Author: poetryfest

I was asked once who I was
I said I was a novel aboveground
That breathes and walks around
I said I was a novel that cries
Recalling the pain in the past
And the tough days never last
I said I was a novel that smiles
Thinking of friends who are nice
And have never broken my heart
I said I was a novel full of pages
Some of which will be closed forever
Some of which will be read over and over
I then said life was a compelling course
Filled with fleeting hours
If I’d write down my life and milestones
It would make a great novel, of course
Just like hers
Just like his
Just like yours

Esra Cengel

THE SEEKERS

Hello to all seekers of the new world
Who didn’t lose faith and hope
To whom the hypocritical system of false values
didn’t change their mind, soul and manners
Where globalists are just marionettes of personal greed and desires
There is no brotherhood in dirty desires
You who have the right to freedom of choice
Collect all your joys
Because you are not someone’s a toys
In the world where power and money are the rulers of lost souls
Collect your lofty desires
To pray for a hungry, sick and wounded brothers
While they cut the maps of this world
I am a Seeker without a word
Falling to my knees
Wondering who holds the keys
About global warming,
There was a warning
Peace and humanitarian forces
Artificial biological viruses
Geopolitical divisions
There must be criticism
Where is the theory for laicism

Drowned refugees by mistake
Killers of marine animals, using supersonic submarines
And I don’t know how to swim
High frequency waves
Which they use to make us slaves
Using impoverished uranium
Where children get cancer as a result of plutonium
I’m speechless, like I’m blowing helium
Where industrialization and innovation made man into a robot
Where people became the logo

All seekers around the world
Let us resound in full voice
With the vibration of thoughts and hearts
We find peace and well-being pass
With a justice on a face
Be new powerful grace
The Power of the Creator of the Infinite Space.

BY MIRA

Such a lovely word: estuary, like
a woman’s name; and how it is
defined by Webster’s Dictionary:

The wide lower course of a river
where its current is met by the
tides of the sea.

An arm of the sea reaches
inland to touch the mouth
of the river.

Imagine the sea having arms
reaching to embrace a river
and lips of waves to kiss the
river’s mouth.

This must be how it all began:
A world awash in love.

I am finally back.
All is quiet on the warm coastal beach.
And such clean ocean air!
I so need this, whatever “this is”. It’s been so long.
I just have time for a short walk.
I have work to do. I’m just stopping to have my coffee…
And a quick look around at the vista.

The early morning sun is casting shadows.
I watch a silhouetted seagull fly across the water and land.
And then another…
I swear they’re saying good morning and welcome back.
I walk along the water’s edge.
My toes soften into the texture of the beach sand.
This feels just right.

My mind relaxes.
I take in the smells and sounds at hand.
I can taste the salt water.
And smell the warm breeze.
My hair blows across my face.
It’s good to be back.

There are small birds ahead.
They come alive as I approach them.
They follow each other, leaving tiny footprints in the wet sand.
They’re moving faster and faster.
I don’t want to scare them…
I stop and watch them until one by one they slowly fly away.
But not for long, they land just up the way.
Glad to see that.

The sounds of the waves are like music to my ears.
This is so lovely.
I want to stay, just a little longer.
As I continue my walk…
I stop as a wave comes all too close.
It splashes my legs.
I don’t wish to get wet.
Another wave comes to say hello.
I jump back.
It invigorates my heart.
It wakes up a smile.

A broken sea shell catches my eye.
I pick it up.
I study the beautiful fossils within it.
I slip it into my pocket.
There are more shells within my reach.
Each is so special.
I get down on my knees.
I feel so at home.

Next, I glide my hand through the treasure of shells.
I have to be selective.
I can’t take them all back home. Can I?
I find the perfect one that I plan to wear on my necklace chain.
I study it.
How did the perfect hole form, and was it made just for me?
I continue on my journey along the beach.

I look ahead and see some stones on the water’s edge.
They are so simple, smooth, and calming.
The water washes over them.
They are mostly shades of gray, so lovely.
As the water clears, I approach them.
Back down on my knees, I don’t care if I get a little wet.
The beach has invited me in.
This is where I belong.

Time has slowed me down.
My work can wait.
These treasured zen stones give such peace and harmony.
I find one formed for my thumb to rest.
It’s a keeper.
I select a few more stones to gift to friends.
I drop them into my bag.
I’ll place them around a candle to share the feelings of tranquility.

A few more people are walking the beach, many with sun hats on and heads down.
It’s time to enjoy my morning coffee.
I spread a beach towel out, and I take a seat.
The sun warms me.
I slip off my jacket.
I need my sunglasses. Oh, boy!

I pull out my coffee and a muffin.
The little birds are back.
If a single crumb is left, they are ready.
I could stay here for hours.
This is the perfect day.
I have arrived.
I am ready to start my day.
Come join me.
Perhaps you, too, might want to stay.

Actually I feel quite bad,
I know it sounds rather sad.

But I swear I’m doing fine,
My body’s healthy, nothing wrong with the spine.

Just the chemical soup in the brain,
Signalling unbearable pain.

Promise I’ll recover very soon,
Turn harsh December back into June.

https://www.instagram.com/warpoetpaky

Performed by Val Cole

Performed by Val Cole

Ruins of Memories by Badradeen Mohammed

On a sunny autumn day

I was leaning on a plastic chair in front of my house

With sweat dripping from my body

Caused by the high temperature

And resentment for the intensity of my anger

Suddenly, without realising I found myself standing up

So fascinated by the landscape

The breathtaking beauty and charm

This was magnificence and harmony which I had not found in any instance of my life

A cluster of white clouds and in just moments fantastic coloured

Were formed in red-dark and others were black and grey

Added to the sky was like a page, draped in lothario blue

Like a masterful painting, fine

Drawn by skilled artist

Which did not leave any room for error

Everyone was running down looking for a shelter to escape the heavy rain

I did not move a finger

Amused by the romance that took me to mazes of straying and day-dreams

And with each drop of water I felt recovery

As it was cleansing me from dirty days

At the peak of my happiness

I relaxed to the rhythms of memories which revived my soul

And made me see the world in its most beautiful

And in the most wonderful moments I lived

Sitting on the ruins of memories

Suddenly, I found myself shouting and swearing at a driver

Who drove his car through the water in front of me

So that water splashed full of dirt and filth

Spread over my body and my clothes

Marking the end of the dream and those moments

Only then I realised

Life does not give us all we wish for

Even in our dreams

Unless it wanted to