Climbing through the towers
Selfishness and guilt
Taking advantage of power
Racing up our own hills
It’s crazy how we all think
It’s crazy what makes us crave
Remember all that drown or sink
Forget not to save
People who’ve been broken
Selfless creating mourn
Ones who’ve been outspoken
Shredded ripped and torn
Uses for our own worth
Body flesh and bones
Not stopping to think who we hurt
Making it all our own
This world is ours or so it may
Trust and love overthrown
Masked influence through the days
It’s only what is shown
Thrown over our own towers
Selfishness and guilt
No more left for power
Do you know how we have felt?
* * * * *
Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to…
I had a dream.
I was walking down a street in downtown Harlem,
The stirring strains of jazz in my ear,
When I bumped into Martin Luther King, Jr.
It was drizzling and darkness had fallen
And I said: ‘Perhaps you could help me, sir.
You see, I’m looking for the Golden Man.’
King said, ‘What do you want them Orientals for, brother?
Say it loud – I’m Black and proud!’
I explained that the Golden Man has no particular colour;
He equates racism with ignorance and doesn’t bother
With petty prejudices, seeing humanity as one.
King said: ‘How long have you been searching, son?’
I said: ‘Quite some time now, more than a year.’
‘Have you ever heard about the “Conference of Birds”?’
‘Yes – some birds made an epic flight to see their God But when they reached Heaven, a…
Rain falls like terminal dodo birds liquefied by infinite speed,
gravity plunges one way, directional confusion of enveloping skins, wave upon wave etc…
Circular chitterings of gnomish crazy-eyed beaks,
quills loaded with thick black syrupy information encrypted into dazzling streaks of digital flight,
through iron pellets and streaking beams of displacing squareness that leave gaping holes in reverse images frozen with surprise.
Wetness brings cures for dryness, visions of self reflected in falling drops show the multitudes of one, bringing joy in wetness all things are covered,
old brains,
wear plastic yellow sheets that hum rain into piercing darts, splinters.
How did I think I could see the rain eye to eye without falling?
WATCH POETRY READINGS (see what we can do when you submit):
WATCH POETRY MOVIES (see what we can do when you submit):
There is no festival like this!
Mainly what this contest does is give exposure to the writer. They will be able to obtain a solid agent, plus get notice by producers looking for writers like yourself. NOTE: The writer will always own 100% rights to their poem. The only thing we do is help the writer gain exposure by having their story showcased at our festival and on this website.
POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film. 