Peformed by Kat Smiley
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Producer/Director: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com
Festival Moderators: Matthew Toffolo, Rachel Elder
Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne
Editors: Kimberly Villarruel, Ryan Haines, John Johnson
Festival Directors: Rachel Elder, Natasha Levy
Camera Operators: Ryan Haines, Temitope Akinterinwa, Efren Zapata, Zack Arch
I write
I write often
Of an ethereal figure
He has no name
His presence
I can’t fathom
Only feel
Through the words I impart
Into the folds of napkins
On nights of drunken stupors
And banal escapades
Riveting in exaggeration
Dim bulbs and iridescent neon
Grim eyes with hairless brows
Fifty kilogram weight on my sole
Lower than the floor I stand on
Only then,
And only ever then,
I pray
For Clarity and Truth and Purpose
Sans scripture
Solely silence
“It was not written for me”
Cloudy, unwarranted comfort
In the fiction we tell ourselves
I knew I had dozed
I heard echoes of the voices
from an instant dream.
So many voices, a cacophony in my head.
He didn’t know I had dozed
No one did although it happened
several times that day.
He was still beside me, we were on the ship.
The speaker was still speaking
(I hadn’t even lost the thread
of what she was saying!).
I was still in this chair, in this place.
I knew the instant dream
had been as intense
as it was brief.
The voices faded away, back to the unconscious.
They knew they were being dragged
Back to their rightful place
in the invisible world they occupied.
They didn’t want to go, they longed to linger awhile.
I knew those voices
And wanted them to linger longer
And stay in their world awhile.
An alternate universe, an instant dream.
By Katharine Lovejoy Berman
copyright 8/18/2017
Winter is coming.
Another summer surrenders to the fall
There is a melody I’m softly humming
How many losses can I recall.
In the somber sullen wake of my disgrace
I seek redemption to save face.
There is a gnawing underneath the skin
A haunting howl amidst the din
The storm winds settle and blow back
I have plenty of strength to make up for what I lack.
Gravity has got me down again
The heart resounds a pulse from within
Autumn is nigh
I breathe in the earthen air
And simply sigh
And summon up a prayer.
Jayme Villa-Alvarez, 9/11/17
arknight.home.blog
Maybe I was meant to be this way.
A broken ugly mess.
Don’t know where I’ll go from here.
Dreams I dream less and less.
I know you think you don’t deserve me.
Or anything I do for you.
And you have fallen so many times.
You don’t believe anything to be true.
It’s hard to believe that life is fair
When I’ve fallen my last step.
Further and hopeless, distance grows.
There is but the ultimate escape.
I know you feel like this is the end.
But I’m with you till the end.
And if you fall get right back up.
Your armour, only you can mend.
I wish I could have your strength.
I wish I could be more like you.
I wish I was anyone but myself.
There is so many things I wish I didn’t do.
It’s never too late for you to stand.
I’ll give you all the strength you need.
I can nurture and care all I can.
But I can’t germinate a seed.
Do you think I have not tried?
I fall every moment I stand.
I’ve tried and lost my last breath
My hourglass has run out of sand.
I wish I could make you believe.
I don’t never want you to go.
Tell me why can’t I follow my heart.
And tell you what you need to know.
This is my battle, this is my fight
I can’t let you come and see
You are my last sacrifice I’m making
You have to stay away from me.
You are always worthy of saving.
I will fight everything for you.
Why can’t you accept after everything.
I will always and forever love you.
And I always did, that’s the reason.
I’m leaving you and everyone else.
I can’t look at my reflection.
And let you near someone who fails.
You leave and I’ll follow you.
Through the gates of hell.
I’ll tame the Furies and Cerberus,
I’ll hammer in Hades’s last nail.
You should not have come for me.
I’ve fallen and become ruler of this race.
Now this is your last battle symphony.
And I, your nightmare in flesh.
No matter what you may become.
You will always be my own.
No nightmare can frighten me.
Losing you is the worst fear I’ve known.
Finally I lay here in your arms.
As how it always should have been.
Blood flows freely from my soul.
As my body feeds the green.
This isn’t what our story was.
This cannot be how we lose.
Without you there is no me.
Your blade has now but one final use.
Live for your life my dove.
I was far too gone to pause.
One last wish upon a star.
That you find your lucky cause.
I promise your memory I’ll hold.
And cherish every day just the same.
And every time I see a star.
I’ll think of you and whisper your name.
Cool, calm, and collected
like the ocean on a sunny day
he smiles, happy and amused
he eyes shine bright
he reminds me of a flower
lovely and strong
He moves like a panther
fierce like one too
he looks at me like he loves me
maybe I love him too.
My flower was laden with dew,
So pink, so moist, and open;
Like lips that are parted in two,
Her center, her tongue, was golden.
And crossed by green blades of grass,
Formed in a triumphal arch;
Through which some great man could pass,
Or some great army march.
“I saw truth flick a cigarette at those guys”
“Truth don’t even smoke,” somebody else said
Another witness remarked, “Truth didn’t do anything, the guys in the car just shot for no reason”
Three people said truth started saying stuff, stuff nobody wanted to hear and that some people told truth to shut up, but truth kept jawing at every body
An elderly woman said truth was in the wrong neighborhood; had no reason to be there, especially at that hour
Somebody said truth needed to get its head on straight, needed some correction, one person, who refused to reveal her identity said all the witnesses were liars
Every body is coming from a different angle here
Every cusp of a cause is claiming their truth is the real truth
It was discovered truth had been shot in the back
Apparently, truth tried to walk away from the scene that night, wasn’t looking for a fight, it was suggested that maybe truth was a victim of mistaken identity, that perhaps the guys in the car thought truth was truth’s half-brother, half-truth, that happens a lot
Five suspects alleged to be in the car that night were brought in for questioning
Nobody admitted to anything and no one who was at the crime scene was willing to go to the lineup and identify anyone
You can’t blame them
If they can kill truth, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill friends of the truth too
You should have seen truth’s funeral
People from every race, neighborhood, income, political affiliation, religion, showed up
Who knew truth had touched so many lives?
Many testified how truth had always tried to make a difference, wasn’t afraid of being unpopular and how truth repaired their marriages and enabled others to face their conflicts and addictions
One person even claimed truth helped them give up fried calamari
It was very moving
At the cemetery, with the lowering of the coffin into the ground (You may not believe this, but I was there and saw it happen)
Truth opened the casket lid and got out, looked at everyone and said, “I’m not dead; you can’t kill me, I’m still here”
Then truth just walked off the cemetery grounds, still in grave clothes, crossed the street and went into this nondescript Chinese take out place and five minutes later got on a bus with what looked a carton of chicken fried rice
Some people were upset, “Where did truth get money for bus fare and food?” said one. Others blamed the media for hyping truth’s death in the first place to further their agendas
Truth, it’s been reported, was seen the following week at a police interrogation in Damascus, a divorce court in Akron, a perjury hearing in Allentown, Pennsylvania, a confessional booth in Holland and at a high school audition for “Cats” in Branson, Missouri
Truth, I just found out, was recently stabbed in a domestic dispute in Richmond, Virginia, but survived
Truth, it seems, gets around a lot
But maybe not as much as some folks get around the truth.
Narration by Val Cole
Visual Design and Editor: Kimberly Villarruel
Produced by Matthew Toffolo
With my husband by my side, I sit and reflect
Upon my image in the stream
At wonder in the changes of my being
The weather warm but windy, with oft a gentle spray of rain
I feel lively, lightness appears to be my gain
Sat at a spot of such beauty, it takes your breath away
Appreciating the silence, as you give thanks for the day
In front of you great Lakes of Water some world-famous being sailed or swam side to side
Behind you in contrast high Peaks and Mountains, waiting to be climbed
There are paths to be walked, Roman Forts to be found
Cruises to be taken, bikes to ride, hidden gems all around
Ice creams to be bought, footsteps to be walked
Pubs, Cafes, and Restaurants by the Water sought
There is history to be lived amongst the many Villages
There is romance to be read in Poetry of old
Wordsworth, Coleridge and Southey Poets of pure gold
Their stories and Poems, their legacies, forever being told
Dear Poet, pick up your Pen and paint a picture with your words
Tell the world your thoughts, let your voice be heard
Be it Romance or Nature that lets your mind wander free
I am your reader, paint your picture solely for me
I promise to take great care with it, treat it respectfully
Here’s thanks to all Poets new and old
Poets of great treasure with stories yet to be told
Do your best as Wordsworth, Byron and Coleridge, truly did
Be inspired light your candle, and be truly glad you lived
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