Slam stories, books, poems, and more
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Hoplophobia Gunshot blast of a sound timpanic struggle of reverberatting echo -another round in a Chambers bound to stir literati. Consequential notions fold as drum rolls tally the beat and toll paid in Shells spent like dry ink cartridges. Pearl handled Pen in Hand Quick or dead better life bible…
You know when you're in a poetic mood? You know when you have too many ideas at the same time? You know when you realise you're asking rhetorical questions, but still want an answer? You know when you ask something but already know the answer? You know when you lose…
A girl in a world full of horrors. The life of a teenage girl? No.. More complex.. A life of a teenager she goes through these troubles.. Monsters.. Witches.. It all seems like a fairy tail now doesn't it? But i can Garentee its not.. Sh.. You will learn more…
People call her a monster, but she doesn't quite think so. To her, it is the nature of a different kind. To write her off as something inhumane was the worst thing you could do. And it's her turn to tell you why.
Continuing in my incredible poetic funk, I decided to end the short week I've had with a quick shout to a few people, combined into one passive-aggressive piece of slam poetry. Here's hoping I get out of this hole I've written myself into, CHEERS!