Watch the 2016 LOVE Poetry Contest Winner. Turned into a movie.
Love – A Mystical Paradox by Somali K Chakrabarti
Narrated by Becky Shrimpton
Produced by Matthew Toffolo
Editing & Visual Design by Yujin Song
Month: July 2016
Plastic Succulent, Poetry by Chase Morris
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Genre: Society |
Plastic Succulent by Chase Morris
A new era. Hope for us: fading.
Granted, we had the potential for our essential happiness.
Chasing of the natives this furtive soil became our burden because of our selfishness.
This dark matter born from whores that were then conceived from mold of the Apple.
Over time like that of a rocking chair. The few of us lose our strong purpose from being used.
A fragile lotus standing in the midsts of poison. Peer pressured for evil.
The rest of us lotuses who see consistent hatred, camoflauge under abandoned pavements that have no name.
Where we grow beautifully as we should…
Yet never found or appreciated until we are eradicated.
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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Touched, Poetry by Terry Hart
Genres: Love, Romantic, Romance, Caring, Sensual, Emotional
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Touched by Terry Hart
Destiny has delivered us All this splendor As we connect |
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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html
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At Night, Poetry by Anton M. Rojkov
Genre: Nocturnal, Atmospheric, Night Shift
At Night
by Anton M. Rojkov
At night
When most bright colors retreat,
Stillness regains control
Over moving parts of the world.
Eyes miss details,
Hearing catches ghosts talking,
And I watch my skin
With more attention,
Finding myself fascinated
With blood streaming steadily
With bones cracking.
I wonder of grass breathing,
Springs running toward eternity,
Of a warm cup of tea
In a quite shop.
Peering into the dark,
Listening to the air moving
In no hurry, with no care,
As it always does,
But only now I notice.
At night
I want serene things,
Just like shadows swim
Through the streets
And rocks whisper by the bushes.
Working night shift shows so much beauty
In the non-human world
That I rarely witness.
At night
There are so many things
I think of doing during the day.
Then it arrives,
First lights break through.
Those who slept are awake
Stillness seems to be
Progressively beaten into pulp,
While movement
Is the only way to go, once again.
Colors creep in
But small details I cherished
Somehow fade away
Into the war walls of sound
That mash in,
Proclaiming silence an anathema.
Attention and speed
Are now object of worship
And constant reinvention.
Then endless hours
Of rush and rock and roll
Come to slowing down.
The sun is out to shine elsewhere
And stillness is back to amaze me.
I’ve been waiting
To hear rocks whisper by the bushes
In the calm of the air
Breathing on my shoulder.
I’m thinking of so many
Quiet and slow things to do,
Lost in the calm and dark of the night.
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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html
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Grandma’s Love, Poetry by Poetic Gurl Janet M.
Genre: Grandparents Love
Grandma’s Love
By Poetic Gurl Janet M.
My Granddaughter, this day
You turn One year older
May God, Bless you!
This is a special day for you,
So, with lots of kisses and love
I hope you have lots of fun with friends
Reminiscing, I cannot believe how time has passed me by
And, you have turned into a beautiful young teen
Who is so sensitive and prefers to please everyone
Avoid conflict between family and friends
I love her laugh to death and her attitude
So, continue to listen to your parents
There is no rush to grow up yet
Spend lots of time with both
Always say I love you every day
Remember, you’re growing up
And it is kind of scary
Their baby girl one day they were carrying her
The next,
She’s 12 yrs old
They don’t have a book with instructions’
to know what to do next that is
UNKNOWN……..
XoXoXo NaNa 2016
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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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From within her rib cages, Poetry by J. Liethers
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GENRE: painful, motivational, philosophical, society
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“From within her rib cages sprouted a mound of
wishbones (galvanized by miracles that’ve died in daydreams) instead of a spine & when the storm – J. Liethers |
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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Decisions, Decisions, Poetry by Marcus J. King
Genre is funny and hope
Decisions, Decisions by: Marcus J. King
Stuck. Lost. A brick wall.
Go left. Go right.
Make a left turn. Around the corner.
There…yes go that way!
Keep going…a little bit further.
Dead end. Dern it.
I can’t seem to get a break.
U-turn to the last possible mistake.
Left turn. Right turn.
I see a hill. Go straight.
Turn right. Turn left.
Keep going….just a few more steps.
Ahhh. I see a hill and openness.
I found the way. Almost there.
Wait no…going too fast.
There’s a cliff right there.
Abruptly stop.
Cliffs edge and the open blue sea.
Deceitful little hill back there.
Might as well enjoy the view.
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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Emerald Heart, Poetry by Barbara Hunt
Genre: Dark, Life changing, Loss, and Romance
Emerald Heart by Barbara Hunt
Basking in the strength of your stare
Two stones with intelligence and loyalty take away the air
Always there to help and challenge hard as steel filling with despair unyielding to the truth
Sitting in the silence with nothing needing to be said once comfortable and loving now distant and hard
A shell so deep and unbreakable nothing would be the same not after all trust was lost
A glimmer of hope could be seen as she tried clinging to loyalty but in the blink of an eye it all vanished as the black hole of mistrust tore everything apart
The only thing to be seen was a beautiful shade of green with memories past flooding through as a whisper was heard in the darkness
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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html
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BLOOD OF MY BLOOD, Poetry by Anubhuti Gupta
Genre: Drama, Betrayal, Hurt
BLOOD OF MY BLOOD by Anubhuti Gupta
Once, when Ellaine was a child;
Her mother had told her many a times
It wasn’t the food or water that made a person
But care and warmth and passion and love
And all that which brought a smile during the dark times.
And so as she grew up,
Ellaine thought about it for more than a little while
She thought and thought around the clock
And in the end came to a belief that she held firm like a rock.
She accepted it was love and care that made her alive
Forming a part of her, growing ceaselessly within
With her very blood and veins.
To be fair, Ellaine had a tough life
Often too much for her soft soul to bear
But on one of those gloomy monsoon days
With her old belief she had an epiphany, she says.
You see,
It was betrayal of love that hurt the most
So all she needed to do was let go,
But how could she let go of something that was never hers?
It was then she remembered, What was it she needed to cut off
Of-course, it was forming a part of her, growing ceaselessly within
It was her very blood and veins.
First to be cut was
Fiery passionate string of lovers
Each of whom seeked only pleasures of flesh
And these were the ones that fled far away. should they ever mistakenly touch Ellaine’s spirit.
This wound bled but only little, for much can such love grow?
But blood’s blood and so it cuts however little part of her soul.
Second to be cut was
The friends, family of her own choosing
The one who always promised to watch Ellaine’s back
And also the ones who stabbed the very place they swore to watch.
This cut bled still more, emptying her soul
Of honesty and trust and of the promise of love ofcourse.
Next to be cut was
Her own flesh and bones and her own blood
The wound with the care of her mother, which she now knew was hollow
And the wound with the safety of her father, which was a cover for control.
When this wound bled, its pain was almost too real
Too real for something that was so realistically a hoax.
Last to be cut was
The blood of her blood
It was the one she didn’t even know was there
Because poor Ellaine didn’t even expect her to love herself.
Yet this was the wound that bled and drained her most
It was the only thing in Ellaine’s plan that went off-course.
Well did Ellaine die, you must wonder:
Why, ofcourse she did; don’t you remember?
Without care and warmth and passion and love
There is no person.
Such depth was in the wisdom of Ellaine’s mother.
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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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A Black Women’ Plea, Poetry by Latonia Sears
Genre: Life, Society
A Black Women’ Plea
by Latonia Sears
I am so tired of all the death an destruction
the collection of lifeless bodies is reaking
and has left an odor
The smell of injustice is fowl
and is leaving a strong scent in the air
the disgusting fragrance of death
While all of the victims families
watch all of these black men
taken down and laid to rest
No politician or public servant
had the forsght to shed a tear
it only hit home for them
when some of their comrades
were taken away from here
even then they still won’t stop this and quit
To serve and protect or protect and serve
either way it always turns to death in the end
like they hate us and are not interested in making a mends
They are taking lives at an enormous rate
most of the time it is out right murder
fueled by racially motivated hate
The life of a black man has no worth to these servants
not the lives they have taken or the families
they caused so much sorrow
Knowing their husbands, fathers and brothers
won’t be here tomorrow although throughout
time we have continued to survive
Even for all this time
while we have been continuously
been persecuted and shoved asside
We will stand up and say enough is enough
and we are not taking it anymore
remembering to show unity as we walk through that door
Black has always had black power
not power over black
wev’e already won that fight
We are Americans who demand justice
because we are a part of this country
our contributions are endless
We have fattened the pockets of many
some wrong, some right
some who are not afraid to stand up for what’s right
If Martin were here what would he do?
What about Malcolm or Mandella
what would they say and do?
It has become a national crisis
none of us are safe
from these men in blue
“By The People” “For The People”
are these the same people
as me and you
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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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