poetry slam

Below we have included our favorite poems sent to us by readers and our team for this month’s poetry slam. Remember that each month you can send in poems to be included!

Dear Mother Nature,

Thanks, but no thanks. I want a do-over.

I want to be Factory Reset.

I need someone to delete everything that makes the rest of me glitch out.

No more stuttering when I remember how much I hate my voice,

no more tripping over curbs because I was staring at my big feet.

I want someone to snap my shoulders backwards when I walk down the street,

giving my neck the strength to hold my head high.

No, better.

I want to strip the flaw from my brain

the same way teenage girls peel away the dirt in their pores,

I want loathing and disgust to speckle the sticky paper.

When it tears away my soul is fresh and smooth

and everything I wasn’t before.

Here I am, everything you wanted me to be.

Here I am, everything I was supposed to be.

No, even better.

Forget the factory reset, scratch the stripping of my flaws.

I want to look at the red blotches and bumps on my skin and see constellations

like the girls with Instagram feeds filled with skinny, perfect bodies say I should.

I want to look at the bags under my eyes as something other than ugly purple stains.

I want to look at my doughy thighs and see a place for someone to trace their fingers,

smooth and soft and gentle,

tickling my skin like a paintbrush tickles a canvas.

I want to look at my long legs and arms like watercolor wings,

as dainty instead of daunting,

or graceful instead of gawky.

I want to be placed in a museum so that I can be told I am a work of art instead of a childish crayon drawing.

By Sydney Fallon

Self Analysis

last night i looked into the mirror like i would if i was watching a bad storm outside my window; frightened, yet somehow still intrigued. i imagine the eerie-ness of this old creaky house after the lights go out would completely embody who i am, or, rather, who i’ve become. tons and tons of inconceivable pondering. i push the thoughts back into a dark corner of my mind in which i never plan to visit; kinda like the one in my room with the tangles of mangled spiderwebs that im not entirely sure how they got there. no, this reflection i gaze at is not conventional. im accepting that i will never be the white picket fence american dream. but i am ethereal in my own way, all the same.

By Kaiti

The Real World

A perfect universe, is it real?

Where the hallows walk among us and the sinners stay too low

A perfect universe, define it

Does it consist of unwavering truthfulness from strangers? Do you dare to utter a lie?

The world that we exist in, in which heroism gets buried so you only get to save yourself

See earth is impractical, men in black with their fastidious behavior

Almost like robots roaming around to find imperfections

They adjust their ties, then get going with so called important life or death matters

Pitch black suitcases that carry your insignificant life

Dreary faces that usurp your right to freedom

In earth you don’t always get to breathe whenever you want, you need a green card

You have to pay your way through evolving

But men in black aren’t the only ones making this world a better place

Can’t forget about impeccable characters that rebuke the lower middle class

Trying to delude us into their propaganda set ages ago

Those sanctimonious, self righteous and superior men thrive on weak power

For world domination? Or to gain personal pleasures from the life they claim to love

In long towers and wide mansions, empowered with the sound of the broken wood from the homes they destroyed in order to build their infamous yet squeaky clean reputation

This is the perfect life, the one that causes silenced uprisings

A life in dark shadows which is ignored yet so loud.

#TakeAKnee #DefendDACA

Hitchhike Your Way

Dedicated to the embodiment of inspiration, Fai

To love yourself is more than just an eventful trip,

full of stops and continuous improvements.

To love yourself comes deep within.

That doesn’t just include your skin but also your cells.

To love what made you, all your thoughts and emotions.

And that’s the real trip

To love what goes inside your head and forgive yourself

To stop harboring resentment and let go of all the uncomfortable feelings you made yourself develop.

You get so accustomed by how much you wrong yourself, you forget

You forget that your clinginess that you hate, is what reminds others how good it is to be important.

And all the enthusiasm you show, is what keeps your loved ones so eager to tell you.

To love yourself, comes deep within.

You keep traveling around the world to find that pill you can just take and suddenly love yourself.

But never settling on a land’s soil is hard, and even harder when you can’t settle in your own skin.

But to love your outer surface is a mission too.

To let a standard determine your beauty is something, and letting those around you determine your beauty is what we’re guilty of.

Kids love themselves, until they realize that their skin is too dark and their eyes too small.

Don’t let your right get stripped from you, take a risk and love your thick skin and big nose.

Love the body you never chose but it still protects you.

Adore your scars, your thoughts, manufactured flaws and break all the standers.

Love your short legs, your weak hair, your small eyes, big nose, and petite body.

Love the body you didn’t want to be born in and love the thoughts you can’t stop.

Don’t feel obliged to apologize for being outstanding.

Self love comes deep within so dig deep and capture your astonishing core.

By Robin

Palm

she lay down as the last rays of brightness snuck through the slivers of her eyelids.

he holds her head as she whispers and weeps,

but he can’t hear her cries.

she asks him why me, why me.

the sugar swirled with her tears in her stomach as she yelled louder and louder,

she just wants to be loved for what she is.

deep down she would do anything for whatever being walked the earth.

her heart had once been full and she yearned to return it to that state.

but what she is is a monster created by everyone in her life.

everything they have ever said has pierced her skin, and poisoned her heart,

and left her hopeless and helpless.

every time they touched her, they broke off a piece of her soul

creating an empty space inside of her

mind

and leaving behind

rage.

she had an ounce of sunshine left that she stretched out for everyone she knew

because she thought that she might receive some light in return.

but she kept finding darkness until she couldn’t see through the thick black atmosphere.

a fist formed from the depths of the deep enclosure and grabbed her by the neck,

suffocating her until her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

she had been sheltered her entire life in attempts to keep her safe just to find it was the

same shelter that was killing her.

she was lying in the darkness pleading for help but he just sat there watching her.

begging for a being to let him hear her.

she reached out and touched her palm to his,

just to watch his own figure slowly fade to black,

and sink right through her fingertips.

By Virginia Cannella

Tag: poetry slam

October Poetry Slam