Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.

MUSICAL Poetry: YOUNG JANE SEYMOUR, by Maya Vanleeuwaarde

Isn’t he embarrassed by his newest bride?
His last at the Green Tower, waiting to die
A confidant, a cousin, beheaded for death
Her body laid to rest alongside baby’s breath
Take that as a sign, young Jane Seymour
Take comfort in anything shiny you adore
Your days will be lonely and your nights his
Until the dawn a baby grows and metabolizes
Finally giving this vile man what he wants
Decades of desire, monarchy and its taunts
Someone indebted forever to him, a citizen
Raised on gold, structure, and discipline
You’ve become a vessel for the perfect son
A young heir with two marriages undone
The perfect successor of a man so crass
Stuck in a round room of venetian glass
Lapis lazuli, gold, silk threads, and linen
Dressed in all purple, a Tudor era villain

ENVIRONMENTAL Poetry: TEENAGE LAVENDER, by Melissa Pilakowski

The lavender and I are
having a fight.

Its directions suggest ice cubes.
I comply.

The plant feigns weakness, so I share
more sips of water.

Its stems complain and slump.

I set it in full daylight, like an
invalid. More stems bow their
heads and refuse to stand.

“Fine,” I tell it. “You’re on your own.”
And when I turn my back, it thrives.

So I’ve started to give it ice cubes again.

POLITICAL Poetry: The Silent Prayer, by Ruba Elgarhy

Shaky breaths,
Silent tears,
Chilling nightmares of forgotten fears.
One night, two nights, three
Have you not heard them beg and plea? Have you not?
I stopped at ten,
Looked at the skies
And wondered, ‘when?’
Chalk on walls,
Summers, winters, falls,
Springs haven’t visited since then.

Brilliant bursts of light
Buried deep
Into the dark of the night—
Sparks that shook great thrones.
Halls now flooded
With piles and piles of bones

I prayed, and then I prayed again
Yet I looked at the skies
And wondered, when?’
As I watched, wept, waited
For the rain to wash away the blood,
And the death that lingered in the air.
More gates were shut,
Less sand and more chalk
Perhaps I’m next to walk
Towards the pile—
Another dying flare.

POLITICAL Poetry: NOBLE, by Sherry Caayupan

Trump of the noble and kind,
Where forth kindness in disguise,
You speak of rights, every human is right,
For their souls call justice near flies;
Underneath and beyond heaven’s bid,
You shall be heard, though if faint…
It shall be rested…
And shall be sufficed…
…your righteous arms that breathe under heaven’s light.

PARODY Poetry: When Emily Dickinson Rolled a Joint, by Andre Peltier

Because I had a gram of Hash –
I rolled it with my weed –
I cleaned out all the stupid stems –
But saved the silly Seeds.

We slowly lit – We knew no haste
As we all puffed away
We held the smoke way down so deep,
That darkness could not Stay –

We passed it ‘round, from Friend to Friend –
I rarely – Saw the Sun –
We Laughed and Smiled and Laughed some more
And Rolled another One –

Or rather – It rolled Us –
Into the Corner of the Room –
Where we Stared into the Clouds
And at the Setting Sun –

We thanked the farms in Mexico
And Those in Humbolt too –
We thanked the little purple hairs –
That came – from Humbolt too –

And it – seemed centuries – because
The time it slipped away
My mind felt underwater
Let’s smoke again today –

SCI-FI/FANTASY Poetry: THE VOW, by Diana Farthing

A single candle lit
With silent words, she sits
before the open windowsill,
wanting racing heart, be still.

The night sky black as pitch
Her breath comes with a hitch
Will love come to the Witching Hour,
Dare she give him that much power?

Her lips still burn from remembered kiss
The passion evokes such sensual bliss
Her mind recounts each tender touch
Desire builds ever much.

Quiet steps across the threshold,
Sultry eyes possessive bold
His face blocks out her memory
of whispered warnings told.

To her he bends his knee
to make a formal bow.
There is no hesitation,
he beckons, the time is now.

Tonight, he chose eternity
For her to be his mate
A single bite upon his neck
Will seal him to an immortal fate.

A vampire’s love is timeless
She whispers in his ear
I shall love you forever,
she vows through scarlet tears.

© Keltic Di

FREE VERSE Poetry: In twists of which chest have you turned into a sigh?, by Armita Khalatbari limaki

In which poem have you fallen asleep, that no rhyme can fill the void of your absence?
In which branch have you nested, that no bird disturbs your peaceful slumber, in essence?
From which river have you fled to the sea, that no tale can tell me about you?
In which abandoned corner of my mind have you hidden,
That you cannot be found in all my wandering thoughts?
Tell me, in which blazing torch have you ignited a flame,
That no glimmer of your presence meets my eyes, even with a shame?
Or in twists of which chest have you turned into a sigh?
Oh, you, my far-fetched desire to have you again in this mundane life,
Tell me, with me, which spring has become the birthplace of your rebirth.
Oh, “youth”, the lost exhilaration of mine and worth.
Now that my eyes have drifted into sleep, yearning to see you once more,
Now that from every delicate curve of your body, my frail form has been cleansed and pured,
Tonight which I knocked on every door, and did not find you out.
Tonight, come to my poetry and speak of yourself loud.
Tell me of the time gone by and the lost world of my youth.
Perhaps a miracle will happen and I will see you once more
Or in the coolness of the morning breeze
Near the twilight of dawn and in the solitude of imagination and sweet release
Only for a moment in my dream
I kiss you as a hopeful old grim.
Take me away from this bewildered, dark world.
Where on every threshold, a curse or a conspiracy is unfurled.
Oh, whoever is an enemy to me but you,
Alas, oh companion lost, oh youth,
Tell me where is that bottle of solace to ease my fatigue?

GRIEF Poetry: FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF, by Lexi Lee

i didn’t realize that the five stages of grief
could be felt all at once
yet not at all
for what i feel cannot be described
by any word in the human vocabulary

denial? or more like trapped
in what i could only wish would be a
never ending nightmare
for at least that would mean
that somewhere people are awake
in a world in which you live

anger is not an emotion i can feel
for your compassion envelops
us and moves us beyond

sadness, i do
selfishly i know
for you lived a life to which
you were at peace with leaving
i just wish it were one that i could be a part of
for longer

will i ever accept, i fear i do not know
but today and tomorrow
we celebrate through the woe

NATURE Poetry: HOW FAR WE HAVE TO GO, by Nicole Dell

They glided down gilded halls
While adorned with precious gems
Their robes were intricately woven
As were their tapestries spun with gold

We slept in holes festering with disease
While creatures crawled in every crevice of our homes
We wore garments torn and bereft of any opulent finery
Our hands were marred by toil and sacrifice
A testament to our dreams slipping away under the weight of relentless effort and unrequited
hope

Jusqu’où nous sommes venus, et pourtant jusqu’où nous devons aller

We cradled hope like a frightened child In the dead of night
Our cries drowned out in their mirth carried far over gales
We may lack what they revere
But we will never be void of what truly matters

The day dawn breaks it sweeps the land with silence
It crawls across their skin and lays siege to their souls
It carries a chill into their arms and caresses their cheeks
But still its flames lap at our feet and kiss us in sweet farewell

Jusqu’où nous sommes venus, et pourtant jusqu’où nous devons aller