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 Poetry: MY SWEET HELL, by Christopher Rosana

Fair, freakish, faithful,

Fabulous, forceful, fierce,

Fiery embers laced upon the bond closely made, eye to eye,

Forceful, ah irresistible, desires of the calm evoked,

Fastidious, detail and detail of my stares, your gazes, elicited by the mystery of you,

Foment my fears to their demise, sweet betide even with painful salty tears,

Folksy, though unseen, I see the paradise in your eyes,

Fasten your weird self upon mine own, see me true for yours to own,

Finding what hitherto unfound, camp at my fiendish straits; unleash your fierce,

Fire, fire, fire, though I may burn, I burn not truly for am only warming me up,

Fire, Hell, inferno, you bring, a better sweet to the cold indifferent docile others be,

Tis not hell you bring, not truly, tis warmth that burns all of my winterish fears when away you are,

Tis not hell you bring, truly, tis flowery beauty of you

This is the hell you bring, a hell that isn’t hell, but sweet.

Read Poetry: Jealous, by Zachary Walma

Pretty eyes, pretty thighs, pretty face she never wanted.

Forced to live inside an object of desire.

Introverted, anxious, and the center of attention.

Watched from every side, waiting to be acquired.

Wanted, but never loved, by misfortune or chance.

Every prospect wanting more than she could give.

Taking if they could, every piece of satisfaction.

to pacify the needs with which they’re forced to live.

This way, and that way, in every kind of direction.

Taken, passed on, and consumed by the restless.

Never replenished, left weary and unfulfilled.

Caught up in the cycle, until she met Jealous.

Jealous knew more than any of the others.

Jealous payed attention and expected the same.

Jealous never slept so as never to lose her.

Jealous kept her close since the first time he came.

Jealous worked hard to keep what he wanted.

Jealous made damn sure she was contained.

Jealous didn’t like seeing her with others.

Jealous was stubborn and easily enraged.

Wanted, never loved, pretty object of desire.

Trapped in attention for which she never asked.

Running, recaptured, by Jealous devoured.

Things that are pretty don’t easily last.

Everyone wants, everyone needs, most of us take whatever we can get.

Give what you can, love if you can, don’t end up eaten by Jealous regrets.

Read Poetry: At This Hour, by Latonia Sears

One soul one heart one mind who was blind, twisted and hurt

It is very hard to tell sometime in the world at this particular time

As tragedy keeps a count of the lives in that have regretfully fallen

It seems stranger and stranger almost like a cancer and as in reality

Like the illness still no cure only uncomforting tears and unbelief

Everywhere we go lurks this unfamiliar danger fueled by anger and hatred

This earth of ours is really off it’s axis because this keeps happening

America is behaving like a third world country instead of the greatest

Mothers Majesty the home of the brave and the land of the free

Has this become the end of liberty and following your dreams till you grow

So many people young, old keep stifling others lives in this kind of violent protest and shame?

Torn hearts and broken minds and beings that have now become departed souls in time

Nothing making sense and the masses are on the verge of giving up on life

Americans being struck down when they did not ask for it just living life

So much first time drama appearing over and over again in our life

No tell, tell signs alerting any individuals to the coming of this devastation

That has taken a choke hold on our country, our home our nation

The place that has always been my home with no doubt only assurance

America the beautiful this land of peace and prosperity where hate has ran free

Archived by a host of earlier henchmen but this is a totally different type of indignity

It has no real ethnicity the only color that is making headlines is the color of death

I will hold onto the hope that one day this country can become a better place to live

America a place of refuge and good living damn near a paradise to some of us

I believe in my country and the stars and stripes our flag bears so brightly

A country where being free is a dangerous thing a matter of life and death again

Individuals taking their freedom to the extreme and not caring about their fellow man

So many people thinking selfishly acting like real dupes who feel hurt and won’t understand

Before we lay down to sleep this night say a prayer for the families who are in tears

Trying to figure out why their loved ones had to say their fond farewell, adieu

That love will hang a halo over their hearts let God send his angels to help dry their tears

Seventeen more who had so much potential an aspirations “ Their God given right”?

Yeah that is the thing about America these days a lot that is given isn’t about God

As four words continue to adorn American currency “In God We Trust” What?

Read Poetry: Senses, by Eric Garner

Your pure beauty

Triggers my sense

Your everlasting laugh

Turns my days from gloomy

Your lovely smile

Sends me flying for miles

Sweet voice

Makes my heart warm

Your tasteful lips

Make me grasp you

Holding you tighter

Feeling your heartbeat

Holding my hands

Whisper in my ear

I know you’re near

Wipe my tears

Falling down my face

You hug me

Filling my body

With your joyful embrace

I touch your body

Not feeling sorry

You hold on to me

Never wanting me to let go

Cause there’s still more

To this show

Ya Know?

Baby Love

I’ll send out white doves

Shove me against a wall

Even though you aren’t that tall

Climb up on me

Kiss me deeply

Touch my body

Carefully

I’m sensitive

End my night

Start my day

I’ll be your knight

I promise I’ll stay.

Eric Danladi Garner Jr.

BIG BUTS, Poetry Reading by David Creighton

Performed by Geoff Mays

POETRY 7 questions:

1) What is the theme of your poem?

It’s a look at unconditional love, and whether that truly exists.

2) What motivated you to write this poem?

I like humorous poems with a twist at the end. This time, the twist even surprised me. It came from nowhere, a sharp shift to the theme, but far superior, I thought.

3) How long have you been writing poetry?

Since grade school, but only seriously for about five years.

4) If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?

I’d choose someone alive. Eating with a dead person would put me off my food. Oh wait, you said “who” not “which.”

Seriously, I think I’d like to eat with one of the oldest people in the world. Just so I can hear memories of times on the verge of being lost forever, and hope to preserve them in some small way.

5) What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?

I wanted a fresh take on my work and I know how important it is for all manner of artists to help and support each other.

6) Do you write other works? scripts? Short Stories? Etc..?

Oh yes. I write short stories, flash fiction, I write for games and occasionally blog.

7) What is your passion in life?

Imagination. I saw “The Muppet Movie” as a child and, ever since, I’ve wanted to be a lover and a dreamer rolled up into one “me.”

Read Poetry: IF YOU COULD FIX ME, by Melissa R. Mendelson

If somebody could fix me, 

I wouldn’t know where to begin.  

The mechanics of my heart 

might be beyond repair, 

and the confusion in my brain  

may have erased any hopes 

of remembering the dreams 

that I wanted to create. 

Glue might hold my body together,  

but what about the sadness       

that lies in my soul? 

What about the regret and anger  

that flow through my very veins, 

or the lack of passion I feel? 

Do I even want to be fixed? 

Am I just a machine that could be repaired 

with all my flaws taken away, 

or is time pulling me apart? 

What if they can’t put me back together again?  

I’m left holding pieces of myself.  

HANGER ANGER, Poetry Reading by David John Shafer

Performed by Geoff Mays

Get to know the writer:

1-Theme of poem?

Koyaanisqasti.

2-Motivation to write it?

The Muse.

3-How long have I been writing poetry?

My whole life really, I started when I was maybe 13 and I’m 28 now.

4-Dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would it be?

Probably Buddha.

5-What influenced me to submit to have my poetry performed by a professional actor?

I need the exposure if I’m going be an established poet. Also I do find something interesting about the idea of seeing a professional read my work and seeing that go out, seeing other people see that and maybe be affected, be moved perhaps.

6-Do you write other works? Scripts? Short stories? Etc.?

Totally. I write all kinds of different stuff, but mainly poetry and songs/song lyrics, particularly rap songs. I also write a lot of comedy sketches, jokes, and bit ideas.

7-Passion in life?

Serving the Muse as best I can. Creating great art.

Read Poetry: Magic, by Benjamin Bauda

Her kisses are warm and cool
She is beautiful to my mind than my eyes
She is my imperfect, perfect picture
She is Magic

Her touch is unexplainable
Her love is too good to be true yet true
Her words are marble on a scrabble
She is many words
but today she is a word,
Magic.

Magic is her choice of me
Magic is how I run to her
Magic is what she makes me feel
Magic is not good enough
But magic is what I feel for now
Sweet Magic that is real.