Time takes the dream without feeling the taste,
What freedom from a heart without flying
Only I know the way that both tiled
No stones to put on, stone that fell apart.
Brilliant sun without taste, lives by a thread
Lets spread wings and fly, even in these
Way that bleeds so much through the skies.
The hours pass the time passes the moment
So small that longing blows
Without a heart, without flying.
Open wings shine in the sun’s rays
It fills the weary heart and heaven has fallen out of dreams.
My love that love has not undone
Lived by a thin leaf by paths that I found,
Those I could not find without shaking hands.
Author: poetryfest
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Read Poem: To Heal My Woes by Newton Ranaweera
Kuveni, never did I want to claim
You’re a witch who trapped me in your trance;
You know I was a captive in our game,
A vicious, ruthless political dance.
I only did enact their plot to seize
Your throne and spread a tale not true at all,
A witch you were whose decease did please
Islanders lived with hopes to see your fall.
You were their queen, a beacon in their life,
The guiding star; that was the truth, dark truth;
When you fell prey to my love to be my wife,
They lost their hope; we staged our plot so smooth.
But love my love I know is true and pure;
My hope is that for sure my woes to cure.
Copyright © August 5, 2018, Newton Ranaweera
Poetry Reading: How To Write A Summer Poem by Marta Knobloch
by Val Cole
*****
Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com
Director: Kierston Drier
Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne
Editor: Kimberly Villarruel
Camera Op: Mary Cox
Read Poem: Erstwhile Enemies by Christopher Hickey
When I look above the treeline,
I see the clouds opening,
just enough.
A gull embraces flight,
and I track it across the late afternoon sky.
The clouds are indecisive.
Rain? Sun? Neither.
Just the remainder of a day heading to meet a dusk secret.
Hushed by heated water vapor escaping into the air.
Other birds chirp, and I do not know their names.
They gather twigs, harvest insects.
Nature is a busy industry,
defiant of encroaching societies.
Then!
A random Monarch Butterfly oscillates past me.
I’m captured in its tractor beam, by its in-flight movie.
A solitary being.
An independant film, full of beauty and lessons.
Evocative.
A meddling midwife, this butterfly.
Pulling daft dullness from my wounded womb.
Clearing the ledger of my mind.
Musing.
Stultification usurped by creative energy, passion, and fury.
Oscillating.
Rebirth, one fluttering wing at a time.
Oceans away, waves search for the moon’s gravity.
Somewhat certain of its existence, despite passing doubts.
Lunar lulling rhythm,
playing sessions of seasons.
The dark side of the moon pulls the purse strings of treasured guilt.
Also, certain of its existence.
A feeling flowing as thick as honey, but as vile as vinegar to an unsuspecting palate.
Read Poem: order order stop disorder by Dr.Y.P.Kalra
Genre: traditional values eulogized
even when the world smothers thousand shocks
we must all stand bold errect hard as rocks;
this world has falsities vanities most optimum
witness we most nasty rapacious rebellious reactions;
every way every where the gutters are open overflowing
stinking social sharks are on every street dominating:
scorpions,dragons,dungeons,draculas ransack all corners
monsters,maniacals,mephistophils,monkeys,morphine suppliers;
shuttles down honesty,morality,modesty,honesty, sincerity
shops open immorality,nudity,prolixity promiscuity,profanity:
where are temples,oh you Man they are only raping gamboling places
priests,teachers,doctors,ministers,preachers all have gods displaces.
A Footnote to Shelley’s ‘Ozymandias’ By Parveen Talpur
The Desert Woman
I remember,
Within the loose circle of a veil
A face strong, striking and pale
Bearing a Sphinx-like riddle
Its expression stoic, features intriguing
Chiseled sharply by piercing winds
Tanned darkly by the blazing sun
It called for a poet to feel its solidity
A historian to read the history engraved on it
In isolation it stood, in distance it was lost
Leaving its imprint on my memory
All these years after it keeps haunting
The only feature in the vast monotony of that desert
A rare ore amidst the grains of sand
Unread, unnoticed, unnamed
Insignificant and opposite of Ozymandias’ fame
Poetry Reading: Knight and Dragon by BRIAN T. SLUGA
Performed by Val Cole
*****
Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com
Director: Kierston Drier
Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne
Editor: Kimberly Villarruel
Camera Op: Mary Cox
Poetry Reading: MEAN GIRLS by Linda R. O’Connell
Performed by Val Cole
*****
Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com
Director: Kierston Drier
Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne
Editor: Kimberly Villarruel
Camera Op: Mary Cox
Poetry Reading: MORONIC MOTORISTS, BY JOHN ROSS HARVEY
Performed by Val Cole
*****
Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com
Director: Kierston Drier
Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne
Editor: Kimberly Villarruel
Camera Op: Mary Cox
Read Poem: TO THE GIRL WITH THE RED BRACELET by Jack Peachum
(Fragment)
Quietly,
you looked back.
I think you will go
when you meant to stay.
Red bracelet,
I am not yet water under the bridge,
I am not the horny traveler–
and you are not a red thread
to tie round my heart!
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