poetryfest

Poetry Reading: RISE AND BE ONE WITH THE SHINE by Gloria D. Gonsalves

Poem performed by Elizabeth Rose Morriss

Get to know the poet:

What is the theme of your poem?

Inspiration, motivation, courage and mindfulness.

What motivated you to write this poem?

I wrote what I felt would encourage anyone experiencing dark times.

How long have you been writing poetry?

Over 10 years and I’m still learning every day.

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

Maya Angelou. I would thank her for continuing to teach me how to make myself heard using the eloquence of simple words.

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

I dislike public performance. So your platform is the right place for me to co-share the skill of writing and performing with someone else.

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

I have published books on fantasy/adventure/educational tales with moral lessons. In the published portfolio is also a novella and anthology of thoughts. For anyone interested to know more, I am giving free books to visitors on my website.

What is your passion in life?

Inspire and invoke positive changes with my writing.

Poetry Reading: WORDS by Lawrence Klein

Poem performed by Elizabeth Rose Morriss

Get to know the poet:

What is the theme of your poem?

Empowering individuals to take control of themselves, to accomplish their goals. We all have that power, but unlike the simplest toy or device that we buy, WE do not come with an ‘Operators Manual’! This poem IS one, it reveals the simplicity of changing conciousness!

What motivated you to write this poem?

We have developed a powerful Smartphone Biofeedback instrument and I wrote the poem to explain how it can empower YOU!

How long have you been writing poetry?

Since 1972 – Forty-five years!

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

William Shakespeare

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

While I can read my own poetry, I wondered what an actor could bring to it with their own interpretation of it!

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

Yes, I wrote a Children’s Book – “Jacque the Lumberjack”, I wrote decades ago and is about to be published!

I have just started to Write a Book on Elite Sport Psychology, and my Forty Three Years Work with Olympic and Professional Athletes with the Mind Over Muscle Program I co-authored with Major Nory Laderoute, former Athletic Director of the Canadian Armed Forces Combat Training Center. It reveals the Power of Your Mind, to every individual – and how you can simply “Take Charge of Yourself”!

What is your passion in life?

Skiing, Consciousness, Self-Realization and Family

Read Poetry: Never give up, by Awodirepo Olabayo

When Ink fails the writer
The ballpoint refuses to roll.
When the sheet isn’t looking better,
And some words are missing on the scroll,
Oh! How unfortunate are the readers!

When the motivational speaker runs out of words
Air refuses to pass out through his bucal cavity. When all he could have is vocal without
chords
And a deep touch of boring words with no sanity.
What a loss for the depressed and discouraged!

When the greatest singer of all time runs out of lyrics,
The best rapper can’t just get two lines to rhyme,
The builder becomes scared to touch the bricks
And the fastest man runs out of time.
What a funny tragedy has struck the surface of the earth !

Fill up your Ink o writer
Pick up some better pens
For the readers are waiting.

Wake up o motivational speaker
Be filled with the right utterances
For the depressed are dying.

Come back alive o singer
Be filled with melodious songs of hope
For some hopeless hearts are weeping.

Get your lines right o rapper
Cast away your fears o builder
For on you, many are relying.

Be strengthened o runner
I tell you it is not over
To win is your calling.

#Awodirepo_Olabayo
#speaking_thoughts
#spoken_word_poetry
@Profjosh21

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Read Poetry: The Others, by Amanda Beyer

There are people with purpose. People who know what they are supposed to do. They have dreams, they gave goals to achieve. There are lazy people. People with no dreams. People who just get by…..and then there are others. Others who have dreams and goals to HAVE dreams and goals. To feel appreciated, to feel needed. Your words to them are daggers, more than most. One incling of failure and they are utterly defeated. But…you don’t see them, even as one, I don’t see them. They are Others. I am an other…and you don’t know. Others hide, praying to found, yet rarely are. We laugh, we cry…just like you….but we are not. We are different. Your words resonate within us so deeply we drown……Emotionallly, physically, spiritually….for the others, every day is the day we need to catch our breath, every anxious thought is an excuse to get out. Every cry for help is debilitating….every conscious thought is paralyzing…. Everything is other….we are other. I am other….and you will not understand.

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Read Poetry: Leave It, by Patricia J. Dorantes

May the clear touch of rain
Wash away for good the fog
That left your soul
Unable to see the stars.

Break into small pieces that pain
Whose chokehold drowned you in smog.
You deserve to recover what they stole
In the most bitter of the wars.

Close your eyes, young soul.
Let all the bitterness go away.
The night is covering you.
Relax and feel safe now.

Never forget that you are in control
Of what happens to you every day.
If you want to leave behind that dark hue,
Deep inside, your heart knows how

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Read Poetry: Congo Congo, by Miroslav Atanasov

CONGO, CONGO

Congo, Congo,
foreign land
I hurt for you
you’ve caused me pain.
Your tale’s gloomy,
your story’s sad
it makes me angry
it makes me mad.
My heart is broken
I don’t know why
now that I’ve met you
I want to cry.
A king desired you
from far away,
he lied, he cheated
knew how to sway.
That evil genius,
that greedy scum,
a worthless creature,
an awful bum.
He wanted rubber
to make him rich
he had no mercy
he was a witch.
He took you over
for profit’s sake,
to him you were
a slice of cake.
Kidnapped you children
enslaved your men
then raped your women
and robbed your land.
At home he told them
how good he was
a Christian civilizer
with a noble cause.
But in your jungles
the ugly truth:
he did not spare
even your youth.
Your hands, oh, Congo
were severed off
and stacked like garbage,

like useless cloth.
In Belgium palaces
and wealth like flood
success tremendous
paid with your blood.
O, king, how could you
commit these crimes?
You had no conscience,
you filthy slime.
Your country loved you
but didn’t know
your evil nature
your brutal show.
They have forgotten
whence their gold came
how it was stolen
and have no shame.
They built you statues
what a disgrace!
They minted coins
with your ugly face.
Leopold, you devil
now burn in hell!
We never want
your foul smell.
Oh, Brussels, Brussels,
please, do repent!
The blood cries out
from Congo’s land.
Thank you, missionaries
and Ed Morel
you told the world
of Leopold’s hell.
The night is gone
and morning came
but we remember
the awful shame.
Today, oh, Congo
you suffer much
while Brussels proud
and not in touch.
Your people flee,
they seek escape,
from war, from murder,

from violent rape.
Forgive us, Congo
we knew you not
now we are meeting
in life our lot.
We promise Congo
to pay our debt
to help your children
to give them bread.
We pray for blessings
on your great land,
oh, sweet Congo
we pledge our hand.
We love you Congo,
We’re now your friends,
We’ll tell the world
to make amends.

Read Poetry: Adultery, by Jan Franz Macaso

but yours and mine
which (should) now (not), is (be) known–
like planks placed for fences
was the day we’
ve decayed of
bodies both yearned
those termites–no,
they did not
cause our
feet into crumble

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Read Poetry: Boot Camp, by Stan Grimes

Genre: Life

Eighteen,

hot summer in Kentucky

we marched the hills

like soldiers do

counting cadence

counting days

counting ways to kill

shouting ways to kill

eighteen is young

shaved head and black boots

spit shined like a mirror

Vietnam in front of us

high school prom behind us

kill little men in pajamas

screamed the big monster sergeant

never seen one before

I trembled

that hot summer day

been trembling ever since.

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Read Poetry: Fragile Heart, by Penny Wilson

Genre: Love

This Fragile Heart I give to you,

To do with, as you would do.

Demons from the past have made me hide

And deny the love I have inside.

So Take this Fragile Heart with Care

And all the Love waiting there.

— Penny Wilson

www.pennylanethoughts.wordpress.com

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Read Poetry: AM I LOST?, by Fayia Foray

Genre: Life, Society

Run! I have run
Oh! I’ve died several times to this end
I’ll rest away from that bad beast.
This sound is not welcoming.
Turning and turning all about
So ferocious is the incoming voice
Can I run!
I must run. But run to no point at all?
I have fumbled and tripled triple times on this way.
There seems no way lead out
Yes! There is one, and the beast is within me.
How can a high class animal run from that low class?
Yes! T’s why t’s a beast
And we’re never the same
T may pierce my flesh but I, no
Except I may kill it out of defense
A beast is a beast; never broken like a cheese
Take to your heels when it wheels it presence
T will never understand like you.
Though the bad beast within you is the worst beast…the fear
I can’t hide…none to hide
Courage is the only weapon …and I’ll run
And I’ll run! And run to the end…

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