Spoken word poems strengthen two essential muscles–the brain and the heart. Storytelling is a powerful way to spark change, offer comfort, or amplify silenced voices. In honor of National Poetry Month, here are seven uplifting poems, curated for anyone who needs a moment of light. Whether you’re looking for creative inspiration, stepping into the spoken word environment for the first time, or just need a pick-me-up, this list will surely lift your spirit.
Andrea Gibson’s “The Year of No Grudges”
“My wounds will never ever be bigger than I am.”
The late Andrea Gibson’s “The Year of No Grudges” refuses the easy exit, rejecting “cut off what no longer serves you” culture and offers informed forgiveness instead. Gibson reminds us that letting go isn’t always leaving. Sometimes, it’s choosing to love people while they’re still learning. This piece is perfect for anyone seeking forgiveness poems, healing after hurt, queer spoken word, or poems about choosing compassion over distance.
Sam(ira) Obeid’s “Pigtails”
“Dear mum, I love you. But, I love me more.”
“Pigtails” is a mirror for anyone stuck between who they’re instructed to be, and who they actually are. This is a lyrical example of queer resilience and the courage necessary to unlearn any version of you that was braided too tight. It honors the mother, yes–but it honors the self even more.
Rudy Francisco’s “Complainers”
“You are still alive…act like it.”
As one of the most widely shared spoken word poems about gratitude and mental health, “Complainers” doesn’t ask us to silence our struggles. It suggests honoring the fact we’re still here to speak them, nudging us toward the light without denying the dark.
Shnayjaah Valentine Jeanty’s “American Genesis”
“Know the universe is a black girl. Know that stars are nothing without the dark skin that holds it.”
This poem feels like Instagram doomscrolling at 2 in the morning, watching the algorithm praise lightness, thinness, softness. Anything but you. This spoken word poem about identity, desirability politics, and resisting digital beauty culture, rewrites the first page of the Bible so we can understand why self-love often feels like a battlefield for black girls. American Genesis is an origin story that hands young people their own name back. Their own sky. Their own beginning.
Melissa Lozada-Oliva’s “Tonsils”
“Maybe love is a vestigial organ. Something we should’ve grown out of a long time ago. Something we all have anyway.”
In “Tonsils,” heartbreak and self-healing are slow and painful, but worthwhile. Through the metaphor of tonsillitis, Lozada-Oliva reminds us that emotional recovery requires the same grace as physical recovery. We’re given all of this internet language for love–health, toxic, avoidant, anxious–but this poem actually delves into the experience of love. Getting better hurts, but it teaches you more than staying wounded ever would.
AkeemJamal Rollin’s “Suicide Note”
“Tell them I’m home, home is here, no matter what the shatter or the clatter I am here.”
In a timeline where doomscrolling can make every morning feel like bad news breaking, “Suicide Note” begins in a similar darkness–words that appear as a final goodbye. However, he takes us through the support of community that brings him back to life. This spoken word poem about reasons to stay alive reminds us that even in a world soaked with headlines, there are still incredibly ordinary joys worth waking up for. Being here is a huge victory.
Carlynn Newhouse’s “Our Cities Still”
“Fact: we’ve been saving ourselves the whole time.”
“Our Cities Still” is a quick-witted love letter with its fists up. This piece refuses to let gentrification rewrite the story of a place or the people who built it, naming a joy that shines even as the skyline changes and the rent doubles. Here, hope is ancestral rather than naive. This slam poem about home resilience, and anti-gentrification insists that belonging can’t be bulldozed.
