Author: poetryfest

Grieving what could’ve been you
You could’ve been a good father
You could’ve been my superhero
You could’ve been the one i went to for advice on anything
You could’ve been there for me for my first heartbreak
You could’ve been there when i was in the mental hospital for two weeks
You could’ve been at my graduation
You could’ve seen me get my first house with friends and congratulate me
You could’ve believed in me when i told you i wanted to be a poet and singer
You could’ve looked beyond my identity and treated me like your child
You could’ve cared about what i had to say
You could’ve held me when i was going through the worst times of my life
You could’ve been there when mom started using drugs
You could’ve been there when i got my braces at the dentist
You could’ve been there when i got my first job
You could’ve been there for me when i came out as transgender
You could’ve been so much
But you weren’t
Instead you were the one who caused my abandonment and trust issues
Instead you were the one who always let me down
Instead you were the one who only ever thought about himself
Instead you were the one who broke me down and didn’t pick me back up
Instead you belittled me and my beliefs
Instead you gaslit me and made me seem like i was the problem in your life
Instead you chose drugs and the path that i would never choose
Instead you became a stranger
Instead you decided to play the victim whenever anyone called you out on your bullshit
Instead you said i would always only ever be your daughter and never your son
Instead you let me down time and time again and made me feel guilty for things that weren’t
ever my fault
I was the one who had to pick up the broken pieces
I was the one who had to always validate myself even when i was just fucking twelve
I was the one who held me at my worst
I was the one who kept pushing myself and telling myself it was going to be okay
I was the one who kept showing up for my little brother when nobody else did
I was the one who fed myself half the time while you were off with mom getting high
I was the one who tried to keep my cool when the world became dark and cruel
I was the one who didn’t leave me
All of this, and yet i still love you
All of this, and yet i still care about you
You could’ve been so many things, but you chose to be someone i never want to be
I have to let you go, if i don’t then i will never be who i want to
So i think this time really is the end, and i wish i could say i’m sorry but the only thing i’m sorry
about is what could’ve been

I know I shouldn’t
But I can’t help it
Sometimes I don’t have the control to stop
It is wrong
And I know
But the satisfaction
the feeling of a little less pain
I don’t know why
Maybe it is the pity
The want for attention
Yet I tell no one
Hidden in broad daylight
It is a shadow that haunts me
Doesn’t leave always returns
Nothing permanent
Only enough to feel alive
Like a human

Sadness covers my surroundings
Like a blanket of fog
Not really here
But real enough to make its presence known.
This dark Sea is my home
Although they toss me and test my wits they are my love
Without this Sea I am nothing
Without me she still is the Sea.
Vast in mind she has taken my heart
In all her many forms
I still ride hoping one day
This Sea will return my good favor with wind in my sails.
However until this day comes I
Shall brace the mountains she bestows upon me
Along with the cold that follows
For I know nothing else and nothing else would suffice.

Ingredients:
• 2-3 tablespoons red, blue, and/or white
• 1 cup stars and stripes
• 2 bald eagles
• 270 votes
• 169 million frantic women

Instructions:
1. Preheat women to 350°, being careful to warm them incrementally so that they do not burn outright.
2. Carefully place the bald eagles in a debate—watch them peck at each other and finish plucking the one that ends up with fewer feathers.
3. In a large mixing bowl, combine red, blue, and/or white with stars and stripes. Stir until festive, then soak the now-featherless eagle for 2-3 hours or overnight for best results.
4. In a separate bowl, take the votes and mix with quiet outrage until smooth.
5. Remove the eagle from the mixture and spoon a few tablespoons of leftover liquid into the votes.
6. Dip the eagle into the votes and let any excess drip off. Immediately dredge in the voices of those who dictate others’ bodies until completely coated. Let rest on a baking sheet while you heat up your women.
7. In a large cast iron pan, fry the eagle for 8-12 minutes until the internal temperature reads defeat.

When the confetti falls to the ground
And the flag hangs at half mass
The ground is divided in two by red, white, and blue
When the tears stream down your face as a monster rules your kingdom
And you see humanity’s evil smiling at you
Remember that soft heart of yours
Take pity on those who are broken and drank the kool aid
Just know next time it’ll be up to you and your voice
Pray for those who are blinded to the worst vote in these borders
Even though he stole the rights from your pink tattooed body
And took the love out of the rainbow
And wants to divide colors by a lava of hate
Don’t listen to everything you hear and don’t trust all you see
Your free will can choose who you keep in your life
No one can steal your soul or your hope
When the blood of suffering, the tears of children, and the scars and trauma of the abused women show,
Remember you have the power now
The young have a chance
To make the world they want
Turn the grass green again
Unite the good
Bring the golden morality back to society
And if a so called leader supports evil for what “God” wants
Remember a pure speck of God lives in you too
There will be more wars and battles to win with good

Inspired by Tupac Shakur

A black rose was dying, Still I rose. His was the rose that silted forged concrete! He grieved grout so my block could rest peacefully. As rain poured down the cracks beckoned his torn leafs. He never had a friend like me. sprouts with leaves began to sow forged seeds. North, West, South, East, Coast dreams. Black, white, red, yellow roses. God’s Celestial fog dew quenched his famine. Tupac’s crowned Mountaintop began flowing with creed. Much rainfall troughed drought through the forged concrete. Take a Journey through my mind’s eye, make sure everyone knows what I mean; the realist stuff he ever wrote fountain’s with mountaintops that grow black, white, red, yellow and green. A wilted black rose can become legions in the life he leads; free from subservience, he acted accordingly. Mountainous regions became food for a goal in me. The seeds sown were like tunes of glee. Spring came back with all humor and Famished grizzly bears began to walk with black roses, white, red, yellow, green! Trout were gathered and man gave unconditional love to the WORLD. Populations everywhere boomingly bestowed West Coast dreams. Rich fertilizer replenished livestock. A white rose was born from two white rose within the broke concrete. The black rose died thuggin’, and thugs cried, red, white, black, yellow, green. His death sparked the mind who changed the world in me. Soon after, Men were like rose brothers, and Women were like rose sisters. Still he rose, still; he bestowed feet.

The leafs life approaches a brittle death
and it knows
beautifully, it’s time
to explode
let its beauty unfold
the veins of leaf pulse
red
green
yellow
Picasso could never
this subtly
and when the wind blows
the leafs knows too
it’s time to go.
Don’t hold on
and fall like an earthling
like a man
going splat on a canvas
go in style
float to the ground
and inspire
even as the end approaches.

they call me lucky
when I get an admission
to enter the forbidden territories of superhumans
for which I have to prove
I am not an alien or a terrorist
but it does not matter
I enjoy this sanction
visiting the museums and being fascinated
by looking at masterpieces and ancient remains
of my ancestors
that were stolen from us

I am lucky

I enjoy the shadow, fresh air
the aromatic smell of flowers
in their forests
where my people risk their lives and keep guard
to save the oldest residents of our forests
old veteran trees, friends, and sisters
wise in years
against companies full of inhumans
hungry for infinite profit
backed up by their
international collaborators
and soldiers of the evil

I am lucky

I enjoy separating my trash
in their cities
paper for blue and bio for the green bin
composting for the future
I get satisfied imagining the contribution
I make for ecology and nature
but I forget that
the journey of their garbage trucks
end in my homeland

I am lucky

I enjoy going out with friends till the late hours
wearing whatever I want
with my nipples visible or a deep decollete
drinking, dancing, and queering
where the women and queer community of my country
fight every day for our lives
for our basic human rights
and freedom

I am so lucky

as long as I behave properly
keep a low profile
act “western”
not object and toe the line
because I know how hard and fortunate
is to get across
by those high-minded humans
to their exclusive territories
so I think I was really born (un)lucky!

Doga Rojda Koldas was born in Turkey in an ethnic minority group called Zaza. She
holds a BA in sociology and an MA in women’s and gender studies. As a queer feminist
activist, she desires to see a victory against hetero-patriarchal, capitalist, and colonialist
forces and applies both theory and practice to that aim. She believes in the healing

Whether it’s him, her, or any of them
It’s all part of your plan
Whether we all agree or disagree
It’s all part of your plan
May we remember the bigger picture
Not to judge but turn to scripture
Because whether it’s him, her, or any of them
It’s all part of your plan

We are called to unite and ignite
Not tear down and shut out
We are called to be love and hope
Not cruel and act a joke
Because whether it’s him, her, or any of them
It’s all part of your plan

There is no place for hurt and meaningless debates
Trying to change their choice because “you know best”
None of it changes a thing when
It’s all part of your plan, Lord

There’s no place for self righteousness
No place for “my way or the highway”
Because whether it’s him, her, or any of them
It’s all part of your plan

Lord, remove the blinders from your children
Show them it’s all a distraction from the bigger picture
Because it is now you call us to unite and spread love
Whether it’s him, her, or any of them
It is all part of your plan, Lord

Sometimes I wonder if I really am human, or just a product of evolution
Sometimes I wonder if it’s okay to dream, or if it’s only okay to not be seen
Sometimes I wonder if it’s safe to love who we love, or if it’s only safe when it’s not too much
Sometimes I wonder if there’s a purpose to this life, or if we all are just here to live and die
Sometimes I wonder if we all just gaslight ourselves in order to belong, or if it’s because society always assumes we are in the wrong?
Sometimes I wonder if we all mean what we say, or if we only mean things in order to not complain
It feels like we live in a world with double standards, because we do
It feels like we can’t be who we are because god forbid we all face the truth
It feels like we forget that people are people, and that dishonesty is the root of all evil
Why do we start wars when we can’t even fix the ones inside ourselves?
Why do we hurt others when we can’t even heal the history that we have dealt?
Why can’t we just love each other for who we really are and not for what we have?
Why do we hate on things we don’t understand? Is it because of some kind of duality of man?
Why do we destroy others and cause hurt when instead we can just be grateful for the earth?
We fight ourselves constantly, why do we do that?
Why has society proven to us time and time again that the only way to make a change is to start from within, but instead we continue with the most heinous of sins?
In order to create change, we first have to take accountability for our own mistakes, so why are we so scared to look ourselves in the face?