered green paint on the parts I mistrusted
I wasn’t used to the critiques 
They made me feel shame
The embarrassment of a painting that made me self-blame.
I questioned my painting
Just like others have too
Its beauty, its worth, 
its value, its truth
Would others understand like survivors do?
I was in highschool when this piece was made.
But it’s evolved over time
And I’ve grown and I’ve changed
Do you see what I see?
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etherealchanhee · 1 year
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it's over - and i'm not angry about it.
it's over - and i'm not angry about it.
my heart aches and pleads
and id give anything to go back to yesterday
but i'm not angry about it.
it's over - and my head is full and flooded with you
and thoughts of us
but i'm not angry about it.
it's over - and even my skin is tainted with you
and i am filled to the brim with regret
but i'm not angry about it.
it's over - and you are in everywhere i look,
and everything i do is for the first time since you've been gone
but i'm not angry about it.
it's over - and last words fill my skull
"i'm sorry"s and "you would've fucking hated it"s repeat
but i'm not angry about it.
because it's over.
and now: i am free
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tmdoxydoslampereur · 1 year
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🔔ATELIER D'ÉCRITURE ✍ Bonjour Les amis ! Notre rendez-vous autour d'une écriture saine c'est aujourd'hui 23 au 25 mars à l'espace SLAM (14h30). Vous êtes artiste rappeur, poète-slameur désirant améliorer votre manière de faire. ceci vous concerne. #GomaSlamSession 🙏 #EcritureSaine #slampoetry #RappConscient #humain # #tmdoxydo_Slamaestro (à Goma, Congo) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqHn5w6jL7g/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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cottageash · 2 years
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"The earth is bathed in a smoky husk of grey and and tinge of green musk from the incoming hail, all is lost. Yet when the moon shines, the ocean is covered in a thin layer of silver silk, reflecting the miracles flying by. In the midst of the darkest of dark the moon persists with the shine of a thousand stars to allow the caterpillar a clear path to the perfect spot for its cocoon. Each dawn as the grey smog and green husk settles and tears arise, the moon stays, with all intent to light the way. The ocean compliments that very moon by swaying in sync and attempting to reach out. Attempting to capture the beauty of it rather than simply being cloaked in their prepossessing dress of silver silk. Weaved for the dear Waters by the dear moon, is that silk. But when the dusk approaches and the moon starts to grow tired, the smoky husk of grey and green musk return, clouding yet another day, awaiting the return of the silver silk weaver."
by ashlynn may
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