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: Study in Red, by Cathy Cade

My masterpiece, complete, twice edited
and printed out in pristine black and white,
is taken up with reverence from the printer.
I’ll scan once more to check that all is right,

then send it off. Oops, there’s a missing s,
conspicuous by its absence. What a pain!
Where’s the red pen?
Perhaps that longish sentence
doesn’t sound quite right. – re-word again?

There’ll surely be much better words than much
for that last phrase, and does this word exist?
Should it?
I’m not sure about this comma… Look it up.
See, here’s a full-stop missed.

My masterpiece is black and white and red,
with crimson spiders crawling west to east.
Back to the laptop.
Change, expand, erase,
Repair and print out one more time – at least.

Cathy Cade
http://www.cathy-cade.com

Read Poem: The Law of Survival, by Dave Dutton-Fraser

Her last home was nowhere, the next she’ll know on arrival
She breaks all the laws but one – The Law of Survival
She changes her name with each group of people she meets
She’ll fit in quite fine, we’re all the same on the streets

She’s out run the law and her exes, sometimes it got tough
Boyfriends or the cops, they’ve all treated her rough
And she leaves behind messes, some large, some small
Its the only trail left behind her, if you see one at all

Sometimes she dreams of a different life when she awakes
So she trades her soul to end pain, if that’s what it takes
She thinks she is aging too quickly, more Mrs. than Ms.
But its too late to stop now, where ever this is

She’s not waiting for death, she’s just out running life
That’s how you move faster than chaos and strife
Perhaps she’ll see different one day, follow a new Bible
But til then she follows one law – The Law of Survival

Read Poem: LOVE’S NEEDLE, by Anne Leigh Parrish

Watch them tug along
First her, then him
Walking like looped stitches
In the slanted evening light

Watch her thread him
On her spool
Cast perfectly on the bobbin
Of this orange sky

So long together, they have
Sewn, pulled apart, frayed
And dropped the needle’s thread

But now they rest and
Gather up their loosened strands
Bound together, always

Read Poem: The Apostrophe Catastrophe, by Richard Havenga

Some people’s
use of the
apostrophe
is a catastrophe,

but you’re not
among those writers,
because your skills
are more refined.

It’s not that hard,
really, to remember
when and where
to hang this
little hook:

dangling up there
joining friendly letters;

taking the place
of i in it’s,
it is especially
beneficial;

or shyly
possessing things,
like the poet’s words
on New Year’s Eve;

or humbly
substituting itself
as a contractor
in word construction,
when other punctuations
can’t, or don’t,
or simply won’t
accept responsibility.

The apostrophe
has no feelings of
superiority to its
lower cousin
the comma,
it’s merely
doing its job,
in the place it belongs,
overseeing things,
bringing meaning
to this lovely language
that’s ours.

It is always eager
to help its letter friends
become words.
That’s why it’s there,
to be useful
to you and yours.

It has always,
always loved
s the best,
don’t you agree?

Now that we’re
in agreement,
we are able
to move on,
are we not ?

http://walkwithfathernature.blogspot.com/2017/12/the-apostrophe-catastrophe.html

Read Poem by C.W. Veränderung

let your soul whim beyond it’s wiring
or wander through old feelings like coals of
fire
imprinting previous struggles
as worse mutations of what once was
the frail wails of yesterday echo inside you
stirring haunting waves across your unsettled
ocean
but these are mere memories
a plate to deal with at your table
before tomorrow breeds something new

Read Poem: The Yearning, by Ken Allan Dronsfield

In a lifetime spent yearning

through which came wishing and dreaming

within many splendid, unquiet enthusiasms

a voice murmured back the word, prayer!

I was needy and you were solicitous,

my mind always straying to paradoxes.

Instead I uncovered brazen devotion,

the perkiness brought such euphoria

and so I screamed, ‘Is that a blessing?’

Mattering and assaultive within theodicy

Urging and purging within my slyness,

shyness or otherness, I could not awaken.

Tossing its ghost into all desires,

‘It’s that barrenness,’ I muttered

Quirkingly back into my memories

craving the eccentric, eclectic fantasy

the yearning, an essential evanescence

an evolutionist laughed at me in retort.

‘It’s that piety,’ I whispered.

The saintliness simply smiled.

Biography:

Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran and prize winning poet from New Hampshire, now residing on the plains of Oklahoma. Ken is a proud member of the Poetry Society of New Hampshire. He has three poetry collections, “The Cellaring”, “A Taint of Pity”, and “Zephyr’s Whisper”. Ken was the First Place Prize winner with his poem “With Charcoal Black, Version III”, in Realistic Poetry Internationals 2018 Nature Poetry Contest. He also won First Prize in their 2019 Nature Poetry Contest with his piece, “Sonnet 17, Quiet Time”. Ken has been nominated three times for the Pushcart Prize and six times for the Best of the Net. He loves life, his family and spending time with his cats Willa and Yumpy!

Read Poem: Bad Company, by Jason Yearick

Words are
falling,
tumbling, to
the ground
enjambments
spilling down
railways
without
a sound-
poets, are
whimpering,
writers,
simpering,
readers
wrestling
words
roughly,
regretting
this word
squall
realizing-
this poet,
has
abused
them
all.

GENRE(s): Popcorn Poetry, Writing, Humor, Life, Human Condition, Relationships

Read Poem: AS MY OWN BREATH , by David Dephy

After centuries of living with nothing, but my love to you, friends,

I found myself surrounded by the luxury of feelings and I am safe

now, I am alive, I am breathing again, but where were you, my friends,

when I was broken? I am calm now, but where were you my friends

when the emptiness encircled me and I was afraid? Where are the friends

when I need them most? I was yearning for knowledge, but from this

day on, I don’t want to know a thing except for, will I be able or not

to love you again, friends. Maybe everything and maybe nothing that I

have given or maybe not given away will ever be really as mine, as my

own breath? Hello friends, I found you after centuries of living with nothing

but my expectations — our life is what our expectations are. I thank you all.

David Dephy

January 2, 2020

Read Poem: Lost Soul, by Niall Alexander

#thebeatpoetuk

This is a memoir,
A tale about love.
A story about a girl,
Who’s now an angel up above.

Taken too soon by,
Workers from hell.
Now this is her story,
That she could never tell.

To understand this soul,
Let’s go back a few years.
To a time in her life,
When she was close to her peers.

The eldest of six,
But back then it was three,
Big sister to all and
All a daughter could be.

An actress, a model,
Ballet Superstar.
This girl had some talent,
Told would always go far.

This was always to be,
Her path was so clear.
But then something called love,
Just suddenly appeared.

She fell for another,
Who’s gaze was hypnotic.
Felt instantly for him,
Not knowing he’s psychotic.

At first she was happy,
Life’s great a perfect time.
Then money started to get,
Really really fine.

He would spend all she had,
Kept wanting more.
Saying he was looking for work,
“I love you”, 20 draw?

After a while
His addiction got to her,
But not in a way,
Where she saw his worth.

She started using,
Couldn’t take the stress.
She loved him so much,
Didn’t want anything less.

At first is was..
Just to calm her down,
A edge taker, nothing heavy..
One time around.

She wished she could of..
Taken it right back,
But the feeling it gave her,
Had such a smack.

On her life in that moment
All troubles had gone,
No money worries,
NOTHING AT ALL…Was wrong.

It was only after her..
Little trip,
Did she soon feel a low,
A sudden hit.

A rush of emotions,
All piled up in stacks.
All issues in life,
That she put to the back.

Gripping her mind
In a toxic like glove,
The lowest she been
Now in walks her love.

He walks over towards her,
Places his hand on her back,
Moves her hair from her face
And kisses her neck.

He tells her “it’s ok,
Things are gonna be alright”..
While he hands her a joint
Then hands her the light.

She’s crying, feeling drained,
Just wanting to escape..
Then she takes a toke,
Suddenly feeling very strange..

It’s not a
Normal high,
Nothing green
About this smoke?

“It’s just a little white, go on take a few more tokes”

She’s hazy, her worlds spinning,
She doesn’t have a clue..
He’s over by the couch
Lining up another few.

As she stumbles to the bathroom
Trying to get a grip.
Looking for her bag,
Finding nothing in it.

All contents on the floor,
No money in sight.
She looks over towards him,
And he asks for a light.

Its obvious to her,
But she wants to hear it from him,
His temper arises,
And he goes for a swing!

She falls to the ground, saying..
“I know it’s not you!”
He kindly helps her up,
And walks her to the lou..

Saying..

“Sorry baby boo,
You just get me so angry,
When you say things
I didn’t do”

She walks out
From the bathroom,
He floods her
With his touch.

Holds her close,
Saying sorry,
Gripping her,
Way too much!

She try’s to pull away
He pulls her in his space,
Saying “sorry babe! I love you”
Then he forces in fast pace!

Although this is this first time,
It happens for years to come,
But this is the very moment
That brought it all on

Over time she lost it all,
Nothing left but only him.
Never finding the strength to
Really make a grin.

He used her
For cash
Treated her body
As asset,

Doing things she
Didn’t want to,
Maked him money
For their habit..

Made her sell out
On the corner,
For their daily
Rush amount,

All the time
She is thinking
Please someone!
Help me out!

Her family at this time
Were now scattered all around
Wanting her safety
Trying to bring her too closer ground.

But she couldn’t leave the country,
As this was down to him.
She got arrested for possession,
And done for smuggling.

He left a stash at her place,
That was stolen from a gang
Police came banging at her door,
And dragged her in a van.

After doing time
For his actions,
She was never
Quite the same.

Entire life
Fucked over,
Prick!
Nowhere to be blamed.

She’s running from her life,
No other way she sees
Trying to heal the pain
But can never feel a breeze

Disconnected from the world
No other way she knows
Trapped in a net of
Misery from those..

Lost soul.
She’s a lost,

lost soul.

By

#thebeatpoetuk

Niall Alexander