Author: poetryfest

Fifteen years of age
Five years ago
I walked alone at the Stewartstown Park
Little, did I know I’m not supposed to go to the dark forest
I mind my business until I met Him
Met him, twenty years of age
Five years ago
Came out of nowhere hypnotizing me with his smoky eyes and a glittering crooked smile
He spoke with me with charm
Telling me to go to the Dark Forest with him
A dark, mysterious forest
I shook my head and said “No.”
I don’t want to go to the Dark Forest
Where demons demonizing me and animals feeding my flesh
He had tricks to show me he said
What tricks?
A magic trick that will make me disappear like a Houdini Act
or a Kaladesh trick
I went into the forest with him
It wasn’t the trick I thought it would be.
He kept grasping and pushing to me the ground
He pulled my legs apart by force and spread them
Showing off my parts
Trying to put my legs between mines
I tried to scream but I couldn’t
He covers my mouth with his filthy hand
Covering my breath hole so I don’t say a word
I should’ve listened to my guts
Maybe none of this wouldn’t happen
He took it hard on me
Stripping’ me down
Putting’ his hand down inside my underpants Allowing a grown man to touch I’m better off dead than living
What can you do?
You’re young
It’s your fault
Now here I am
I stay in the Dark Forest waiting to be torture again
Or animals watch me than feeding on my flesh
Here I am in the dark forest I stay with my tears
Shedding down through my warm cheeks
Looking up at the grey sky waiting for the rain to fall
Please let the rainfall on this dark, gloomy forest
So I can feel the rain feel my pain
And hear my cry
Are they my comforts?
My comfort to keep me safe in the dark forest
Washing away the blood of my legs
Draining the tears off my eyes
Flooding the whole darkest forest to a tropical rainforest
Rain falls hard in this dark cold forest
I stay in the rain letting the rain be my tears
Yet again I have no fear
I touch every raindrop at the palm of hands wondering if God is crying with me
He knows my pain
He sees my pain
He knows I’m in the dark forest crying my eyes out
Hurt and abused
The rain stops.
Does he know?
Looking back now
Fifteen years of age
Five years ago
Fast forward
No justice made for my pain, my suffering, and my innocence

Spring days like this

Bring to mind brightly Oxford,

May Day, the Thames

Its murky waters put to shame

By the green, grassy banks rolling,

Sloping gently towards her

The open doors of the many

Pubs beckoned and we answered

eagerly to their gritty come-ons

and whiskey whispers

to stagger over the Folly Bridge

six pints full

Your tight wire act amusing

Even after the silence

Then the splash

As you tumbled off and in.

© Erik Hansen 2020

We endured through the lacks,
Some got sick, some got bashed.
Some died, some are tired…
while others cried, losing ourselves,
Putting our frustrations aside,
Ineffective strategies, demoralized agencies.
Inconsistencies of leaders to handle the adversaries
Being called to serve, with lack of support, from people who claimed to be right
Yet they hide when asked to help.. asked to provide.

With all of this,
The bias and treatments, we dont deserve.
We haven’t stop,
We might have complained, but we havent run.
We still stand and fight,Serving the public with all our might.

Remembering to pause a while,
dealing with inconsideration of people outside.
Efforts done, and some plans fail.
It’s a war,
a battle– hard to win.
Sensationalized emotions to add the scale,
the bickering and politicking.
Useless drama in between.
Ignorance and ruined thoughts,
thats how health system got sidetracked
and lost.
Baseless lies and apathy,
lack of compassion, arrogance, entitlement and derailed personalities.

All through the cycle,
We still stand and fight!
In solidarity, some help and try,
Stepping up, awakening desire,
Undeterred and hopeful
for a better result, a light in this situation.
Some of us got scorned,
verbal harassment, disrespect and discriminated, other pushed to the core..

Being on the frontlines is exhausting, serving people who do nothing but ignore and complain rather than thanking.
With all of this,
we grew numb and tired listening,
bullshit–dealings,
all mishaps and wrongdoings.

Are we there? are we still on track?
Is our vision real?
Or just a dream, we try to fulfill.
People should understand the goal…
Public health is different and broad.
Not all guidelines is appropriate to all…
It depends on dynamics, people and sorts.

Respect the boundaries, know when to act,
But you should know it boils to one —-
“PREVENT THE SPREAD” is the most effective way to stop!
not “HEALING” nor “TREATMENT”
but COURAGE to CUT the line.
END TRANSMISSION,
PROMOTE PROPER SANITATION.
Change behavior is the answer,
It is your biggest contribution.

It’s a shared responsibility, a moral obligation.
Yet your attitude, define what character you have in position.
The slightest defiance, complacency, arrogance and disrespecting humanity.
Will kill your loved ones in a snap, you’ll see.
I’m afraid you realize it later,
when its too late and no one cares nor bothers.

Jespiel,RN_Circa2020

Performed by Val Cole

VOTERS, WAKE UP!, by Edmund Melig Industan

(Oh, yes!)

A blot of an ink on a boxed paper board;
A wedge of that mouse that runs as a bow;
An effort from us with hope that it would…
Better the globe, change rotting world.

(And we know that…)

One year plus three, a term to behold.
Wrote on the board what’s good for the world.
Dropped in a box and off we then go…
Each one’s routine; then, hope that duty done
Will one day translate to what we were told.

Be awake! Don’t you sleep. Hey!
There’s a guy, working thief.Hey
Purging votes…orders it. Hey!
Orange turd…inmate turf. Hey!
Actively, let’s be part
Of the process, for we have
Democracy to keep.

(Please remember that…)

Leaders of the pack are ordinary men.
They have the will and dyadic swell.
Off flow the “good” when platform bestowed.
Soon bad would flow if no one would crow.

(So be vigilant and…)

Soar to the world; see how they perform.
First year overflowed with peaches and cream.
Following months, served with decaying fruits…
Good to the cronies; bad to those weren’t reached
With the magic wand of the elected.

It is “them” to be blamed? Hey!
You’ve put laurels on them! Hey
Trusting them; then, you dreamed. Hey!
Be awake! Words and actions haven’t matched;
Then, we cried for a failed task!

(And then…)

We mustered the disgruntled; we marched to the streets.
To the leaders, we’re roaches to be quashed and contained.
We joined forces to startle and threaten…
Wishing for more strength; but, alas! ‘Twas hard to gain.

(And achtung!)

Chaos started all around. Hey!
Goons were here, everywhere. Hey!
Infiltrators were also here. Hey!
Molotovs were in the air!

(Achtung)

Many of us raised our hands up.
Others showed thumbs for the lame.
The herd disoriented! Others jumped off! Some were maimed.
Those voices so strong before. Now, just whispers of dying men.

(But hey!)

Not the end yet, full term’s here.
Hey!
Everyone’s life so dear.

(And so…)

Let’s cast our vote wisely this time.
Mark those names who have brains and brawns for the country
And morals pleasing to God and not just a show off to men!

Performed by Val Cole

Bitch

For all the AOC’s & Yoho’s
Bitch, Slut, Cunt, Whore…

Your words don’t hurt me anymore.

When you say it so many times,

It becomes a childish rhyme.

I’m not submissive. I don’t give up.

Your words mean nothing.

Take your best shot.

Give it all you got.

I have words for you.
I could scream until I’m blue.

What good would it do?
It’s pointless to argue with a fool!
So you ask, why am I so ghetto?
I believe acting meek and quiet,
it’s staying silent.
Why does it take aggression?

How should I get your attention?
The communication is gone.

Take a look at your phone.

Wo do you really know?

Look around, are you lost or found?
Words are a tricky little thing.

Perspective is the key.

We both see it differently.

Say what you mean and keep it clean.

Words don’t hurt, the meanings do.

That’s why a look can kill or make you swoon.

Silence can be so loud it makes you cry.

Feelings are what we cannot deny.

For all the AOC’s & Yoho’s
Bitch, Slut, Cunt, Whore…

Your words don’t hurt me anymore.

When you say it so many times,

It becomes a childish rhyme.

I’m not submissive. I don’t give up.

Your words mean nothing.

Take your best shot.

Give it all you got.

I have words for you.
I could scream until I’m blue.

What good would it do?
It’s pointless to argue with a fool!
So you ask, why am I so ghetto?
I believe acting meek and quiet,
it’s staying silent.
Why does it take aggression?

How should I get your attention?
The communication is gone.

Take a look at your phone.

Wo do you really know?

Look around, are you lost or found?
Words are a tricky little thing.

Perspective is the key.

We both see it differently.

Say what you mean and keep it clean.

Words don’t hurt, the meanings do.

That’s why a look can kill or make you swoon.

Silence can be so loud it makes you cry.

Feelings are what we cannot deny.

Performed by Val Cole

The Shepherd’s Song by Bruce Waddell

I cannot cross

It is not water but language that divides us

French is not my tongue

Canteloube’s Occitan beyond me

The composer stands his ground

He alone can make this work.

From the first bar I am lost to the world

For six minutes twenty seven seconds

On the soaring voice

Of Frederica Von Stade

Carried by her operatic tongue

I understand the idyllic the ancient shepherd lived

Floating on air the maiden’s warning

Reaches the far side of the river

And breaks the shepherd’s isolation

No longer alone with his sheep,

In love

With the melody lightly hovering over the meadow

Wake up and live – I was told today.
Ignite a transformation, to be built.
When an event happens and tears may fall.
You won’t know what to do,
Until the moment occurs when you realise,
The end isn’t the end.
It’s a birth of a new beginning, of another adventure.
You’re a vessel,
Your soul will become a state-of-the-art.
When that arises and you go forth into your stages of healing.
You will be reborn into another.
All you will think of is the worse at times.
Fall into darkness so to speak.
But your path remains to be continued.
However, you wish it to be.
You’ll shake, fears will grow, hurt will manifest,
But you’re still breathing.
So, exhale, pursue the outlook of what’s to come.
You may be a vessel of short stories, long adventures or one night.
But remember this,
You’re the vessel to your own soul.
Be the human you want to be.
Fight for the mystery’s and moments in which scare you.
Explore this moment in time,
Let the universe take you on its wonderful adventures.

Alia Kassem @chasingthepoesi

Mirror mirror

What is this reflection I see
That of
This man whos image is just like me
Enriched melanin skin
Strong features
Same bulb eyes staring back at me
More silver upon his crown
Other than that
The carbon copy of me
Where you been
O.G
O.Geez
Its been hard out here
alone on these
CoLd harD streetz
With
No one for me
To model myself after
For a long time these
Mirror Mirrors
Had forgotten
The image of me
Took a while
To come to terms with
Features so unique
Ignoring that the source
Was ever so strong in me
O.g
Oh geez
Where you been
I battled demons alone
Inherited unto me
By a forebearer unknown
without a throne
Astrology alone
teaching me
what a lion king I truly could be
Pushing aside all sadness
Inviting in all badmindness
Just to survive this madness
Product of a broken home
Asphalt paths roamed
Incorrect figures followed
Holding on to hopes
That knowledge would flow into my wide open dome
It was never so
Continued to wander alone
Dashed dreams
Lost hope
Lost days
Mirror mirrors
Reflecting plenty of rain
WIthdrawn deep within
Masking all my pain
Mind swirling
Asking the same questions over and
Over again
O.G
Oh geez
Where you been
I had been on a vertical dissension
Downwards
Deep within the valley of sin
I pulled myself up from the ashes
LIke a phoenix
Rising high above men
Resurrected
Mentally reprogrammed
Re booted and
corrected
No physical assistance
Mental strength
Ambition and persistence
Genetically imprinted
Gifts passed down unto me
Inadvertent traits
Mirror mirrors
Where unable to see nakedly
Genetic imprints
That helped uplift
A soul lost and alone like me
O.G
Oh geez
If only you had been here to see
No explanation necessary
For through my mirror mirrors
Much has been seen
I realize
you have lived and survived
the same stress and strife
just like me
I had been awaiting this day
Still my
mirror mirrors find it hard to believe
The image that they see
That of a man who looks just like me
Enriched melanin skin
Strong features
Same eyes as me
More silver upon his crown
Other than that
The carbon copy
of me
O.G
Oh geez
Where you been

Richard
Aundrae
Copyright © 2020

Mumma, Mumma,
Madhav chants eagerly.
Why is there watery falloff ???
From aloft sky,
So hastily & carelessly.
Switch the tap off,
Oh! Dear Mother!!
Madhav pointed strictly.
Be gracious at his pristine modality,
By same token reciprocated placidly.
Oh! My dear Madhav,
Dark clouds and thunder lighting
supervene with hail,
Signifies soothing monsoon
has splendidly nailed.
What Mumma did you just said??
Is it Moon..&…Sun on same earth bed..
He gave a good whirl,
Synchronously lighting made him thrill.
I tightly embraced him,
and cracked my will.
Oh! My dear, come a little near.
I will surely try, to answer all your pry.
Monsoon is a fruitful boon,
We get relief from scorched full noon.
Hot pakoras embedded with dhaniya chutney,
Are mouth-watering eatables over the spoon.
Chirruping birds and dancing peacocks,
Rhythmic and serene nature enjoyed by frogs.
Glare of greens and scenic beauty
are like soothing eye drops,
Mean moment Madhav rushed to
make vivid paper boats.
Oh!! Dear Son !
Scattered splashy paper boats on watery floors ,
Seems prismatic refraction of light from doors.
Madhav giggled and toddle around,
Pointing on the pelting pitter-patter sound.
Knavishly he hopped into aqueous slurry,
I just giggled at his puerility.
Oh!! Dear Madhav,
Tell me won’t you feel??
Weather with frigid breeze
and rainy drizzle, imply divine ‘ivory’.
Nodding his head up and down,
Says little Madhav,
Hey Mom!! Monsoons should wear
all weather’s’ crown.
Drift in “watery falloff” perception,
To “all weather crown” actualization.
Is simply I say “what an irony”,
Oh!! Little Madhav you jot down.

a burst of lovely yellows hopes
a star of the stunning sky.
them, looking down
upon the other flowerets,
cultivated by bonsai.

anchored in the substrata it stems
more than shoulders, more than heights.
verdant green leaves of which look
less like lance-ovate but my heart,
lumpish and ever fertile.

course hairs run all along its surface,
leaves ticklish and sandpaper-like.
blowing in the air of poetry, mumbling me-
” faulty aren’t always the thorny roses, but
also, us, who you poets never describe.”

soon the field calls for an Aster romance,
the sun crosses the horizon and them, their paths.
blossoming may have the entire garland
but sunflower of the Peach Passion
has it’s picturesque vehement too.

―Kartik Prajapat