Read Poem: Her Confession!, by Thomas Jones

Yes I’m angry but do you even care

Time and time the pain I didnt want to bare

All I was searching was a smile

But instead I found this list that lasted a mile

Name after name instance after instance

I know why you started to provide that distance

Fuck me right or that’s how it seemed

Not even on my worst day could this be something I dreamed

Guessing this is what I deserved right

Dealing with this nonsense our future not looking so bright

Gathering space in the internal realm of my mind

Being nonchalant to the disrespect completely blind

Tried giving my all but then again how could I

Staring into your hard blank wishing this debate would just go by

Wanna know a kicker to all of this

There was one waiting on the downfall ready to supply bliss

Different day new song a whole new beat

The new, ready to go to battle never accepting defeat

Sadly i wasn’t looking recruit another

My savior was your love but you didn’t care to cover

Call it bullshit but you still must admit that truth

Guarantee they promise to keep the issues under our roof

Too many times I heard those stinging NOs

Meanwhile it was an cop out so you could be on the go

Well baby here’s your walking papers you are FREE

With all the emotions and logics I tried sift through I apologize for not being the wife you felt I needed to be

Read Poem: The Haven, by Lawrence Mathebula

In a safe place,
Where I want to be
Living my happy days
Surrounded by family;

A multitude of hands,
Oh the daily
Hours until the end
Passes and tomorrow early,

When it begins again.

She only needs a Man.
Is she a woman enough
Grown up;will never turn,
When I need her nigh to love

Unto my crying soul?
Children, in that too
Them counted oh a whole
Lot of us, even you.

In a safe place
Accepted;undenied
Her love’s struck pulse solace,
Me ‘gainst the storm and tide,

When it begins again.

I only need a woman,
A lovely careful mother
Behind created plans.
I’ll follow it as a father

Tolerating, getting older.

Read Poem: FIDDLE IN THE SOUTH WIND, by Neo Amakievi

dear south wind

one day we will linger under the sun

my aching heart,
let us one day make music
curing all the inner cancers
melting this pain like a candle in a fireplace
like the south wind, blow me to the north
make me fly with no wings
make me fiddle the wind’s strings
twiddle, twiddle, fiddle

dear south wind
let us make music under the moon
where crickets dance at our presence
like Gaelynn and Alan fiddling in this moment of bliss
let us face the truth of our past, dear heart
spreading our souls like blankets to keep warm
on this tiny desk where minds are drunk on love wine

my aching heart
let this wind bear us up on lofty heights
and on it, we will forever fiddle tunes
we will forever twiddle off this fume
nothing will come between us
when this wind carries us away
to the future I yearn for…

(c) Edwina ‘NEO’ Aleme

GENRE: Hope, Love, Fear, Relationship, Heartbreak

Read Poem: The Tale of Mark, by Jacqueline Mead

There lived a young lad called Mark.
Who lived by himself, under a bridge in the Park.

By day he would wander around, alone.
He was lost and lonely with no place to call his own.

Mark, though, had a magic trick.
He could play a good tune with a couple of old cans and a pair of drumsticks.

By day Mark would set up his show.
Tin cans, his drumsticks, a few lights to create atmosphere, give a bright glow.

As the day turned to night and the sky began to turn red
Just as young children were going to bed.

Mark would play his tunes on his cans.
It had the sound of a large marching band.

People would gather around in large crowds.
They would gather in all weather, sun, rain, grey clouds.
People would listen, clap, sing a long, generally being very loud.

People started to leave money in a hat on the floor.
Mark was hoping one day to have enough to rent a place with his own front door.

For now though Mark was happy as he was, by day he was still alone. This gave him time to think, maybe he would add a saxaphone.
Perhaps a cymbal or two, maybe a harmonica strapped around his neck and a few bells attached to his shoe.

There was no end to Marks talent, his fame grew far and wide
Mark remained down to earth, not full of pride
Mark earned a small fortune, enough to buy somewhere with his own front door
Mark didn’t think he could ask for more.

Mark longed for someone to share it all with, by his side
When one day, out of the blue,
Mark was feeling lonely again, but now he had nothing to do
A young girl happened to knock on his door
She was carrying some samples of a carpet floor

Mark invited the young girl in
Bought all of her samples, which put the girl in a spin
Mark invited the girl to stay for a while
While he explored his purchase of carpet tile

They talked and they laughed, until it was very late
Then Mark cooked them a meal, served on a plate

They devoured the meal swiftly and then had some fun
With the meringue, cream and floured bun

Now Mark has a young Wife and several small children by his side
Young Mark is grateful for his lot
And often puts on free gigs, for the homeless, in the Supermarket parking lot.

GENRE: Humour, Storytelling, Love, Family, Society

Read Poem: THESE ARE THE BLUES, by Marianna Gerrman

Idly sitting by the fire…cigarette in tow,
drawing smoke rings in the hazy air,
disappearing…and reappearing once more.
Thinking of you and me, chiding each other
about this or that…
Why is it, that there’s a fine line between love
and loathing? I’d like to know, I’d like to know.
Wishing you were next to me, at this precious moment,
while I’m here loafing around, doing absolutely nothing.
Combing my hair, counting one, two, three…to be, to be and be.
Thinking I should read a book or listen to a radio’s forgotten melody.
Wincing at my own image in an age old mirror…oh how old
do I look now, younger, older than my years, let’s hope
my eyes deceive me.
I can’t stop pondering that I’m about half way done with life,
or it’s about half way done with me.
Oh what’s to be done about that….
Nothing, absolutely nothing. Or anything?
I must be grateful to be still breathing and….walking, as often
As I like to, every other day, especially on weekends, in the park. Or
just being able to watch people and birds and trees…
Life is so different now than oh so many years ago,
it’s all so je ne sais quoi….
And yet I’m thinking the same old idle thoughts as in the good old days
or maybe they’re different, they must not be the same, they must.
You’re saying I should do more with my life,
Like somebody…..like Piaf perhaps with “Je ne regrette de rien…”
No, I don’t have any regrets, though some days I do,
and what of it. Everybody does….so I like
to do nothing at all, maybe not make a mark at all,
though I desperately WANT to….

I want you to say, “It’s okay.”
But you stay silent….

October 3, 2012

Read Poem: Flipside of the Familiar, by Bob Eager

Flipside of the Familiar
Mr Authenticity Bob Eager

About time to meet the Other side of the coin,

Under the surface topic revealed..

Relatable Subject matter flipped on its tails head.

Now Floating in regular view—-

Discussed now readily and available for mass consumption,

Beyond comprehension but necessarily openly stated –

No longer kept a hidden underground secret ;

Now the unearthed topic has finally been fully realised with …..

Just got its just due and now fully approaching a congregations celebratory lips.

Sound familiar maybe?

Generated by its upturn.

Go figure this Abstract concept just got promoted to the forefront!

Obverse or Converse route–

You Pick!

The End!

Read the TOP POEMS from MAY 2019

Read Poem: PRISON OR HOME?, by Laye Da Writer
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/30/read-poem-prison-or-home-by-laye-da-writer/

Read Poetry: SUNSHINE IN HER EYES, by Hope S. Brown
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/30/read-poetry-sunshine-in-her-eyes-by-hope-s-brown/

Read Poem: ALL MIGHTY PEN, by Sujoy Bhattacharya
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/29/read-poem-all-mighty-pen-by-sujoy-bhattacharya/

Read Poem: WE WHO, by R.J Britten
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/29/read-poem-we-who-by-r-j-britten/

Read Poem: SELF DESTRUCTION, by Misty Manor
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/29/read-poem-self-destruction-by-misty-manor/

Read Poem: FINAL GOODBYE, by Becky Bishop
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/29/read-poem-final-goodbye-by-becky-bishop/

Read Poem: A New Season, by Melba Christie
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/29/read-poem-a-new-season-by-melba-christie/

Read Poem: Grow, Soul of Child, by Panda Boy
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/26/read-poem-grow-soul-of-child-by-panda-boy/

Read Poem: Mannaz, by Lawrence Mathebula
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/23/read-poem-mannaz-by-lawrence-mathebula/

Read Poem: UNDER ONE BIG SKY!, by La Gina O. Gross
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/23/read-poem-under-one-big-sky-by-la-gina-o-gross/

Read Poem: FEELINGS ARE NOT THE ENEMY, by Chisala Kataya
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/23/read-poem-feelings-are-not-the-enemy-by-chisala-kataya/

Read Poem: D0DG3 TH1S, by Asanda Sigenu
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/15/read-poem-d0dg3-th1s-by-asanda-sigenu/

Read Poetry: Sestina: THE DANGERS OF THEY, by Steven Fortune
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2019/04/10/read-poetry-sestina-the-dangers-of-they-by-steven-fortune/

Watch the APRIL 2019 Poetry Readings

 

ASPIRATION by K. Exum

IT’S TOO LATE, by John T. Leonard

BOOTS, by Stephen Void

 

INNA BFLAT, by Sharon M. Musgrave

LET THIS DAY, by Katarina Jovcevska

NIBBLES, by Sebastian Hales

Poem Short Story: The Discombobulated Humph  & His Christmas Glumph©, by Si Baker

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read Poem: PRISON OR HOME?, by Laye Da Writer

Confined to these desolate walls

Waiting for the day they make a releasing fall

Always thought it was my mind trapped

Feeling this glass ceiling tapping completely capped

Released for hours at a time day in and out

Listening to my soul have its internal cry yet no external shout

Save me from the pit I’m slipping into will you

Sadly you can’t because you know not what I must do

No warden no bars no alarm

But mentally to me it’s crippling causing harm

Any ounce of a smile snatched away with the slight thought

Bringing fun here couldn’t even be in my wildest thought

Come on it can’t be that bad right

Here take my shoes prepare for this flight

No ease of woosah in the moments of need

All of it sucked up in the wickedest way of greed

How can I escape is what you ask

I’m hoping you standing on the outside can help with the task

Free me from the dread walking through the gates also my threshold

If the walls could talk not a tongue would they hold

Once looked as my paradise but viewed now as my end

Spirit broken by the entrance when only meant to bend

What joy does it bring to mind

Because even Jesus got out a wicked bind

I just want the caged animal to be released and free

Rewarded with love and empowerment being the best, best can be

Tired of carrying this fight will you save me

They’ll never see what I saw or feel this

Either I’m walking out or burning my burdens

In the end one was captured walks away to close the curtains

Read Poetry: SUNSHINE IN HER EYES, by Hope S. Brown

She entered the globe with a poker face
wary of worldly lies,
regardless she had dreams to chase
for she had sunshine in her eyes.

She looked at them, withholding herself
placing her feet gingerly,
and knew those dreams had a price to pay
which she cannot tip niggardly.

What’s a vision without the action
she knew she had to dare,
shortly she submerged the notion
and cleared the wavering air.

She went all the way
to seize her winning streak,
uncovering her distinctiveness
as that’s what her life seeks.

We cannot kill her spirit now
since life has made her wise,
she’s got the spunk to move mountains
for she has Sunshine in her eyes.