2016 Poetry Winner

A trace of dreams, by Dora Marii is the 2016 POETRY contest winner. This poem will now be made into a movie. 

WATCH the Poetry Reading: 

A trace of dreams
© Jan. 9th, 2017 Dora Marii

Let’s see… what did twenty-sixteen
Have in store for me?
This plane of existence caught your attention
There’s massive need for intervention

Dreams keep coming want to get real,
In the sleepless nights, that’s how they feel
January stirred the fantasy so bad
Got you twistin’ turning in your bed

“Joy of my Soul! I feel such consolation
In you – by You!” Soulmate’s incantation
Woke you up, you’ve felt the Love
He’s been offering from above.

“Let’s do something, let’s meet”,
You’ve heard the Calling so sweet,
“I love you” was the shy rebound,
Putting light around like a gown.

What shall I do? Seeking for guidance
See him worried about the encounter,
“I’d better stop, I’ve been drinking!”
“Look after yourself”- you’ve been thinking.

Until you made your mind an Obeyer
Of the higher Soul mind’s, a prayer,
All thoughts vanished in a vroom
And so peaceful was your morning room!


Little Girl Lost – Diana Princess of Wales, Poetry Reading by Patricia Poulos

Poetry performed by Val Cole

Get to know the poet:

What is the theme of your poem?

Sadness and loss

What motivated you to write this poem?

The death of the Princess Diana

How long have you been writing poetry?

I commenced in about 1970.

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

Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

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

I wished to share the life of one lost to the world

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

I have written 4 non-fiction books, a number of short stories, I have written, produced and edited the “Profiler” magazine, five feature scripts and one short.

What is your passion in life?

To do all I can to prevent suffering and starvation of the populace (including animals) and protect children.

Fontanelle, Poetry by David Leo Sirois

Genre: Rhyme, Life



Clocks have been stripped from all walls

as well as all forgotten gods

in an orchestrated effort to disorient us all


in the cylindrical silver corridor where time abides

in its own loneliness almost absent at this time


Even the eyes of my eyes cannot trace

how long it has lasted & how far it will stretch its

long thin limbs It is not available for questioning at this time


At this time we cannot say or guess

the trajectory of flashes on/off

to open wide eyelids & shut them down again


The space between seconds is

interminable unbearable at times & the length of

my spine immeasurable this moment


The crown of my head quietly lifting off

of its own volition


Fragile circle of my fontanelle The point of gentle

pressure from below The tiniest bit of dust is

all I am capable of carrying at times


My questions sing in an unbroken flow of

legato notes a melody of urgency

toward a certain yet forever unexpected end


The rest is silence he said & let go of his breath



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Gone, Poetry by minusthecynic

Genre: Religion, Inspirational

Goodbye opportunity to set the record straight 
Farwell comfortable silences , whispered and screamed love songs to Jesus in attempts to beat the 
summer heat 
Long dreary days 
Tear stained eyes 
Hard to deal with attitudes and personalities larger than life 
Differences of opinion, divergent paths we walk on 
Yet there is love between us buried amidst this madness 
And that’s why it aches so much inside my heart 
Cos there is no turning back the hands of time 
I will never get that period back again 
When I could have filled in the blanks 
Told you all those things you didn’t know about me 
I don’t think I ever will 
Even if I get the chance 
Cos there are some things you are better off not knowing 
Even if problems become halved when we distribute them out amongst your blood and flesh 
Why would I want to make your life more difficult by struggling to summon up the love required 
In response to my situation 
I’d rather not make your life a simulation of a living hell 
Far better for you to continue on with your life in happy smiling ignorant bliss 
Than to possess the knowledge that your own kindred has done something dreadful 
Trespassed upon the unthinkable boundary 
Crossing the threshold into the dark realm of undiscovered country that should have remained 
Unkempt and free of exploration by absolutely anyone 
My soul was cannibalized and colonized like a colon cancer 
And I do not possess the answer within me 
As to why I would allow my mind to become deceived in this way 
Yet that is the biggest reason why our time has been thieved so rapidly 
Why I find myself desperately rushing my words hoping to create some semblance of normality 
In the way the two of us relate 
Even if you think my mentality is out of date 
You never said as much to my sweet and sour indulging face 
You never completely gave up on me 
As I did you 
Dismissing your very existence 
Shunning you like the pilgrims once did 
As if that would bring your eyes any closer to heaven 
And pull you any further away from a hellish future 
Oh so scornful am I of the way you live your life 
Yet when faced with temptation I cave I crumble just as you once did 
So who am I the high and mighty one fallen off his haughty Clydesdale 
Regaling you with mystic charm the bale of hay wailing in your arms 
Is it a more dangerous thing to possess 
Arms if you be an amputee or just like me limbed and reckless 
What if everything we once loved and cherished about the way we relate to each other 
Has disappeared forever beyond the horizon’s vanishing point 
You are far more charitable towards me in your thoughts than I ever was to you 
And I wonder why I deserve such grace when all I ever do is spit in your face 
Just treat you with contempt and act like I’m exempt from responding to kindness  
With something other than cruelty and disdain 
Some other mood than irate closed off disregard for human life 
Leaving you alone to do your own thing 
While I tread down my path, aloof head in the clouds 
Can I be any more like Jesus I ask myself 
Can I start over , act as if the preceding weeks had not been a challenge 
To keep the nightmares bursting out my head 
To draw you deeper in my dark callous net 
If only I could perfectly reflect 
The love I aim to emulate Jehovah gives me 
If I had but the will and strength inside me 
To overcome my straying towards worldliness 
What I am really angry about 
More than anything else in the world 
Is mostly myself 
For allowing all these hours to slip through my fingers 
Was it fear of confrontation 
Funny that I didn’t have a problem with starting controversy 
Courting it as if I was its betrothed bride 
And yet in the heat of the moment look at me 
See how I shrink away inside myself  
When provided with the chance to stand up for righteousness 
Not wanting to humiliate or cause pain to my fellow womb room sharer 
Desiring anything but to push you away into the shadowlands 
I have dabbled with the darkness for far too long 
That’s why I’m trying to protect you from its encroaching cloaking devices 
I don’t know how to disagree with you and keep things amicable between us 
It seems like my words just wound when I want them to heal and soothe 
I need the Lord to take control of my mouth and set a guard on my lips 
Transform my mind so I can deal with the challenge of preserving it from wickedness 
Can we have a get together without going over the same old familiar topical territory 
Must our home always be the location for verbal sparring 
What is the point or purpose to our endless warring 
Isn’t this supposed to be a time of generous spirits 
Are we not called to love one another and bring peace, joy and love to the world 
How can we do that if it doesn’t exist within our own home 
We are divided amongst ourselves when we should be a united front 
Us against the universe 
Or at the very least being used as a catalyst 
To bring this galaxy in submission to Jehovah 
Convince souls to bow the knee willingly before we are coerced and compelled by blazing fiery eyes 
I remember a time when we possessed far more similar looking minds 
When His power and His glory was our enduring passion 
Before the fashions of society dictated our response to His gospel truth 
Before the rules of some countries lorded it over our willingness to live out our faith 
When it contradicts the popular opinion of the day 
Did we forget sin is as old as time 
It goes back to the most perfect garden that ever lived and breathed 
Why are we so surprised that evil and poverty still exist in the world 
It is not because of our deeds always that sickness occurs within us 
Though diet and exercise has a lot to do with it 
Both its presence and its absence 
Some starve themselves for the sake of affection 
Yet find a greater affection in starvation than the arms of an angel formed in human shape 
Time is a precious commodity we have in short supply 
I watch it fly on by like butterflies out the window 
I don’t attempt to catch it just let it drift on , go 
Above those maddening crowds and saddening clouds 
Putting a dampener on my swimming at the beach plans on Christmas day 
Not that it matters if a tradition is upheld 
If it gets in the way from our view of the cross 
And the cradle of a manger where our sweet saviour once lay 
The focus of our attention should be drawn to Him always 
How to deal with what I feel 
When our saviour is gone from this earth 
But not from our hearts 
I have to keep on believing and telling myself 
That He still lives in you no matter how far you appear to drift from Him in your ideology 
You still claim to know Him you still cling to His love desperately 
Like a drowning man sinking in the sea of seemingly limitless possibilities 
We have far too many options   these days of what to believe in 
Yet God’s truth stands alone in its uniqueness 
The only God who ever claimed to be the truth itself 
The only God who ever gave His life to save the world 
To save it from the damage 
Swords it drew into itself thrusting madly 
Like a wolf not seeing the frozen knife in the ice hole 
Dipped in the blood of seals 
In frenzy piercing itself with furious illogic 
We cause ourselves harm when we drift from His arms 
When we try to make our own godling 
When we ascribe His goodness to ourselves and our badness to His mindset 
Yet our sins do not fully describe all that we are 
We are not them though they may belong to us alone 
We are so much more than meets the eye 
And yet we judge each other based only upon what is revealed by glancing at our surfaces 
Do we not see 
The hands of heaven working behind the scenes 
To pull us closer to salvation’s kingdom 
Do we not hear 
The voice of trumpets calling us 
From beyond the grave like mental state of selfishness 
Into a holy state of being absorbed wholly in Him  
The conflict of humanity remains 
Ever unresolved til the return of Christ 
There is so much left unsaid 
For fear of upsetting the delicate balance between us 
So many of our feelings we kept locked up within the cavern bound cupboards of our soul 
For the sake of dodging sniping bullets of sarcastic wit and plastic versions of authentic expression 
The seasonal smiles of presumption on the part of the customers to always remain correct 
The urge to uphold tradition to provide a home of hospitality and create a welcoming atmosphere 
The dear and tender moments , once cherished long since neglected 
Those activities we once indulged in that lit a flame of tenderness within our youthful hearts 
Like washing lines of Christmas cards and oversized socks only suitable for gargantuan feet 
Barely recalled snowmen with carrot stick noses and coal button eyes 
Scarves wrapped around their necks and somebody’s hat probably dad’s laid atop its crumbling mug 
Drinking warm cups of cocoa and egg nog so often anyone would think they were our drug 
Cutting off a slice of a life we left behind in the foggy wintry past 
As bits and pieces of your language become transformed , mangled and tangled 
When learning a new tongue forces you to deteriorate in knowledge of your own 
As your way of relating to the world alters and you seem to grow yourself a second skin 
The casual lackadaisical attitude we grew up with appears forced unwelcome in your being 
Not sitting comfortably with the prim and proper strict and punctual manner of behaviour 
You have grown accustomed to in later years 
My teardrops fall for the passionate crusader you once were 
For the negotiations and compromises you made within yourself 
Decisions you might argue you were forced to make by necessity 
Not choosing who you love or willing to lose an argument in order to maintain a lasting friendship 
Possibly unaware of the pressure you exert upon blood flowing unrestricted through his pores 
I know it’s about more than settling old scores for you 
Why are you endlessly attempting to bring us all round to your point of view 
Can’t you just let the matter rest 
Let it die with the dodos 
I know it is a tragedy that we should just lock up this topic and 
Leave it as just one of many things we are not long allowed to talk about 
For fear of treading on sensitive toes 
But better that scenario than this cold war exerting all the strength 
Exhausting all the love, suffocating any compassion between us 
Why must we always be forced to take sides 
Can’t we talk about something anymore that doesn’t result in volcanoes of hot fury 
Erupting suddenly when wires get crossed and confusion thrives 
Our sweet honey hive was never meant 
To harbour such disillusionment 
We shouldn’t have to play pretend 
To mend our shattered chain of hearts  




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Ophelia; from Isolation to Desolation, Poetry by Bicky Saikia

Genre: Minimalism

Shredded heart bleeds blue
high and isolated
she is her own muse.
Sinking in whisky 
headed up to desolation,
betrayed yet easy to wield,
standing next to misery.

She is ophelia
Belongs to a forbidden town.
a victim and stressed lover,
stumbled and floundered 
innocence died with her virgin blood
youth is now aged bride 
exaggerate some wailing groove.

Sings and weeps
scars and tattoos shine 
her unadorned and blazed ancient beauty 
ushers to vanity and delusions 
She slept with a dethroned prince
kiss and undress that ample girl
tried to be faded by singing celtic song
accused by unforgiven deeds of others 
from isolation ophelia headed upto desolation.



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spiritual cold war, Poetry by David Steven Twist

Genre: Political, Satire

I’ve tried to invoke a spiritual counter measure to Coke Cola stealing a saint as a brand  ambassador by resurrecting the spirit of Edgar Alan Poe to fight the fizzy drink

 The Rix
The Rix rapped rapidly ready and ravishly.
Eying the Red Man bound on his
His belly a tremor his voice lost its tenor; as he pleaded Dilemma and freedom
His cry through the night – space and through light ; to Heaven with might Hark
Michael with lore.

The Rix raggered wrong rancorous song.
A Mellifluous melody, madness and mel’choly Through hearts souls mind for ever
(Meaghar my friend your sword please amend; this tragedy scene I must deplore!)

The Cellar went bright manifest light –
Righteous at height Rix wroggled as right Michael did smite the
shadow before!
The Green Man stood loud ,sonorous and proud; His bondage in buddles on the

Be free child’s friend as time you bend For Earths Hearths are waiting in store.

Peace and love in the light
good night




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Little Girl Lost, Poetry by Patricia Poulos

Genre: Death, Family, Hope, Hurt, Inspirational, Love,  Painful, Philosophical,  Relationships, Sad,

Little Girl Lost
Diana – Princess of Wales
Patricia Poulos


She was shy

But beneath that ‘little girl’ exterior

she was strong

She was only nineteen

She did not know how to react

to worldly situations which

involved her heart

She had not the experience

of older women

Nor the manner

in dealing with the experiences

she would encounter

as a married woman

The Fairy-tale Princess

She could not have envisaged

the torment she would suffer

Her father departed

The only person

upon whom to rely

for every aspect of her being

would share his affections

with another

She would have no one

to help carry her load

Yet the other had two

men to satisfy her desires

She had

nowhere to turn


like a small animal in a cage

held high

for all to see

She was so young

She could not have seen

the murkiness of the waters

which would eventually engulf her

Waters in which

she would eventually drown

There is no precedent of decorum

for those

whose hearts have been shattered

No right nor wrong written

to guide the broken hearted

Just a stumble and fall

with no one to hold

Only the lesson

after the act

All too late

She was vulnerable

The weight of her burden

caused her to hold

onto any attention given

She would be


again and again

Coerced into telling

… if more people knew

the burden would ease

But the children

would be left

with the burden of life

without her

The kiss and tell lover

revealed the intimacy of her trust

Now everyone knew

their inner-most secrets

Once released

the burden grew

An uncontrollable monster

which cannot be re-caged

A dictator

which commands response

She was left naked

Her soul was bared

The lessons were being learned

All would sympathize

But sympathy is hollow

it contains no substance

it provides no sustenance

The whole world knows

the shame has now spread

But this was not the intent

She knew not

what next to do

She craved for the promises made

Not to be kept

The Fairy-tale end

was not so to be

Then God

took pity

on this Little girl lost

and took her to Him

Perhaps now in death

she will end the tale

and live
Happily Ever After.



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Sunday Blues, Poetry by Barbara D.M.

Genre: Melancholy

Title: Sunday Blues 
Sunday blues
calling her name
She sat there empty,
time slipping away
Galaxies in her eyes
Cups stained with her lips
Shadows across the room
Aching bones
Smudged lines down her face,
thinking of better days
-Barbara D.M.



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Year 2016 Poetry Contest (Winner gets poem made into film)

Deadline January 15th. Submit a poem that’s about the YEAR 2016 and get it made into a movie. 

Accepting any poetry in any genre or length that’s about YEAR 2016 in any way.

All poems will be posted on this network. Over 95,000 unique visitors a day. The winning poem will have their poetry made into a movie. SPECIAL NOTE: Every single entry will get their poetry performed by a professional actor and made into a video.

The RULES are simple:

1. Write a POEM that’s about the  YEAR 2016. Send it to this contest for $20 and it will be POSTED on this site guaranteed for 100,000s to see. Plus, every entry will get their poetry performed at the festival and made into a video. (you own all rights to this poem and whenever you want it taken down, send us an email).

2. Email your POEM to submission@festivalforpoetry.com in .pdf, .doc, .wpd, .rtf, or .fdr format or just cut and paste it into the body of the email.

3. SUBMIT as many poems as you like. One fee per poem entry.

4. The poem can be anything about the YEAR 2016. An event/situation about the YEAR 2016 in general. Any topic from optimism, tragedy, to politics.

5. PAY THE $20 SUBMISSION FEE. Guaranteed post on this network. Results to be emailed by January 20th.

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A baleful banishment, Poetry by Sujoy Bhattacharya

Genre: Life

Placid calmness was patting her supple hands on my
fetid forehead to mitigate my mental moroseness .
My eyes weary were ailing for a dream- fed slumber .
A pair of butterflies in a copulating posture flying happily
to remind me the existence of happiness in my vicinity .
By the side of a flowing brook robed in with the velvety
attire of desolate serenity , not contaminated with the
frenzied din and bustle of morbid humanity ,I was retiring !
I was retired tired of wading through stubborn deluge of woes !
Woes that I invited in my life to feast on the residue of cinders
Cinders I loved once to scatter over the barrenness of discomfiture .
Hostile waves of defeats did not allow me to taste the sauce of victory .
The soul of Hitler appeared abruptly to gossip with my garrulous mind .
From behind the grey clouds effigy of burnt spirits frowned at me fiercely .
A dinosaur from the remote ice age frightened away Hitler to hades again .
The pioneer polestar waved her braid to foster me to carry on my choir .
Caesar the great , came to quench his thirst at the bank of the brook ,
fatigued and frightened to count the clones of the contemporary Brutus !
Socrates came coughing , holding the cup that contains his molten death , hemlock !
I prostrated at her feet to wash with the tears of Roman atonement , dew of homage !
Mona Lisa came dancing depicting a diagram of dreadful interrogation menacing –
I forgot to note the password to unlock the mystery of tears -laughter entwinement .
Something was being pelted into the placid brook to create tremendous turmoil .
I cast my inquisitive look to find king Midas on a pile of gold cubes, was immersing his avarice .
A bevies of beautiful elves were blowing conks at the Zenith to welcome white pigeons l
I closed my tormented eyes to hem it with the enigmatic sleep of profound amnesiac oblivion !
My deafened ears can no more hear the bewailing of lamenting souls captive in anabiosis .
Fettered feet limping on the paleographic arena for deciphering new definition of humanity .
My mind can take exile to a !and where stinking smell of burning mankind can’t reach .
But my petrified body motionless can’t even crawl to the grave of death to exhilarate life .



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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:

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