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.

Read Poem: silence., by dhwani shah

I haven’t done this in a while.
I’m not used to hearing my own voice.

The silence shields me.
It gathers around, as if guarding.
But this house still talks to me.

The stairs leading up to our bedroom,
They take me down a memory lane.
I still wonder why you couldn’t let me share your pain.

I see you’re smiling at me,
The way you always used to;
From within that photograph.

I’m waiting for this silence to be broken,
I’m waiting to hear you laugh.

These walls hold frozen moments
that decorated our palace.
I look at them now,
Hung, was your life in the balance.

What did you see that you couldn’t say?
What could you feel, that you didn’t stay?
Why didn’t you just call me?
I shouldn’t have left the house that day.

I recognise that look in your eyes
Like you were always seeing ghosts.
And now every mirror in this house,
It boasts,
Of showing each their own ghosts.

You were depressed
When you said
You wanted to be on your own.

Did our big house
Leave a lot of space
For you to be alone?

It creaks and it moans
Provoking my un-cried tears.
Brick, wood and stone
Standing testimony to your fears.

To your sadness
That desperately needed hope.
But your hands,
Your hands instead found a rope.

Reminiscent on this ledge
I can feel your fingerprints
Married into the blueprint

I stand where you stood then
I tremor at the slightest touch
Did you clutch or did you just jump?
Your note didn’t say much.

I shouldn’t have left the house that day
I shouldn’t have left the house that day
I shouldn’t have left the house that day
That’s all I could hear myself say
To keep my mind at bay,
from imagining.

I imagine you roar.
You roaring with pain.
It echoes in these ceilings,
In the mirrors, I point to the blame.

If only you had asked me,
I would have guarded
Your blood with my sweat.

But in the end
It feels like
Maybe we never even met.

I can feel you roaring still
Like a dragon drawing breaths.
Yet, the house remains indifferent.
Winter never ends.

And as I lose myself in you,
Twilight tears the house in two.
A deep distant gold
And a very dark blue.

So I turn around and I walk a mile.

I haven’t done this in a while.
The silence is too loud.
I’m not used to hearing my own voice.

Read Poem: THE TEMPTATION OF CHRIST, by BRENDA MOHAMMED

We learn many lessons from the spiritual battle between Jesus and Satan.
Jesus fasted 40 days and nights in the Judean Desert, after his baptism.
Satan tried to tempt Him in a similar way that Satan tempts us.
Jesus rebuked Satan in his three attempts to turn Him away from God’s purpose.

Jesus was hungry but did not yield to Satan’s suggestion.
Satan told him to make bread out of stones to relieve His hunger
Jesus replied it is written that man does not live on bread alone,
To Him, God’s Word was more filling than bread made from stone.

The devil led him to a high place and showed Him the worldly kingdoms.
He said that he would give Him all their authority and splendour.
Satan said he could give it to anyone if they worship him solely.
Jesus said it was written to worship and serve the Lord God only.

The devil led Jesus to the temple’s highest peak in Jerusalem.
Satan told Him if He were the Son of God to throw Himself down.
For it was written that God would send His angels to lift Him up.
He would not allow Him to strike His foot if He dropped.

Jesus was filled with the Holy Spirit and said aloud,
Satan should not attempt to test the Lord God.
Jesus quoted Scripture in replying to the Prince of the World.
Similarly, we can rebuke Satan if we know God’s Word.

Jesus, the humble Messiah, triumphed over Satan.
He adhered to God’s plan of salvation for all nations.
Jesus did not fail God to satisfy hunger or vain glory.
We can all learn from Jesus’ example in this true Biblical story.
Copyright@ Brenda Mohammed

Read Poem: SOLITARY JOURNEY, by Long Er Dong

I am a solitary traveler,
Trudging alone under the indifferent gaze of others.
The evening wind, lifting the distant yellow sand,
Cools the eyes that once looked at me tenderly;
And the tears that were meant to last through ages.

I am a solitary traveler,
Each creation,
A painful and lonely journey in life.
Drawing the curtains, I shut out the glitzy world.
No flowers or warmth,
No kisses or care…

Though virtual time can flow backwards,
It cannot find the youth I once was.
Though the space of thought keeps changing,
It cannot retrieve the dreams of my youth.

The evening glow reddens the clouds at the horizon,
Signaling the moon will still rise as scheduled.
But you, whom I once loved,
Have been scattered by the evening breeze,
Lost among the multitude…

Irretrievable,
Yet the pain remains!

Read Poem: ORBITING A STAGE, by Edward Liriano

In love there is no serenity
No escaping the chaos within
Crashing into each other
Forcing the winds of change

Every breath leaves you out of breath
Yearning for a moment to ponder
The meaning of what I’ve just done
To whom everything will go to

There is life within your soul
A connection to yourself causing isolation
While the circle of life is spinning
Making a love triangle ever present

Look up and down and all around
Only to see what is inside
On stage with the spotlight on you
Ready to perform for the masses

Read Poem: THE END, by Dimitris P. Kraniotis

The savour of fruits
Still remains
In my mouth

But the bitterness of words
Demolishes the clouds
And wrings the snow
Counting the pebbles

But you never told me
Why you deceived me
Why with pain
And injustice did you desire

To say that the end
Always in tears
Is cast to flames

Author’s Bio:

Dimitris P. Kraniotis is an award-winning Greek poet. He was born in Larissa Prefecture in central Greece and he grew up in Stomio (Larissa). He studied Medicine at the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki. He lives in Larissa (Greece) and works as a medical doctor (internal medicine specialist). He is the author of 10 poetry books in Greece. He has won international awards for his poetry which has been translated in 35 languages & published in many countries. He participated in several International Poetry Festivals around the World. He is Doctor of Literature, Academician in Italy, President of the 22nd World Congress of Poets (UPLI), President of the World Poets Society (WPS), Director of the Mediterranean Poetry Festival (Larissa, Greece), Chairman of the Writers for Peace Committee of PEN Greece and member of World Poetry Movement (WPM), Poets of the Planet (PoP), Hellenic Literary Society, National Society of Greek Literary Writers, etc. His official website: https://www.dimitriskraniotis.com/

Read Poem: FRIENDS, by Zaric ( Zeke) Reed

When I say friend do I desire the slippery and suppleness of you? You say friend do u mean someone to confide in and tell secrets to and flatter you with sexual innuendo and volley?” How’s my woman?” you frequently ask, knowing that she is but a shield, that u hide behind and duck around, when I whisper that I have to see you naked before I die– have to taste the sticky that makes your pearl glisten and the delight that your thong occupies. You are but a woman and you must do and say lady things and in doing so, you use karma as an excuse and the lust for me only resides in the dreams that you have that you tell me about, that you try to take back when it’s too late. I suspect that you become as wet as I am hard and as horny as I am lustful. What can I say or do to get into your panties mentally, to cook marshmallows in the flame of your furnace, from the inglenook of your thigh. To cup and caress your naked breast from behind, and to have you whisper, “How’s your woman?” I muster, “Mind your business,” and I push you down and slip inside you with a groan–and you do finally. You mind your business and then we make love like friends are supposed to.

Sometimes.