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.

Our Lives Begin to End the Day We Become Silent about Things that Matter #Inspiration #MLK — Poems for Warriors

“Our lives begin to end the day that we become silent about things that matter.” Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. These are very troubling times. We are in the midst of a global, deadly pandemic. Peaceful protests over the horrifying death of George Floyd in Minneapolis, Minnesota, have devolved into senseless riots all over the […]

via Our Lives Begin to End the Day We Become Silent about Things that Matter #Inspiration #MLK — Poems for Warriors

Father Daughter #Nature #Poetry #FunInTheSun — Poems for Warriors

climb on my backlet’s go for a stroll through the forest filtered by light I’ll take you with me through nature’s prism leaves changing color the forest floor crawling with bugs unique plants sprout a fantastic place to see something new open your mind imagine a place under this canopy © 2020 Jason A. Muckley

via Father Daughter #Nature #Poetry #FunInTheSun — Poems for Warriors

The Cure for Loneliness is Solitude #MarianneMoore #Inspiration #Journey — Poems for Warriors

“The cure for loneliness is solitude.” -Marianne Moore, The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore This quote by Marianne Moore, an American poet born in 1887, and died in 1972. She won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry for her book of poetry, “Collected Poems” in 1952. I love this quote because something I have found over […]

via The Cure for Loneliness is Solitude #MarianneMoore #Inspiration #Journey — Poems for Warriors

QUESTION, by Bliz Mordiop

THE BLIZMO PRODUCTIONS Presents

Whose voice do I hear?
Say which way to follow for a better tomorrow when
Tunnels are very dark, nightmares coming back, and…
I hear voices, different languages but…
I can’t pick my mother tongue.
What language do you speak?
And why my nation did you pick?
Enslave my people and turned my brothers against me.
Just like yesterday, I am still living for
Hope of a better tomorrow
Just like yesterday, the day before today it was sorrow
I am still confused with the idea of unity when only one race is involved. And my life feels like was borrowed I mean
Yesterday still alive today and tomorrow is just a dream.
A dream that will never come…

Now tell I where we going when priests owns jewellery stores,
You still treat sisters like whores
And politicians own mines.
The six has turned into nine.
If in church we meet gangsters…
There we meet all sinners.
But who is protecting us?
Tell me what you doing?
When you sit and watch children abuse alcohol and drugs
I dare you don’t care or…
Scared to make a step when streets asking for help…
And sisters are getting raped.
Who is leading here? Whose voice do I hear?
Tell me which way to follow for
A better tomorrow,
The storm is coming back.
What was once blue is now yellow.
Every hope is now gone.
Is my mission done? Why do I still feel alone?
Let your life be an inspiration and make that be ye mission.

Now pay attention in all you do,
We are all looking at you,
Children wants to be like you,
Sisters look at you as a hero,
Brothers be looking at you as an example.
But I be looking at you the same way,
My fathers did yesterday
Unchanged man,
Unchained man from the past,
Slavery, non-patriotic, still living sovereign,
Listening to the voice of minority,
A stranger we gave home and
Now wants to control my humility
Forcing me to enrol choicelessly, and concuss me
Taking my power and confuse me,
Obscure us all so they can rule over our soil,
Stealing our oil, killing our souls,
Use us as tools. And calls us fools.
But you and I, share the same roots
We not fools, or anyone’s tools,
Bad or good, red is the colour of my blood
Now pay attention in what they telling you,
If it’s to hate me, tell them the truth.
We share blood, a cut on you will cause me pain.
And then you limits my speech, no freedom.

But who’s leading our people?
Who’s talking for us? Or…
Who’s taking us to freedom?
I am still forced to speak thy language,
Beaten with a wooden stick,
Forced to do hard labour even when I am sick.
But ask me whose voice I heard
I heard you,
You selling us out,
You afraid to spend life in prison.
I heard you saying okay,
You don’t care about our generation
Including the one’s coming, including my son Hakim.
A leader being led. So you follow, you don’t lead,
And tomorrow, you can’t reach to the nation, because
The people who stood by you till that position,
Be sitting at home looking at you and see a contagion.
Can you handle the situation? Do you care about the religion?
Do you have any notion to lead the nation?

Tell me what you doing?
Because no one is protecting us,
No one is fighting for our rights,
No one is taking care of our sisters or our streets.
No one is turning boys into men
And then no one talks for our children.
So pay attention in what they telling you,
If it’s to hate me, tell them the truth.
We share blood, a cut on your heart will make me bleed.
But now let this to you be a caution
Let your life be an inspiration and make that be ye mission.
Now pay attention in all the wrong you doing,
It must come back to you.

By Bliz Mordiop.

Lifting the curfew: “Every single action with a police officer either adds to or takes away community trust… in Seattle we’re committed to rebuilding it.” — Art of Quotation

Seattle protest, June 3, 2020 “Trust between law enforcement and community is earned. Every single action with a police officer either adds to or takes away community trust. Right now in Seattle, and in cities across America, we don’t have that trust. But in Seattle we’re committed to rebuilding it.” Seattle Mayor Jenny Durkin, on […]

via Lifting the curfew: “Every single action with a police officer either adds to or takes away community trust… in Seattle we’re committed to rebuilding it.” — Art of Quotation

“To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring – it was peace.” — Art of Quotation

To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring – it was peace. Milan Kundera

via “To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring – it was peace.” — Art of Quotation

“ The anger and the frustration we see playing out once again in our streets is just a reminder of how little we’ve grown as a country from our original sin of slavery.” — Art of Quotation

“We don’t know when these protests will subside. We hope and pray that no one else will be killed. But we also know that very little will change. The anger and the frustration we see playing out once again in our streets is just a reminder of how little we’ve grown as a country from […]

via “ The anger and the frustration we see playing out once again in our streets is just a reminder of how little we’ve grown as a country from our original sin of slavery.” — Art of Quotation

“Imagine — if you can — not having a conscience, none at all, no feelings of guilt or remorse no matter what you do, no limiting sense of concern for the well-being of strangers, friends, or even family members. Imagine…” — Art of Quotation

Imagine — if you can — not having a conscience, none at all, no feelings of guilt or remorse no matter what you do, no limiting sense of concern for the well-being of strangers, friends, or even family members. Imagine no struggles with shame, not a single one in your whole life, no matter what […]

via “Imagine — if you can — not having a conscience, none at all, no feelings of guilt or remorse no matter what you do, no limiting sense of concern for the well-being of strangers, friends, or even family members. Imagine…” — Art of Quotation

“There was a dispute this week about whose street this is. Mayor Bowser wanted to make it abundantly clear that this is DC’s street and to honor demonstrators who (were) peacefully protesting on Monday evening.” — Art of Quotation

source: NBC News WASHINGTON — District of Columbia Mayor Muriel Bowser on Friday had “Black Lives Matter” painted on the street that leads to the White House where protesters have been demonstrating following George Floyd’s death in police custody. “There was a dispute this week about whose street this is,” John Falcicchio, chief of […]

via “There was a dispute this week about whose street this is. Mayor Bowser wanted to make it abundantly clear that this is DC’s street and to honor demonstrators who (were) peacefully protesting on Monday evening.” — Art of Quotation