Maybe A Spoken Word Poem Novels & Stories

-Lang Leav #PoetryDay" Nakaramdam ako ng pagkamangha sa'king mga nabasa so I liked one of the posts. How could they write things like that? Damang-dama ko ang bawat salitang ginamit nila. How could they express their feelings through writing? Nagbasa pa ako ng ibang poetry ng makatanggap ako ng message from unknown person. "Hi!" he said. "Hello," I replied. "Thanks for liking my poetry!" he told his gratitude. "You're welcome," I said. "Are you also a poet?" he asked me. "No..." I replied. "Why not?" he asked again curiously. "I don't know how to make one," I explained. "It's just your feelings through words." he tried to comfort me.

my eyes glance at the first word on the last two lines and say, “EN” “KAREN?” He calls out and I look up at him. “Yes?” I answer and I frown when I see him concentrating on the word without pressing the enter button. “No, I mean the word you just gave me is KAREN, as in your name.” I am still having a hard time understanding what he’s saying until I glance up and look at the arrangement of the poem, and then I understood and realise that it’s Karen. Then it hit me what I haven’t thought of since all the while. This is the World of Poetry and like William said earlier, he has always wanted to be a poet, but what I never asked was if he has tried writing any poem because from what I just saw,

I stop. I have said what I have. It is not twelve lines, and it does not have the specific precision of a poem. It is just the true thing, said in front of thirty-one people, in the only language available to me. Which has always been the point. Dr. James looks at Sophia. Sophia looks at me. She takes a breath. Not steadying. Opening. The specific quality of someone who is about to say the true thing and is making room in themselves for what it costs.

"You think" "I think everyone is a poet," he stated "one just needs to find the right words to write, and an ink to pen them down" he expatiated. "Well, I think, that was yet another lousy attempt at poetry" He seemed to have mustered up a little courage as we talked, so he turned to me "So tell me, Jane doe," he said "do you write?" "Nope," I said "I have better things to do" "Would you mind telling me about them?" He asked but the silence that followed, was his answer. Not that I mind, but it just suddenly dawned on me that I had been speaking with a complete stranger for minutes. One of the events I can assure you, are unprecedented.

I wanted to outshine other kids and show that I was a future alpha, and hence, I chose to write a rhyming poem while everyone else stuck with writing an essay. And as I was extremely eager, I volunteered to go first, unlike other children who were reluctant to go up on the stage. I still recall the embarrassment I've felt, the tears I've shed, and the laughter of other children when they laughed at me after I've finished reciting my poem. That's because what I wrote was cringe and I used certain words I had only heard and had no idea what they meant. One such word was 'fúck'. Yeah, fuck.

They usually arrive in the early hours of the day, but this day was different. I raced towards it, my heart jumping in excitement. Running my tongue across my glossy lips, I read: 'You don't have to leave the house for my sake. Should I say, I enjoy teasing you but it is not my wish to do so. Do get a full length mirror, and you'll get to see me. And I'll gladly aid you in getting a magnificent orgasm.'

I almost laughed when I heard Flora say all that. After a long pause, I finally said in a calm voice, "Flora, have you lost your mind? I'm your younger brother, and that's all I'll ever be in this life. I have school here overseas. You want me to throw everything away and go back? Not happening."

he walks away I let out a sigh Don't worry mum, I'll find you and am going to free you from him This monster, I hope you're still alive Roses are red And so are some lipstick My poems probably making you guys sick But once you see it you'll know you've come to the end of another episode You could do something better than reading it though Like maybe kissing Santa on a mistletoe Yeah you got me I just wanted a rhyme Thanks for reading my lines (see what I did there) If you laugh you'll surely die Sorry don't be scared I'm just kidding Am probably sure you're wishing for this to end

Group presentations usually took half of the first period and since this was poetry club, I was hardly interested in it. Malik and I had found seats at the far back of the hall. While they introduced the first presenter; Mofe. "Hello everyone, Mofy here and I will be presenting a poem written by Sarima Egwakhide titled Texting with him". she proceeds to start her poem and soon everyone is silent listening to the words. It's a love poem from the hoots from girls and boys alike. I look away from the stage for a split second and my eyes fell on Chidimma, she smiled at me, a smile I reciprocated and then her friends; Abby and Sarima whispered something her ears then they both laugh except her wh

“Aaah, there are days when stress attacks the serene Moniquinha in a unique way! That day I was fed up with the hunch of the aunties who show up twice a year to talk about little pumpkins. On your birthday and at Christmas. Always like this! So, a little poem was born, from the way home to the dentist appointment. they will talk They will talk. They'll say it's been too fast, that we barely know each other. They'll say that we've been dating for many years, that we're dragging it out - or being bullied.