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.

Watch the 5 November 2015 Novel Winners. Transcript readings performed.

WILDsound Festival's avatarWILDsound Festival

Watch the winning novel transcript readings for November 2015.

This month’s readings performed by actor Val Cole.

Chapter 1 NOVEL – Please Hold
November 2015 Reading
Written by Tricia Stewart Shiu

Chapter 7 NOVEL – From the Sky
November 2015 Reading
Written by J E Nicassio

Chapter 21 NOVEL – One Hot Summer
November 2015 Reading
Written by Ian Barker

Chapter 3 NOVEL – Follow in the Tigerman’s Footsteps
November 2015 Reading
Written by Colin Guest

Transcript NOVEL – A Life Singular
November 2015 Reading
Written by Lorraine Pestell

    * * * * *

DEADLINE: 1st CHAPTER/FULL NOVEL Festival.
http://www.wildsound.ca/book_contest.html

Get your story performed at the Writing Festival. FULL FEEDBACK on all entries.

WATCH the Recent Winning Short Story/1st Chapter Readings:
http://www.wildsoundfestival.com/novel_and_short_story_readings.html

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His Red Rattle, Poetry by Chris Biscuiti

He tries so hard to grab his red rattle
Staring intently as his hands reach out
One day soon he will win this next battle
Previous victories leave me no doubt

Genre: Rhyme, Family, People

His Red Rattle
by Chris Biscuiti

He tries so hard to grab his red rattle
Staring intently as his hands reach out
One day soon he will win this next battle
Previous victories leave me no doubt

He might not be able to smash his cake
But he’ll definitely love the flavor
With all he’s accomplished make no mistake
It’s been a year we will truly savor

He’ll have birthdays where he blows out candles
and unwraps all of his shiny new toys
One of these years he’ll easily handle
all the goodies given to birthday boys

This year we get the best gift there can be:
Six months without spasms and seizure free

    * * * * * *

Submit your POEM to the Poetry Festival: http://www.festivalforpoetry.com

WATCH POETRY READINGS (see what we can do when you submit):

WATCH POETRY MOVIES (see what we can do when you submit):

Poetry by Derek Ray

Do you embrace the place
where the trees grow untamed?

Genre: Inspirational

Poetry
by Derek Ray

Do you embrace the place
where the trees grow untamed?

They seem to know
what we want to hide;
the simple oneness that exists
between you and I.

    * * * * * *

Submit your POEM to the Poetry Festival: http://www.festivalforpoetry.com

WATCH POETRY READINGS (see what we can do when you submit):

WATCH POETRY MOVIES (see what we can do when you submit):

JASMINE NO MORE, Poetry by Daniel Hefty

WILDsound Festival's avatarWILDsound Festival

Genre: War, Political, People, Society

JASMINE NO MORE
by Daniel Hefty

I wake up in the night thinking about children
not mine but yours
you broken mothers
snatched from security and comfort
thrust into a divide uncrossable
left at the bottom of the rubble
from a sectarian blanket bombing campaign for peace
and domination

You wanted something you had no right to request
democracy would never replace the Shahs and Kings
did you believe they cared about God more than power
as they hauled off your sons and husbands
in the springtime of their lives
the Arab spring
as fire and brimstone rained down from the sky

I see vast expanses of barren mountain desert
scattered with scant shrubs and giant boulders
hand planted by Allah
moonlight catches up to the shadows
traversing a border into the unknown
where pregnant mothers will give birth to offspring
who will never have…

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HARMATTAN RESCUE, Poetry by HABIB AKEWUSOLA

WILDsound Festival's avatarWILDsound Festival

Genre: War, People

HARMATTAN RESCUE
by HABIB AKEWUSOLA

Embrace impact,

Slower the thinker,

History is stigma.

Sleep not deeper

Join me in commissioning
‘Operation Boko_haram extinguisher’.

Over the night our girls

Might never return.

Courage beats fear,

Sweat for peace or

Bleed at war.

Call time a ghost,

Time to extinguish Boko_haram

Including her host.

Immediate cultivation of

Nationalistic seeds through the

North, Africa and beyond.

Improve dreams of me,

And fatherless playing naked

Underneath Sambisa’s leaves.

With equal sacrifice

Authority doesn’t involve guns,

Camouflage protects love, as

Civilisation and conscience

Seasonally evolve.

    * * * * *

Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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HAMMER – AUDIENCE FEEDBACK from the Oct. 2015 Film Festival

horrorfestival's avatarFestival for HORROR

Watch the Audience FEEDBACK for HAMMER:

Here’s what the audience had to say about HAMMER (moderated by Matthew Toffolo):

“I applaud it for its avant-garde nature. It’s kind of a cool film.”

“I appreciate this film in its tribute to old-style storytelling.”

“The visuals really brought out a lot of emotion and feeling.”

Explanation from the Poet Cassandra Swan:
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/04/15/hammer-poetry-movie-by-cassandra-swan/

Turn your poem into a movie: http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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Disappeared, Poetry by Ravjit Singh

The nights were warm
And the wind howled quietly
In his head there was a storm
It crept up slowly but violently

Genre: Dark, Horror

Disappeared
by Ravjit Singh

The nights were warm
And the wind howled quietly
In his head there was a storm
It crept up slowly but violently

He went from smiles in the morning
To tears and anger in the night
One moment he felt as if he was soaring
Then his own heart he would fight

Full of light while the sun was out
Clouded with darkness when he saw the moon
Like his emotions were wandering about
Lost and ready to collapse soon

Tonight the moon was full
And the darkness was heavy
He would fight and pull
Until death asked if he was ready

He refused to cry
But the light wouldn’t appear
Made this his last goodbye
And finally he would disappear

Submit your POEM to the Poetry Festival: http://www.festivalforpoetry.com

WATCH POETRY READINGS (see what we can do when you submit):

WATCH POETRY MOVIES (see what we can do when you submit):

LOVE’S REALITY, Poetry by Jonell Kirby Cash

My Love wrote me a poem:

“I’ve had you in my life…

Five thousand days and more,

You’ve been a loving wife”

Genre: Love, Rhyme, Relationship

LOVE’S REALITY
by Jonell Kirby Cash

My Love wrote me a poem:

“I’ve had you in my life…

Five thousand days and more,

You’ve been a loving wife”

What more can I wish for…

Five thousand days with you;

“You made my life joyful;

The happy times I knew”

***

Those days flew by—I didn’t know—

I’d be alone –I never knew;

Five thousand days –were not enough

“Our time was short…our days too few”

Submit your POEM to the Poetry Festival: http://www.festivalforpoetry.com

WATCH POETRY READINGS (see what we can do when you submit):

WATCH POETRY MOVIES (see what we can do when you submit):

Baby come home, Poetry by Mike Hill

In bed i wait for darling to come home

Wondering if he is alright or alone

I stare at the cling with tears in my eyes

Wondering if i could make alone another night

My darling is still gone and i want to here his voice

Genre: Love, Rhyme

Baby come home
by Mike Hill

Baby come home

In bed i wait for darling to come home

Wondering if he is alright or alone

I stare at the cling with tears in my eyes

Wondering if i could make alone another night

My darling is still gone and i want to here his voice

Its been a long time since we both made a choice.

He left in the morning and never came home

I waited and watched and stared at the door

Hoping to here his foot steps once more.

Submit your POEM to the Poetry Festival: http://www.festivalforpoetry.com

WATCH POETRY READINGS (see what we can do when you submit):

WATCH POETRY MOVIES (see what we can do when you submit):

Infatuation, Poetry by Anna Sue Benson

I am a skilled,
dedicated,
stalker.
When I can sneak out,
I walk across town,
over the river bridge,
creep up the one way street,
imagining the subject of my desire.

Genre: Dark, Horror

Infatuation
by Anna Sue Benson

I am a skilled,
dedicated,
stalker.
When I can sneak out,
I walk across town,
over the river bridge,
creep up the one way street,
imagining the subject of my desire.
One my way home
from work,
the grocery store,
running errands,
I drive by,
slowly.
I wonder
what the neighbors think
about my constant presence
on this quiet side-street.

This object of my desire,
this house,
is mine.
Mine in an unexplainable,
not of this world,
kind of way.
It’s perched up on a hill,
surrounded by trees,
vacant for years,
slowly succumbing to decay and neglect.
I peek in the windows,
see that a remodeling project
has been left unfinished,
building materials long untouched.
The pull this house has on me
is palpable.
I feel,
wholeheartedly feel,
like I should walk up those steps
and through the front door.
It’s my house.
The house makes me believe
the padlocks on the doors,
the deed in someone’s else’s name,
are irrelevant.
I want to,
I need to,
step foot in that house
feel its energy.

I’ve found out everything
I could possibly research.
Built in 1910,
changed hands 19 times
in 40 years,
owned by a company
in Bakersfield, CA
that has no business
owning a house in these parts,
a company
who hasn’t paid the taxes
on my house
in two years.
I imagine,
writing them,
offering to pay the back taxes,
take the house off their hands.
If only I had the means,
to restore it
to the way it deserves to exist,
I would.

I have asked around,
learned all the local history.
People are afraid
of my house.
The land around it,
encircled by many known
Native American burial mounds.
People wonder
if any other burial mounds
were disrespected
in the building of that home,
wonder if there is some curse,
some bad energy
for what might have been done
to a sacred resting place.
Local urban legends
revolve around this house,
the woods around it.

I am undeterred.
I pace the woods behind my house,
pondering a way
I could get inside.
I feel uneasy
the closer I get
to my house.
Maybe it’s that I’m a rule-follower,
I know, from a legal standpoint,
I’m trespassing.
Surely the uneasy feeling
couldn’t be that something is wrong,
off about the property.
I don’t understand
how something so right
could be out of my grasp.
I can’t accept that.
The house
pulls me in.
I don’t know how,
but I can make this happen.
It will be mine.

Submit your POEM to the Poetry Festival: http://www.festivalforpoetry.com

WATCH POETRY READINGS (see what we can do when you submit):

WATCH POETRY MOVIES (see what we can do when you submit):