Masquerade
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Joined: 05 Jun 2007
Posts: 3803
Location: Sleeping in the rain
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 Posted: Tue Apr 15, 2008 2:24 pm Post subject: Slam Poem |
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This is my currently Untitled, first draft Slam Poem for writing class. A slam poem is basically an opinionated piece about a social or personal issue that the speaker feels strongly about. They are recited out loud with a fast rhythm, a lot of the time in competition. My slam poem is about self image. [I left out punctuation and capitalization right now, just to work with the flowing of the words].
Let me know what you think.
broken mirrors reflect old magazines
filled with articles of utter nonsense
and times where I was nonsensical enough to read them
believe them
times so long ago now
two books strapped together with duct tape
and old wrapping paper
stars dancing across the cover on beautiful stripes
of colour
reds and greens and gold
and on the inside: black pages
that took ages to burn
stories past and would be feelings
feeling like that was all there was
because maybe- just maybe
i could fool myself for one minute
at a time
hours spent on websites
at night
broken allegations of something better
letters written, never sent
brought me back to when there were none
and all i wanted was to be nothing
nothing more than a shadow on a wall full of posters and clippings
pictures dripping with smiling faces and encouragement
wondering why i even went there, i contemplated
about why, why i cared anymore
not about seeing past myself
on the shelf were memories, a past life
but not a lost one
and i knew i could reach that again
just a little higher on the step ladder
all that mattered
was seeing me as me
dark hair, dark clothes, eyes blue
blue as the feeling on a rainy day
but, then again, i’ve always enjoyed dancing in the rain
no matter the pain of seeing reflections
i could stamp them all out
every single one
and the pitter patter of raindrops turned into the clapping of hands
and, just for once,
i was a hero.
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Insomniac depression or Ryan Ross obsession?<3
   
Things have changed for me. And that's okay. I feel the same. [There's nothing wrong with being Pretty. Odd.] |
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