Tag Archives: slam poetry

#87: Leftovers

I gave you my heart,

All of what was left of it,

I should have known better,

For now it’s worse,

Than what I started with

© Aisha-Nicole 2015

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#78: V O I D

It’s my fault,

I made you a demigod,

I expected you to eradicate the pain,

I made you more than just what you are

I sacrificed on an open altar,

Hope, dreams and what was left of a battered heart–

Desiring some sort of closure,

I pinned you to cracked walls,

And worshiped,

Day and night,

I sought an answer,

And In the end I came up with nothing,

It’s not you, it’s me—

I looked to you for something you were never able to give

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

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#25: Closed Chapter

Closed Chapter

I can now chuckle,

I can now let the air carry the melody of my laughter,

I can sit still and hear my heart beat,

I can smile,

I can hear our song,

I can trace your face,

I can think back,

And I can feel.


I can savor every moment,

Every word uttered and every glance,

I can do this now,

Miles away,

I have grown.


Once blindsided,

Pain subsided,

I can trace our footsteps,

Distant memories,

And promises of forever,

Hearts intertwined,

Mesmerized and dazed,

I can now wish you the best,

And raise a glass to a closed chapter.


©Aisha-Nicole 2013

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#24: Winter Bliss

Winter Bliss

Have you ever been in a snow storm?

A tidal wave of individually crafted ice trinkets,

That cascade and overtake a landscape,

Manipulating the earth into a an endless stretch of starch white glimmer,


Have you ever been in a snow storm?


Where you desperately held onto every ounce of warmth,

Scared that if you didn’t, you’d become a prisoner to the cold-

The arch nemesis of summer,

And the cool cousin to the fall


Have you ever been in a snow storm?


The empty space that draws you into a chasm of well wished poems,

And sundried dreams, too late to hatch,

But too precious to be thrown away


Have you ever been in a snowstorm?


An excuse to hold their hands,

A silence of words but a sweet union of hearts,

Connected with nothing but the entanglement of five fingers,

Five simple messengers that confess,

I love you and only you-


Have you ever been in a snowstorm?


Where the world stood still and took the time to tap dance,

On an endless stage of crystalized snow,

Forgetting all the cares of this world,

I ask again-

Have you ever been in a snowstorm?


©Aisha-Nicole 2012

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#22: It Was Easy For You

It was easy for you,

I wasn’t the first person you had lied to

Caressing me with your sweet flow of empty words

Nestling me into a bed of lies anchored with the sweet line

That forever had tattooed our names in history books and side by side

We would conquer the world,

It was easy for you-


You didn’t even blink as you with one flick of your hand

Removed each piece of clothing

Arguing that now was our moment,

The warmth of your hands cradling away my doubts

And quickly I fell asleep to your lullaby of lies

And before I knew it, I was a prisoner with no intentions of escaping


It was easy for you,

For you had done it before,

And when morning came,

I saw another side of you,

As the light tip toed through open blinds,

And the aroma of love evacuated,

I reached to touch your hands

But your face grew blue,

You had to go,

And our time was through,


You see it was easy for you,

You had the routine down to a T,

But I was unfamiliar with this scene,

Opening and closing my eyes,

Hoping and praying that I was stuck in-between nightmares

The door closed behind me

And reality greeted me,

How are you?


It was easy for you-

But it was a different story for me.


©Aisha-Nicole 2012

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#20: Brown-Eyed Beauty

Brown Eyed Beauty //

If I could whisper you a secret would you listen?

If I could tell you a short story about a brown- eyed beauty,

Would you spare a few seconds of your time for me,

I promise to make it quick,

I’ll hit you with a punch line,

And you’ll be on your way,

Back to making your millions,

Indulging your heart with frivolous things of life,

Feet floating and never sinking on anything concrete,

I promise that this won’t change your life.

Or make you rethink your choices,

Making you turn a head and consider,

At the of intersection childhood memories,

The decisions that you’ve made,

Doing anything to make a quick buck,

Even neglecting to remember the brown- eyed beauty,

Who sang in front of the mirror,

Creating beautiful worlds with nothing but her words,

Dancing to a destiny that she only heard of,

Giving back to those who just like her had suffered,

Nursing the sick like her own mother,

Who struggled to put food on the table but never struggled to,

Share her love, giving it out immensely, like it was medicine,

If I could whisper a secret, or better yet give you a mirror,

Hold it up and dare you to take a good look-

Would you realize that the brown- eyed beauty I speak of – was once you


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#15: My Dirty Little Secret.

I had a reason behind starting this blog. I love writing and sharing my opinions, but I especially like writing poems. As in spoken word and finger snapping. Not a lot of people know that I write, not even some of my closest friends. Writing poetry followed after one of the worst periods in my life.

It happened in a moment and by the time I was done writing I was left with a masterpiece. A collection of all my pent-up feelings, the things I wished I could speak out loud but didn’t quite know how to say it.

With that said I have finally decided to put on my big girl panties and actually post a poem. Now I have to be honest, I have thought about someone stealing my words or intellectual property as Google puts it. However, I recently found a website where I can insure my words are attributed to me. That just means don’t steal. It’s not nice kids. If you like it (which I hope you do) please credit it to me.

I would be much obliged. So here goes..fingers crossed:

Humbled, I wait.

I held my pen to the paper,

What used to be a magical moment,

A synchronization of heart and words,

Is now a tedious task,

An awkward string of formalities,

Having taken for granted what used to come so easy,

My pen becomes limp between two fingers,

No longer is there harmony,

And after two hours,

My paper still lays empty.

I’m grasping and inhaling,

Trying to revitalize,

That which was just alive,

But my attempts prove futile,

And now I sit, humbled.

Believing my talent would wait,

Ignorant to what I once possessed,

I am Humbled and I wait.

© Aisha Nicole 2012

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I Am What I Write.

Welcome to my blog, it’s dedicated for my slam poetry and the occasional sprinkle of randomness.

So why bother writing?

First, I am not Shakespeare or Edgar Allan Poe or Maya Angelou. I am me and that is both beautiful and simple. With that in mind, my writing is giving the chance to grow and be unique to that which is already present.

I am What I write. And I write What I am.

Simple enough right?

Hope you enjoy, and more importantly I hope it blesses  you and you find something to relate too as well. We are all different yet the human journey knows no color ( hmmm I rather like that, i feel a copyright ensuing).



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