Watch 2015, Poetry Movie by Gloria D. Gonsalves

Best Poetry of 2015 Runner Up.

Poetry by Gloria D. Gonsalves

Narrated by Steve Rizzo

Editing and Visual Design by Yujin Song

Produced by Matthew Toffolo

2015, Poetry Movie by Gloria D. Gonsalves

Best Poetry of 2015 Runner Up.

Poetry by Gloria D. Gonsalves

Narrated by Steve Rizzo

Editing and Visual Design by Yujin Song

Produced by Matthew Toffolo

Watch the 2015 Poetry Festival winner.

The 2015 Poetry Festival winner.

Poetry by Jane Gill-Wilson

Narrated by Steve Rizzo

Editing and Visual Design by Yujin Song

Produced by Matthew Toffolo

Paris – The Atrocity 13th November 2015 by Jane Gill-Wilson

The 2015 Poetry Festival winner.

Poetry by Jane Gill-Wilson

Narrated by Steve Rizzo

Editing and Visual Design by Yujin Song

Produced by Matthew Toffolo

2015 Poetry Winner – Jane Gill Wilson

The Poetry Festival is proud to announce its 2015 Poetry Winner.

They will now have their poem made into a film.

Paris – The Atrocity 13th November 2015 by Jane Gill Wilson

The Poetry Festival is proud to announce its 2015 Poetry Winner.

They will now have their poem made into a film.

Paris – The Atrocity 13th November 2015 by Jane Gill-Wilson

Gunfire out of nowhere
Bullets ricochet,
Blood shed in the city
On another Parisian day.
Eyes closed in anguish
As the shocking events unfold,
There is no rhyme or reason
As evil takes control.

Armed with Kalashnikov’s
On their killing spree,
Intent on ending life
As victims start to flee.
Mayhem in the city
Bodies on the ground,
Echoing explosion
Causing carnage all around.

The unfolding horror
An onslaught of war,
Is a crime against humanity
One the world abhors.
A nation now in mourning
Struggles to comprehend,
How lives were extinguished
Brought callously to an end.

Holding hands together
United we must stand,
To eradicate the evil
Infiltrating our land.
Drastic measures needed
As time is running out,
The future of our children
Should not be left in doubt.

©Jane Gill-Wilson 2015

Watch the Poem performed by actress Maya Wolosyzn:

2015 Poetry Contest Finalists

Read the finalists for the 2015 Poetry Contest. Poets were asked to write a poem about 2015 or something that occurred in 2015.

The winning poem will be made into a movie. Winner announced on January 31st.

Read the finalists for the 2015 Poetry Contest. Poets were asked to write a poem about 2015 or something that occurred in 2015.

The winning poem will be made into a movie. Winner announced on January 31st.

Read the 7 poetry finalists:

PARIS – THE ATROCITY 13th November 2015 by Jane-Gill Wilson
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/21/paris-the-atrocity-13th-november-2015-poetry-reading-by-jane-gill-wilson-read-by-maya-wolosyzn/

2015 by Adrian DeBarros
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/01/2015-poetry-by-adrian-debarros/

2015 by Dawdu M.Amantanah
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/01/2015-poetry-by-dawdu-m-amantanah/

2015, by Gloria D. Gonsalves
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2015/12/28/2015-poetry-by-gloria-d-gonsalves/

Never to old for Love (2015 Poem) by Colin Guest
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2015/12/28/never-to-old-for-love-2015-poem-poetry-by-colin-guest/

2015, by Danny Karl Fleming
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2015/12/28/2015-poetry-by-danny-karl-fleming/

Star Strider by Tricia Wagner
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2015/12/28/star-strider-poetry-by-tricia-wagner/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nothing Wilts, Poetry by Caiubi Maranho

Nothing wilts The proof of
damage The meeting of our
will The meaning The almost
taste It is our most prized
possession Where do we live
our dreams This is where the

Genre: Romance

Nothing Wilts
by Caiubi Maranho

Nothing wilts The proof of
damage The meeting of our
will The meaning The almost
taste It is our most prized
possession Where do we live
our dreams This is where the
completed And are The
distracted eyes looking in silence
we confirm be clean
Then be sad Then be eternal
For one day tear surrender
The voice in unissom design
” I love you” Just then leaves
flourish Monsoon wait certainties
wasted Honesties the road
Until his call Prosperity
renewing See the two
in the future Together Treasure
that old souls keep to be
reborn every day
For a two day be a
At the age of heaven
And honor the big night
And generation after generation
Waiting to hope
A love that makes sense

* * * * *

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Paris – The Atrocity 13th November 2015, Poetry by Jane Gill-Wilson

Gunfire out of nowhere
Bullets ricochet,
Blood shed in the city
On another Parisian day.

Genre: RHYME… Terrorism, Life, Fear, Sadness, Real, Death, Hurt, Religion.

Paris – The Atrocity
13th November 2015
by Jane Gill-Wilson

Gunfire out of nowhere
Bullets ricochet,
Blood shed in the city
On another Parisian day.
Eyes closed in anguish
As the shocking events unfold,
There is no rhyme or reason
As evil takes control.

Armed with Kalashnikov’s
On their killing spree,
Intent on ending life
As victims start to flee.
Mayhem in the city
Bodies on the ground,
Echoing explosion
Causing carnage all around.

The unfolding horror
An onslaught of war,
Is a crime against humanity
One the world abhors.
A nation now in mourning
Struggles to comprehend,
How lives were extinguished
Brought callously to an end.

Holding hands together
United we must stand,
To eradicate the evil
Infiltrating our land.
Drastic measures needed
As time is running out,
The future of our children
Should not be left in doubt.

©Jane Gill-Wilson 2015

 

* * * * *

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2015, Poetry by Dawdu M.Amantanah

We all slid into 2015
On the tremulous wave of last year
Surfing past years
In Jeremy Clarkson built time machines
Mercury chats to the stars in the dim light of retrograde moonwalking super moons
Awakened by the force of stars

Genres: politics,love,inspiration,revolution,science,society,death,rhyme and popular culture

2015
by Dawdu M.Amantanah

{Poetic Culmination}

We all slid into 2015
On the tremulous wave of last year
Surfing past years
In Jeremy Clarkson built time machines
Mercury chats to the stars in the dim light of retrograde moonwalking super moons
Awakened by the force of stars
Women walk below them embracing the sparkle like diamonds
Wearing dresses we can’t quite determine the color
Was blue the hue?
Most say glistening gold
No it must be purple
We all need to hold hands
Singing hymn’s praying in circle’s
Cause the mass shootings and police brutality
Birthed looting and revolution
And the pain of the slain
Drips like sewage in the ghetto’s all across the world
with no one sticking around long enough to pay attention
Hilary Clinton’s personal emails got more attention
While rockets are launched into orbit chewed on like gum by the atmosphere
And salvaged like precious metal
What a 2015 we had
Closer to Mars we are
Rest in Peace
Tamir Rice
Sandra Bland
Laquan Mcdonald
And the hundreds
Unnamed that were slain
I pray the cease of 54 years of limited cargo
Breaks the embargo between American and Cuba
I got 8 quarters in my pocket
Gas is under two bucks
What luck!
The blizzard of 2015 broke records even the abominable snowman gave up
This is just a poem
As the world jot’s down
Two thousand and fifteen ways to evolve
Yet each year we have more to solve

* * * * *

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2015, Poetry by Adrian DeBarros

Deflategate:

Goodell likes his woman’s ass flat, like a crepe,
ok not that flat, more like a pan-cake.
When he saw those footballs
in the AFC championship, it drove his jealousy up the wall.

2015
by Adrian DeBarros

Deflategate:

Goodell likes his woman’s ass flat, like a crepe,
ok not that flat, more like a pan-cake.
When he saw those footballs
in the AFC championship, it drove his jealousy up the wall.

Brian Williams:

Gave little white lies,
while staring at you with his pearly white eyes,
he said he was in a chopper,
he meant in the kitchen – onion chopper.

Super Bowl XLIX:

Rumplestillskin made straw into gold with a pact of first born line,
Russell Wilson made everyone’s jaw drop on that one yard line.
Ticking time and a ball thrown on a skewed line.
Lockette was locked – knocked aside on a whim
and Malcolm in the middle was back at it again.
Brady and the bunch made lunch,
Seahawks were hungry,
but the Patriots beat them to the punch.

Ferguson, MO:

Could’ve waited for backup,
instead,
bullets flew and Wilson backed up.
A painful state resides in Truman’s birth state.
Bess lived longer than her mate,
nearly one hundred years – Someone bless their state.
Sweet are Missouri peaches,
Whiskey Sour and Missouri teaches.
Ferguson, Independence, and Lamar,
all have their stories, near and afar.
The Arm of the law no longer reaches, instead,
bullets fling in its drawn out speeches….

Hong Kong Breast Attack:

Cop was real, Cop was for real,
he wanted to know if they were real,
so he cop’d a feel…
Judge asked for reel,
on a tape, her bloody nose was for real.
That’s all there was before the deal was sealed.
Lady didn’t give her consent,
Cop said an attack was her intent,
Cop cried nipple dent,
So three months in jail she spent.
That’s longer than Lent, I hope that Cop doesn’t make rent.
Loses all he has and doesn’t even sleep in a tent.
This Cop’s obviously not a gent…
I hope he wasn’t breast-fed,
he doesn’t understand – nipples are infant’s bread.
and not something to assault you or make you dead.

Instagram banned the word curvy:

Instagram, instagram, where do I place my pict-o-gram?
in-a-van, on-some-sand, next to a skinny man?
better yet, weightless – next to a-moon-man.
Discriminate against women’s weight?
solve the debate, take strides with a healthy gate.
Push open up the curvy gates.
You take em on a date, give em a diuretic,
hopefully they piss on you – water weigh-it
they’ll still look good even if they don’t shed-it.
You can’t even speak on the topic, so you can’t visually TED-it!
Ironic a Facebook turns face and snaps a photo-sharing app with 1 billion faces,
iconic curvy looks hashtagged with curvy hooks,
seemed to be your disgraces, so you removed them faces…
They’ll still be gorgeous, curvy, while marketing pays a moral-fee,
women curvy in floral bikiNis, hashtagging #Curvee
Women think about their bodies everyday,
at least one thought sad, one bad, all because of visual fads.
dammit I’m mad, a ban on curvy shouldn’t make you glad.
Women genetically have curvy parts,
we know you think the world is flat and you’ve lost your smarts!
Instagram has gone topsy turvy
becoming a big dummy, and afraid to say curvy.
Funny how your instagram logo has all curvy letters,
without curves you wouldn’t even get IT​.
You really should revolve around the issue a bit more better.
Weigh more than a gram?
then you have no fans in a curvy band on instagram,
cuz curvy is banned, doesn’t matter if you’re woman or man.
You censor cuz your moderators really aren’t sure,
they can’t tell the difference between a naked Pauly Shore and a curvy Demi Moore!

* * * * *

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Star Strider, Poetry by Tricia Wagner

North of nowhere,

stars advance,

firestorms of other worlds,

they rage,

and we are lost in them.

Star Strider
by Tricia Wagner

A tribute to New Horizons and the dawning of Pluto on the eyes of humankind

North of nowhere,

stars advance,

firestorms of other worlds,

they rage,

and we are lost in them.

Starsong shivers from invisible peaks,

capped with coal clouds

obliterated in the black belly of an absent sun.

Rafters holding starborn choruses and bells

are grazed by the golden notice of snowy owls,

touched just by wingtips,

soaring,

lost in the wilds of flying through the winds of many suns.

Star wings shade your reddened cheeks with blue,

weaken knees that bend to touch the arc of the Earth

in exaltation.

An angel flies; a star,

and you are lost.

Disintegration.

Time and motion sweep memories from your soul

and take away the sky.

A moment of clarity.

A rising round of ice and dust,

and you are found,

someplace.

Kneeling in the mist that hangs across the heavy moon,

blanching with the cold of creeping night,

we watch for sylphs too old to bear a name.

Tendrils of foreign atmospheres curl over each shoulder,

the weight of the universe bolstered by your frame,

a mind thinking,

laden with questions

and dreams,

seeking for the reach of another,

some mind ascending, crossing distant, dusky seas,

to cry an answer to the question posed

of whether or not to be.

Chins uplift.

Mouths unlatch,

gaping to swallow; to speak,

or to breathe,

if breathing comes

by vapor pressed from swollen cheeks

of cosmic clouds,

leaching metals and fire and smoke

into your lungs.

Clear oxygen resolves inside of spaces

separating bodies,

the elemental thoughts of other minds.

Today we are unsure what light conceals,

bright matches striking fires from the past

and from the greatest fields;

a meteor skimming surfaces,

plunging through intangible mediums

full of liquid emptiness and nothing.

You, standing on the tip of Earth.

All of time has come to this.

The hammer strikes of molten stone;

the shuttering of rocks into churning waters;

the rumbling of the Earth through space,

rolling; unridden;

solitary in the many moments stars were spinning.

Will there be an ear to hear?

Can a starstrike have a voice;

a nighttime, an anthem?

The greatest dreams compound:

the densities of neutron stars.

Newtonian physics is one thing,

but a legend spoken out of dark energy and solar flares is another.

The gentleness that slips through grasses

pushing at our feet,

striding lost in avenues of space,

these are chemical memories;

the sighted sharp and black unknown.

One star, so bright,

speaking in a language we have never understood,

the rhythm of a wheeling world,

vacant, maybe,

is constant.

The song of the galactic poet, though,

is aberrant; asymmetry; strange.

Akin to the soul encased inside a human skull.

The Earth, sweeping debris,

wearing crowns of miasmic stars,

rolls around the iron sun.

Before our eyes,

stars fall.

Lost in the deeps of countries unfathomable,

except by stretches of unmeasured time,

a heart contracts on a white landscape,

crimsoned by alien ore and dimpled by pocks of vapored ice.

It simmers in all desolation

beneath an indigo shell,

an echo of Earth trees, breathing.

Colors streak through places that were absent.

Flukes curl over one horizon, sinking through shores of snow

into we know not what submersion.

There is no east and no west to mark the course of the flag-runner,

rushing past,

or screaming past, had it a mouth.

But eyes it has,

and a memory,

and telepathy.

Minute by minute,

electric signals tremble back to Earth;

impressions of the passageways through many worlds.

Water worlds.

Winged worlds.

Worlds of aether.

Worlds of gemstones.

Presence… declension… arrival

scatters on the pages before bespectacled souls, vigilant.

The destination? Forever.

***THE END***

* * * * *

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2015, Poetry by Danny Karl Fleming

2015, by Danny Karl Fleming

The Kansas City Royals won this year.
The Warriors also won their game this time.
Chicago Blackhawks captured on the sphere.
The movie Birdman conquered summertime.

New England thwarted football, tops this day.
Musicians Grande, Swift, Adele, are stars
With Gomez, Bieber, Carey here today.
The Martian hits the screen; the planet Mars

Has water, Pluto photographed up close.
Much trouble in Paris, Ukraine, San B,
And Isis strikes. It was a year of gross
Events, but acute hope and bravery

Can bring success. It never works to make
The happenings become a bellyache.

Genre: Rhyme, Hope, Motivational

* * * * *

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