Annual Emerging Poets Slam 2019
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Your skin, Paler than a jug of farm fresh milk. Your lips, Dryer than a drought in Death Valley. Your nose, More crooked than Hillary Rodham Clinton. Your hair, Rougher than ‘98 Compton California. Your eyes, Deader than roadkill on I
In a tight connection bound
That Mother Nature herself had wound,
A leaf and branch exist in unison
Until frigid winter steps in.
I know no more impressive masterpiece
Than the one all can behold.
Countless leagues away,
But its art all can know.
With the finest painter's brush,
It was measured by a ruler
And reached knee-high.
Quite a riot it would stir
As it climbed high to the sky.
The mighty oak of any place
The high torrent of a single wave
Is not always here to stay,
For the damp sandy shoreline
Provides an impassable divide
Between the ultimately free
This thing, it bothers me
shakes my entire being
it is neverending
poison
I have absolutely no idea how to deal with it
it breathes inside of me
tears away all rational thought
TEARS That Can HEAL an OPEN WOUND
by Delasia Vanterpool
A boy who is very blue, sat by himself in school.
My worth is not in
the shape of my lips
the curve of my hips
the curl of my toes
the shape of my nose
the size of my ass
the symmetry of my breasts
