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.

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!

Read Poem: Reflections on Ties That Bind by Jan Little

If marriage offered a narrow tether like Denmark’s attachment to Europe,
I could have conformed that much to a husband’s wants
And gladly given all that connected me to him along that shared side,
Yet still have space to feel whole within myself
With time alone to welcome sunrises.

But in an era of coupledom,
Children, churches, friends appear as too tight enclosures
Like that of landlocked Poland vulnerable in its total connection to others.
The need for time to self-define would have pulled at those seams
I chose to sew myself into

—So, torn between need to soar with dragonflies
Or serve those who had depended on me, would leave me
Only ever be a halfling to them and to me.
And I would self-bind myself to a tree of love and know that
That to break even one branch to see the sunset
Directly and with no filter would break a dear heart.

Always my need to meander and to become
A nomadic jig-sawed raft, like Ireland, separated just enough
Would cause wars over custodial privileges—But after a while,
Loneliness would lead me to dock ports of serial monogamies
Until the yen to roam again arrived to leave
Those voices waking me from seaside talks with mermaids.

Yet love’s allure—to matter most to another—
To have another matter most to me–
Still calls to me as Penelope’s steadfastness
Did to Odysseus—
Like him, I could happily winter in love’s arms
With freedom to sail in spring’s seas.

Poetry Reading: THE COMPLEX MAN by Joy Genauer

Narrator: Kate Fenton
******

Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com

Director: Kierston Drier

Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne

Editor: Kimberly Villarruel

Camera Op: Mary Cox

Poetry Reading: I’M LIVING by Bhekuzulu Khumalo

 

Performed by Kate Fenton

*****

Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com

Director: Kierston Drier

Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne

Editor: Kimberly Villarruel

Camera Op: Mary Cox

Read Poem: To Manchester With Love by Kathy Walsh

Liverpool’s neighbour since time began
Cultural landscape ripe to explore
Exciting things if you have a plan
Or just want to go the match and nose round the shops.

I went to my first gig 22 years ago
I saw Blur at the G-Mex,
It was so like the MEN
There was none of this hate, fear and anger back then.

What happens through ideology
Only cements the love
People have for families, friends and siblings
It should be enough

There is no just cause, no right way to find the words
No explanation given
Who can? I can’t

I only hope as humans we remember
To be helpful kind and speak and do peaceful things

So the 22 people lost on a night out
Will be remembered as the people that were having fun
Manchester I send love,
Stay strong.

Note: I wrote this a few days after the terror attack at MEN last year in tribute to the 22 people who died after seeing Ariana Grande. The word Tribute is what I would like this poem to be considered for publication on the site and in print.

Read Poem: To the Piercing Underneath my Tongue by Zainab F. Raza

Golden lock,
In shape of a classic knocker
resting beneath its conveyer
to thoughts that I’ve decided to shut my doors against.
Golden lock,
holding unspoken treasures,
Golden lock, an unspoken treasure,
stabbing already raw gums.
Keeps me from sharpening the tongue of what many words that
turned
the misheard away.
And please don’t ask me why I sound so dull,
it hurts to speak.
Tastes like blood in here.
My mouth,
a home to where walls come down,
but who is there to invite?
Who will listen in borrow to
the suffocating voice behind gates of locked jaws?
I find no lending ear.
Who do I invite inside?
My golden knocker,
I made rupture for you by the piercing strike of a needle.
This is revenge to myself
for all that I’ve said,
so I suffer to I say what I think.
So I think twice, before you knock again.
And if it is worth the pull
of my aching tissue that’s known more cries than a box of goddamn
Kleenex,
I will answer.
Leisure to my lesion,
my thoughts are resting in apologies I want to say,
but let me rather spare you the pain of forgiving.
Because I know it hurts to speak.

Read Poem: SOY LA MUJER by Yeny Ferreras

Soy
Soy la mujer
Que te eriza la piel
Como la abeja y la miel

Soy
Soy la mujer
Dentro de tus pensamientos
Cuando mis besos roban tu aliento

Soy
Soy la mujer
Que te hace enloquecer

Soy
Soy la mujer
Que haces tus días brillar
Como el sol acaricia la mar

Soy
Soy la mujer
De tú atardecer
Como los girasoles en el amanecer

Soy
Soy la mujer
Que te lleva a las estrellas
Y en tu cuerpo deja sus huellas

Read Poem: The Spectrum by Joshua S. Kulah

This is the order we all learn in early childhood
Him, others, then self; that was ingrained in Sunday school

We saw it in our favorite heroes; from Batman to Robin Hood

Even “mama” told us that being inconsiderate to others wasn’t cool
Then we thought we’d grown up and did not have to care

We joined the rebellion and wore our hearts under our sleeves with no fear

Changed our perspective and saw no order, but we always knew before everything else was The One

And then the rebellion became a facade and a jackpot of too much care was found
Giving that much care to anyone wasn’t a problem

Finding a one who would want or appreciate that much was the struggle

We didn’t really pay attention to metrics, we just wanted to be a part of something bigger than ourselves

To form that team, a channel for emotions and a bond so solemn

Countless moments of lust, excitement and hurt slowly burst our bubbles

Till we reached the discovery of our philosophers’ stone where we asked: Why don’t we, instead, love ourselves?
Thanks to “loving lips that convince you you’re enough, Small smiles that make you forget to turn off the lights”

In those droplets of enlightenment, we saw our vulnerabilities; our elaborate masks.

Since, we questioned the pillars of our formation:

Why do we have to put every other thing first? Why so little emphasis on “self”?

No one else goes through my tolls other than I… what’s wrong with being a little selfish when I need my own?
“Love thy self, first” became the mantra.

We rotated our foundation doctrine totally opposite: self, other, then Him.

And our position was justified… First, there is always God regardless of us.

Second, our world is full of too much hate and everyone is out to gut us.

All out favorite heroes are filled with flaws: Batman never showed his face, and Robin was a thief.

Who then will be there when we can’t be our own heroes and stand for ourselves?
If I said your story ended, that would mean we are all dead…

So now, let me tell you what I think:

What if we’ve seen it wrong the whole time?

I think God is an essential part of what makes me, Me.

The fact that He’s unfailingly present helps me cope with a world that’s ever changing

And being selfless, to some extent, is key to being the best me I can be.

But self love is the holy grail when it comes to surviving all life’s dealings

Because how can I love God and others when I don’t understand how to love me?

So, I put myself first sometimes, cuz that’s the only way I know how to stay afloat when I’m drowning.

I’m my own knight in shiny armor cuz I’ve learned that only me can, always & every time, save me.
Point is, all the while we’ve got it wrong.

Everything on the scale is just as important.

And like an object viewed from different angles we see different perspectives.

But it has always been a scale on a spectrum.

We run from different extremes chasing the calm.

And that peace is only found in creating that equilibrium.

Accepting our flaws help us see that nothing is ever static for long enough.

While chasing our dreams, let’s keep the equilibrium in perspective.

Wherever we are in life is on that scale…

So it only takes a movement to even the odds.