Slam poetry: that magical mix of rhythm and rhyme.
Write about anything that grieves, my heart, soul, and anything keeping me from feeling whole. I'm going to make my pen deliver my soul.
By ©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse6 years ago in Poets
And I got as far as opening up my email. Then, continued to the icon. In the browser dialogue box, I typed: G-M-A-I-L dot com.
Don't try to alter them, or repost it, like a twitter post. It's got be revealed, in the same way, the world showed me what it was, when I wrote it down, in my notebooks.
It's tough, honestly, trying to get accustomed to people who only, look out for themselves. When you'd do, anything for them.
I must push you, force you, make you. — You won’t move, speak, walk along the line without me attempting to guide you
By Cali Hollyhill6 years ago in Poets
The after thought of some bad decision. Resulting in a two and 1/4 pound, mistake one night, eventually, sliced open by a C-Section,
Buddha, says: The foot feels the foot when it feels, the ground. Ergo, now that I've found my footing (and the seeds, in my feet, have found soil)
I just went to dinner, with a friend, today. An Italian spot, everyone said was pretty hot. So we went and checked it out.
We are not fucking cool. You can't just, say the things, you've said, do the things you do, hurt a persons soul. Rip their heart to pieces,
By ©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse7 years ago in Poets
They come in all shapes and sizes, deviant fiends. Disguised sometimes, as civilized human beings. Suck, at the verve of your soul, till it bleeds.
I had a dream, about you... your mom was also dying from the same, shit that took your grandmother too. And you were a frantic and displaced man.
Trapped in my own truth. Miseducation has reared its ugly head submerged my ignorance in the saliva in my mouth. And at once, my words became sharp; and frequently uncouth.
