Author: poetryfest

My home was poor, I could not stay
I had to leave, go far away
I left behind the ways I knew
For a land of promise, to start a new
Around that time, others came
Traditions, customs, we kept the same
Together, to support each other
With community, less we suffered
Prejudices and injustices did not destroy us
Grateful still we made the voyage
We kept our tongue and old traditions
For years, and years in rough conditions
Unknown to us back in the homeland
Progress came, you understand
I had my memories, I kept my ways
I thought it would remain that way
I hoped I’d see that home again
But it was not to be again
For on that day when I touched down
No traces there were to be found
For they had left, forever gone
So much changed so much seemed wrong
“No,” they said, “it’s not like that these days
The old are gone, we have new ways”
I rejoiced for this, but felt a loss I can’t impart
For a new life, I did find, but held the old within my heart
With dual passport in my hand
I returned to my adopted land
I realize I’m out of place
Being from the “other” place
Nor over there, I have a home
Not from all that I was shown
My home, I’ll never see again
No longer it exist, my friends
My friends and follow countrymen,
The clocks had stopped we live in yore
Back in the year of 1954

I walked along the shore today.
The sky was still, and covered grey.
A breeze came through carried the scent of you.
A sweet salty smell that I knew so well.
The touch of wind upon my skin
Did make me stop to take it in.
I smelled a fire, saw flames aloft
And thought of you, as I’ve done so oft.
Drawn to the sand I felt your hand
Lead me to the waters edge.
All I could do was sit and stare.
And wonder why you left me there.
But time moves on, as all things do.
But in my head, a memory of you.
A cold wind blows, a window frozen with ice.
Throughout the house, the smell of cinnamon spice.
The world outside, covered in snow.
The fire burns, an amber glow.
The cold wind blows down the icy trail.
When from your lips, you tell a tale.
Of darker times, and men with male.
I listen. You take me away.
I listen. Till break of day.
The sky lights up, the break of dawn.
The snow outside covers the lawn.
It’s dusk here now. Where it never snows.
I feel you near, my heart, it knows.
The waves come in, the waves recede.
I wonder if I’ll ever leave.
The shore’s the same, but different somehow.
My body returns, to the here and now.
I wipe a tear from my old cheek.
To stand up feeling small and weak.
When from the shore, a laugh I hear.
It makes me smile, takes away my fear.
I smile to myself and look above.
To see the shadow of a pure white dove.
I walk away, knowing that one day,
I’ll see you again, my love.

In a steady exchange
iron ways bend
and succumb – unaware – to the present.
I see movements –
sometimes far….
far from the perpetual
pendular
swinging of the sun.
The star rises
stern and bright,
while the waters of the rivers undress,
warm themselves,
rest.
Perfumes,
they swell and build up in the air
like tangled metal.
But it is now evening….
and while assemblies
of destinies melt,
souls, swarming,
emerge from the subways
abandoning iron tracks
that have been exterminated
and becoming, in the distance,
closed and barricaded.
I’m distracted now
by a hastening beat,
a progressive tick tick tick
like a ticket machine
replacing, mechanically,
the old crickets’ songs.

WHY WASTE FORTUNES IN SPACE EXPLORATION?
MANY FOLK STARVE TO DEATH EVERY DAY!
HOW CAN ‘ANY’ ONE, IN ‘ANY’ NATION,
JUSTIFY THE EXPENSE, IN ‘ANY’ WAY?
SOME MAY STATE;”THAT OF COURSE, WE MUST DO IT.
WITHOUT HUMAN ADVANCEMENT, WHAT ARE WE?
IT’S VITAL, NATIONS WHICH CAN, DO THEIR BIT,
AS SCIENCE IS OUR CHIEF REASON TO BE!”
OTHERS MAY ARGUE; “SUPPOSE MOTHER EARTH,
IS DESTROYED BY AN ASTEROID FROM SPACE;
A FEW COULD BE CHOSEN; THOSE OF ‘REAL’ WORTH,
TO CONTINUE ELSEWHERE; OUR HUMAN RACE.”
SO BILLIONS OF US WILL WAVE GOODBYE,
AS THE BOJOS AND TRUMPS LEAVE US TO DIE!

Pull me down from the sky

I’m scared of heights

Yet live so high

In the cosmos greatness drips excessively from

The palms of my hands

I am a dragon – I see my plan

I feel I know except when face up against man

Can’t escape being the sacrificial lamb

It’s who I am

Two of swords cut off my wings

Destined for land no matter my dreams

Such sadness this brings

Tears pour like springs

Stars twinkle to help me understand

I am stronger & wiser & that I can embrace my inner strength others sought to erase

“fall free or free fall?”

I sing as my soul questions eternity & all the miscommunication from the Sun

This mysterious darkness is scary yet I know I’ve won

What that is though, isn’t clear so I continue to fear

“follow the sound of my voice”

I hear as I flow without choice

I want to return to my base wherever that may be

Too much light inside now I burst

Becoming particles of soothing grace

Never to be replaced

Freely falling in the sky I exhale reasons why

How engraved you’ve grown,
Holding me inside my chilling crevasse.
If I might speak my talk
Over some madcap scribbles.
Spill out the queasy writings backed in my throat.
So gripping in the past;
Brushed off the shattered pieces,
Walked off into my fufilled.
To that pretty face and those soft eyes,
A 50/50 spill to tell you
Is all lodged back down into my broken chest.
Behind sagging eyes, it’s so dim-
Sobbing, yelling out loud, missing that warm touch.
Just belt it out! Clear it all up like a breath.
But I’m back to just sitting with my watery mask falling.

The Darkness, he waits patiently.
Waiting for the sanctity of night.
As the sunlight retreats and the happy sounds of the day begin to give way to silence,
he approaches.

In the brightness of day, the world is full of hope, possibilities are endless.
Joy is a bountiful harvest for the taking.
The Darkness knows this, and he is patient.

Playing, frolicking in the daylight you spend your energy.
You naïvely believe that your supply is endless,
And on you go.
Forgetting that The Darkness is waiting to collect.

Children beg to play one more game.
As mother urges them inside while tapping on the windowpane.
All the while knowing that The Darkness is near.

The sounds of birds chirping are no more.
The squeals of delight from happy children vanish.
The rumbling of traffic and music from the car windows has ceased.
The Darkness looms closer.

As the last fleeting hints of light linger.
The sounds of windows closing can be heard.
Doors are shut and the clicking of locks sound out.
The Darkness laughs as if to say, this can’t keep me away.

Finally, el silencio.
The Darkness has arrived.
He is large and confident.
His presence is overwhelming.
It is felt by all.
He will not be questioned. He demands respect.
He is The Darkness.

It is in that moment of pitch blackness before the stars emerge to illuminate the night.
Innocent beings retreat and take shelter.
I feel an energetic pull that is hard to resist.
I stumble blindly reaching out.
I step into his arms, and I am embraced by
The Darkness.

© Copyrighted Material Nikki Rawnsley

In the realm where words dance and emotions unfurl,
I find solace in the soul’s never ending swirl.
It lets me paint a tapestry of dawn and twilight’s hue,
With verses that touch the heart, as poets often do.

Behold the beauty of the suns golden blaze,
As darkness surrenders to the dawn’s gentle phase.
A symphony of colors, a celestial ballet,
It whispers of hope and a brand-new day.

Like a phoenix reborn from ashes and despair,
The sunrise paints a portrait of life’s eternal flair.
Its radiant glow reminds us of love’s gentle might,
Rekindling our spirits with its warm, tender light.

Now it’s time to turn your gaze to the sun’s final bow,
As it sets in splendor, casting shadows in the now.
The sunset’s tapestry, a masterpiece serene,
A palette of oranges, pinks, and hues rarely seen.

With each fleeting moment, the day bids adieu,
And the night unveils a sky filled with milky dew.
The stars, like diamonds, sprinkle the ebony dome,
A cosmic lullaby that whispers, “You are not alone.”

But in the quiet moments when the moon ascends,
It bears witness to the cycle where life begins and ends.
From the ashes of grief, like a sacred decree,
A newborn emerges, pure and utterly free.

In this tapestry of life, where sorrow intertwines,
The birth of a newborn gives blur between the lines.
A reminder that even amidst loss and pain,
Life’s resiliency emerges, like blossoms after rain.

So let us cherish the sunrise, sunset, stars, and moon,
For in their beauty, a symphony of life emits a tune.
And when we face the shadows that life’s journey imparts,
May we find solace in the birth of new hearts.

Tracy Repchuk
July 5, 2023

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Performed by Hannah Ehman

TOUCH, by Véronique Béquin

You’re not looking at me
your eyes – bright – scan my brow
a miner’s lamp
in my underground
Me, I never look
into anyone’s eyes
your logo-less hoodie your jeans
no scrubs for you today
you’re for blending in
your clothes are clean
Persil fresh
telling me nothing and everything
Me, I smell of daily corrosion
your stethoscope dangles loose
your sterile gloves
purple for power
or sorrow or for the time
when I had colours to claim

My first time here
the community health van
for the unhoused the junkies
the drifters who got lost
the teenage girls the teenage boys
bought for dimes
you check my breath
I’m still breathing
your deodorant a jasmine in bloom
Me, with rotting pits for underarms
you check the tracks silently
the pain doesn’t ooze out
you say masks are optional
tug yours down to smile
I stand to leave for the streets
you pull off the latex gloves
the barrier’s lifted
you touch my hands I’d forgotten
who I was till then
It’s over in an instant
but my hands purple from cold
hold yours too