Read Poetry: 25, by Clen Nyambose

Genre:  forgiveness ,coming of age

25
Means I have survived a lot
Saw daylight in a solar eclipse
I am learning to breathe again
A love affair with the lungs
Where inhale is ecstasy and exhale is torture
The is no more room in forgetting
I have buried too many skeletons in here
So much so that they outweigh the living

\25
Should feel like a new begging
Like painting footsteps on landscapes
This is where the mind escapes
Hope is clutching on to your loved ounce’s hands like forever
But forever is planted in our memories and it doesn’t always bear roots
It sees what we see, loves who we have loved
And like us it mourns when their gone

25
Is acknowledging the living
Sometimes this also means forgiving does that our gone
“Dad I know that you’re gone, but am not yet at the point of forgiving’’
16 I was angry
20 I tried forgetting
But 25 seems to be the hardest
This is me learning to survive within myself
A battle ground between the mind and heart
I am rooted to this centre of gravity
Where the only anchor that seems to hold me down is family

25
Is a mystery
A domestic domicile of wizardry
Where fruition of one’s future is alchemy
I look to the stars trying to plot destiny
So I fish hook the world and bate it with poetry
But words seems to be my only provision for the mourning
A meal that consumes me hole heartedly
Maybe am an oddesy, no maybe am an artist
See what the world has left of me?

25
Is a dream at the edge of a nightmare begging me to jump in?
A myth of what a person is suppose be
A lapricon at the end of a rainbow
It’s digging yourself out of a grave
And willing yourself to fight
To live
Every breather is an act of defiance
The is a revolution brewing in our tongues
We are learning to untie ourselves from our bonds
To shed our masks and be ourselves
To love ourselves
To love myself
It’s knowing that life demands that we look beyond ourselves
That I am my brother keeper and loving each other demands that we dig deep

Read Poetry: The Words I Spoke, by Jordan Corley

Genre: Love, Hope, Life

I waited patiently for the world to follow
To adjust
To reset
And comprehend what I had just said
I gave myself the same courtesy
A minute
A day
Maybe two to process their meaning
They weren’t anything special
Nothing spectacular
Nothing memorable
The words that left my mouth
But something felt right
A click
An acknowledgment that maybe
just maybe I was meant to say them
They were meant to be heard
I waited silently for the world to follow
To stop spinning for a second
For just one moment
As I let the words leave my lips
Free my tongue of their grasp
Their power which clung to my thoughts
Through sleep– no sleep
What is sleep when these words are present?
In my thoughts
Always
Through daylight
And menial tasks so often required
To sustain life in this world
To feign sanity
Wrought by a wavering focus
They were nothing to be remembered
Really
Anything but important
To the outside observer
To a distant onlooker
But perhaps that’s why I remembered
The way they felt as I spoke
Why I recited the time
The place
The date of which I said them
Over and over
And over again
In my head
The breath that came before and after
I opened my mouth
The pause between each word
Each syllable
To ensure perfect deliverance
Perhaps that’s why they’ve stuck with me all these months
All these years
Later
They were honest
The last words I said to you

Read Poem by Oceana

Genres : love, hurt, revenge, spiritual, philosophical

No Right

You have no right to ask how I am
And no right to an answer
No right even to the thought occuring
Or the breath that bore it
That breathed our moment
In vengeful violence
Spitting and seething spite
In dark deluded condemnation
Of everything you claimed once right.

You have no right to the friendship
That you beat up
And threatened death to the life that bore it
But unabashed and unforgiven
You assume it
Say you don’t need forgiving
He was due it
You’re the master and there’s no chance
He could ever do it.

You have no right to claim regret
No right to say you are sorry
When to every other face is a different story
Where malice remains the prince amonst principalities
And you justify revenge with vivid stories
With you as the chosen one
With you enlightened and not undone.

You have no right to claim to see the truth
Or to be it’s living example
To uphold yourself as one of the few
Yet in the face of everything
This is what you do.
To god and yourself you must justify
Delusion that you can’t deny
Only you can answer why
Only then you cannot lie.

FRUSTRATION – Poetry Reading by Patricia Marvin

Poem performed by Val Cole

 POETRY 7 questions:

1) What is the theme of your poem?

The injustice that are going on in the black community

2) What motivated you to write this poem?

Watching the nightly news and seeing not just black lives but those who seem to not have a voice; and the many innocent lives taken by the hands of the police and nothing bening done in the majority of the cases

3) How long have you been writing poetry?

I’ve been writing for about 12 years.

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

Maya Angelou

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

I wanted to see how it sounded being read by someone else.

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

Yes, I do. Many of my other poems are spiritually based works.

7) What is your passion in life?

Teaching students with disabilities. I’m a Special Education Teacher.

****

Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com

Director: Kierston Drier
Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne
Editor: John Johnson

Camera Operator: Mary Cox

 

Read Poetry: Part 1 The Lady of the Meadow, by Fiona Jamieson

Silence , silence , everywhere
Not even bird song in the air
In stillness does the river flow
Yet poppies on the breeze do blow
On meadows that do stretch before
Today, as in the days of yore
What horrors does this scene betray
Under sky of blue on summers day?
Somewhere, within a trench unseen
There is a very different scene
Where prayers in silent whisper said
Whilst hearts do beat with fear and dread
And now we see, Tom, Bill and Joe
Waiting for the sign to go
And somewhere, not too far away
Hearts do beat in same way
Tom holds the picture to his heart
Of his sweetheart, sad they are apart
His finger soft, does trace her cheek
As a single tear his face does streak
A stolen glance, Bill scours the line
‘Do eyes betray their fear like mine”?
The whistle shrills, the hearts do race
And now beat at a faster pace
The silence broken, twas the sign
As from the trenches men do climb
And now the third and fourth do charge
As they their duty do discharge
No longer silence, fills the air
But artillery rattles everywhere
As canons blast their heavy load
With deafening boom does it explode
Crackle of gun, and thud on ground
The latter being quiet profound
Eyes blinded by the clouds of smoke
That shroud the meadow like a cloak
Still with his picture , tight in hand
Tom heads with fear to ‘no man’s land’
He wonders, should he take the chance
To stop and at the picture glance
‘Thud’ the bullet tears his chest
He falls, as blood seeps through his vest
With failing sight his fingers seek
And upon her picture Tom does weep
The light does fade, and darkness falls
Tom thinks he hears the angels call
He looks, upon a sea of dead
As poppies toss their heads of red.

She watched the scene, with tear in eye
Knowing many men that day would die
‘I simply do not understand
Why man can cause such harm to man
Why is it such a beauteous place
Bares witness to such deep disgrace
Where poppies red do grow beside
The cornflower blue, both stand with pride
Must I this bloody scene purvey?
When deep upon my heart this weighs
Have I the right to intervene
And save these men from nightmares dream?
Should I show mercy, I know I can
And in doing so such actions ban?
But I am told, ’tis not the way
For man does lead himself astray
The lessons, hard, and must be learned
If man can his redemption earn
I pledge, as now my tears do flow
Forever here, will flowers grow
Meadows filled with red and blue
Dancing in the breeze for you
And whilst my heart aches with regret
My promise: They will not forget.’

She from his hand, the picture took
Determined she should take a look
A beauty, it was clear to see
Did from the picture look at she
Peach coloured cheeks with dark brown eyes
She saw how Daisy, was Tom’s prize
‘Yes’ she thought, ’twas worth the chance
For Tom to take that one last glance’
A moment, Tom begins to stir
But all around does seem a blur
He knows his heart no longer beats
Yet finds himself upon his feet
Confused, he stares with eyes aghast
Upon his chest ripped by the blast
Blood flows still with growing speed
It seems the very earth doth bleed
He casts his eyes, for treasure lost
Which Tom must find at any cost
The picture gone, where could it be
The only treasure dear to he
Touched, she softly calls his name
Holds out the picture, Tom reclaims
And with a smile says ‘ take my hand
Its time to leave this no mans land
The dark does fade, departs the night
And we must walk towards the light’.

Tom turned, and took her outstretched hand
And together they crossed no mans land
As they walked, before his eyes
A thousand fallen men did rise
A smile, a wave, for Tom sees Joe
The one who’d been the first to go
No longer torn by sense of fear
Just led by she who seeks to steer
Yet Tom is troubled by the thought
Of his sweetheart Daisy, now distraught
‘Lady, I know not your name
And do not know from whence you came
Are you an angel, tell me please?
Do you come to now our souls release?
She smiled, with finger touched his cheek
‘I’ll give the answers you do seek.’
I am one, who guides the way
To every soul on judgment day
But now I have a special task
For I know that which you do not ask
Your lovely, Daisy, yes will grieve
For a telegram she will receive
But I promise , love has no regrets
And her Tom, she never will forget
There will come a time you meet again
Your hearts freed from relentless pain.’

‘Come , she said ‘and watch with me
Come, Tom, see what I do see
Spring forward twenty years or more
See Daisy, stood, her heart still sore
Though older now her eyes still shine
Her heart for ever still is thine
See how she stands before the grave
Lips tremble, yet I know she’s brave
Look, Tom, she clasps unto her chest
An image of you, she loved the best
Watch dear Tom, she’s in a daze
As falling tears her eyes do glaze
Listen Tom, hear her yet’,
‘I promised I would not forget.’
‘Go now Tom, its not remiss
And on her cheek plant softest kiss
Go dear Tom, for I know its true
She knows that kiss does come from you.’

Alone, walked she, among the dead
That o’er the summer meadow spread
She stopped, and watched, still poppies danced
By those who fell as they advanced
She saw how flowing blood did feed
The also fallen poppy seeds
She knew that by the month of June
The meadow would with poppies bloom
A sudden breeze, a summers chill
For Tom did stand beside her still
His face she saw with angst was torn
‘I know my Daisy, how she’ll mourn
I know how deep her heart will ache
Lady, please, for Daisy’s sake’
With outstretched hand again he spoke
‘Please give to her this envelope.’

She took the note and promised he
It would find its way to dear Daisy
Its words did tear her heart in two
For she knew the words were pure and true

‘Love, if you this letter read
I beg you, let your heart not bleed
I did not weather storm of night
And blackness now has dimmed my light
But give to me your loving smile
For I’ll be gone, for just a while
Cry, not for me, my Daisy please
For I come to you on mornings breeze
Let not your cheek be stained with tear
Just call my name and I will hear
Remember me, and times of joy
And kiss for me Arthur, our boy
Know my soul is filled with love
And looks upon you from above
Bonds that bind both you and I
Cannot be broken when I die
Ask my friends to raise a cheer
And drink for me a pint of beer
Smile, my Daisy please stay strong
Always , your own beloved Tom.’

Still stood amongst the poppies red
The cornflowers too still swayed their heads
The Goddess knew what she must do
To Tom’s request she would be true
The letter was a precious gift
She knew would Daisy’s spirits lift
A gift that she would always treasure
For through it Tom would live forever
Across the meadow , she did screen
Her eyes upon the tragic scene
‘How many men did die this day
Too short their lives to end this way
How many Tom’s their lives did give
For those unknown, that they might live
How many Daisy’s now do grieve
When their telegram they do receive?
How many hearts today now break?
For them my very soul does ache.’

Unseen, she stood beside her bed
And watched her toss and turn her head
Stifled sobs, and breaking heart
What wisdom could she now impart?
She took the letter from her cloak
And then to Daisy softly spoke
‘Sleep, for you will find your peace
And from your pain will come release’
Slowly did the sobs subside
As she moved to stand at Daisy’s side
She placed the letter in her hand
And a poppy red, from no man’s land
‘Daisy, though your heart does ache
Tom begs a smile, for his souls sake
The words he wrote I know are wise
For he sees beyond his own demise
The bonds that bound you and he
Will last for all eternity
When you do feel the summers breeze
It’s Tom’s kiss that does gently tease
And yes, he stands beside me now
With gentle finger strokes your brow
Listen to your place of dreams
Where all is not quite what it seems
Dream dear Daisy, he calls your name
And says his death was not in vain
Know that when you feel despair
Just call his name, for he is there
Another time, in depth of night
He’ll come to lead you to the light
A light to lead your new journey
And then, I know, you will be free.’

Twas another forty years and four
Before Daisy saw her Tom once more
Daisy, sick, lays in her bed
Confused, she cannot clear her head
Baby Arthur, long a man
Does sit and hold his mother’s hand
A whispered word, ‘Mum night does creep
It’s a good day for your longest sleep.’
The clouds do lift from Daisy’s eyes
And joyous from her comes a cry
For stood, beside her she does see
Her Tom, who says ‘I’ve come for thee
Come my Daisy, fast comes night
And walk with me into the light
I promised then that, you and me
Will live our life eternally.’
Gently now, he stroked her hair
And whispered ‘Ever still my Daisy fair’
Come, for now the lady calls
To take you to the judgement hall
Come, my Daisy, here’s my hand
Its time to leave this mortal land’
Come my love, ‘no time for tears
The light shines bright, the way is clear
Come my love, begin anew
Your Tom is now returned to you.’

Read Poetry: MOM’S ANGEL, Ken Allan Dronsfield

She sits majestically atop the Christmas tree

hair of gold

buttons sparkling

dress of white lace

her wings a stunning silver hue

I watched each year

her being placed

with loving care

upon the tree.

My mother standing back telling Dad,

to the left,

now right,

forward.

The years have now come and gone

Mom and Dad have passed away

the Angel sits in her box now

her dress dirty and worn

hair frizzy & unkempt

buttons don’t shine.

Memories are made and then put away

just like Mom’s beautiful Angel

radiance never forgotten

shining so very bright

each Christmas

Read Poetry: DAUGHTER OF THE SEVEN SOULS, by Fadrian A. Bartley

The cloud overcast, and with rain droplets

On the street of gallium valley

Silence in the atmosphere

Except the sound of a noisy boot worn by a priest

Walking swiftly down the wet lonely street

A little book in his hand

Wrapped around  it

Is the hanging rosary

Swinging above the ground

With the expectation of something sinister have him surround

Looking behind all is clear

But a priest on a mission seem to fear

Reaching the end of a frightened  journey

Begins a chapter of another story

Scream piercing through the walls of the antique building

Looking up to the broken window  is the appearance of a child

Dressed in white looking down at the priest

Entering through the wooden gate, then like magic she is no more.

A rushing wind approaches

As the priest force himself through the door

Entering the house of wooden floor

Where the door slams behind, and  a horse shoe fell to the ground.

An heart beat echoes through his ears

But courage for a priest without fear

The scream continued up the stairs

Coming from a little girl

With the changing tone of an old hog

Swiftly up the dusty steps the he ran

Bursting through a door of expected event

There’s a child with a raging force, surrounded with elders of seven

Incantation within the forceful creeps

Windows smashed to pieces a voice telling the child go to sleep

In Christ name leave this place

The priest command with a sinister force in a tangled state

Seven elders went up in smoke

A large mirror fell to the ground and broke

With Bloody red eyes the child spoke

A rushing wind surrounds their presence

Trembling forces and the house was shaken

How powerless thy faith, the child utters “you priest must be burn”

Take me not from this body, now is not your turn.

Objects fell and turn up sided down

Even crosses on the wall

Everywhere through the hall

Up to her face he held a cross

Leave this child at all cost

Lips frosted with spit dripping down to her cheek

Multiple voices with sparks of lightening illuminates all around

A rosary in the hand of the fainted priest all scattered to the ground

The priest have failed, but the child remains

Written By Fadrian .A. Bartley

Read Poetry: ANNABELLE, by Fadrian Bartley

Object succumb to silence from an alley of dark void

Fouls air flowing through the old wooden window

The expression of fear on the face of an old woman in a rocking chair

One finger prick by a cushion needle, when utters a verse of old riddle

 

Reflection from the moon through a dusty curtain

With the sound of a rushing wind swiftly disturb

Something flowing in the misty air looking to be settled

Trapped to an object of affection, a gift the child find infatuated

 

Doesn’t breath, no eyes to see

No trace of heartbeat pattering

Hollowed look and strange eyes, rest in the hand of a little girl

Standing at the doorway with a length of hair blowing in the misty wind

 

A metamorphic grandma have seen

The child utters ‘’you are in a dream’’

The slamming window and banging doors, the frighten child scream

And dropped a strange looking doll on the floor

 

A prayer whisper from the old widows lips

While a thick dark cloud causes the sun to eclipse

Only to lid a candle stick, she spoke ‘’pick up the doll my child’’

Foot steps ascending from the wooden floor beneath, And the child was nowhere to be found

 

The silence patter with an heartbeat

A  leaking pipe dripping softly from the other side of the silence

Up the stairs on wooden floor

Are heavy steps from tiny feet’s

The turning sounds of an open door, there stand a doll with hollowed creeps

Read Poetry: MOST AWAITED GUEST, by Soma Raje

When will the destiny fix our meeting? 
 When I’ll reach the table of my most awaited date..  
When we will have our very first eye contact  
When I’ll actually trust the meaning of fate… 
 
 I’m sick of pinch-hitters, I’m tired of being second.. 
 I don’t want any mean eyes around. 
 Come, crossing them all and hold my hand … 
 
 I’ve been searching for you. 
 Since I thought love exists..  
I know you are somewhere around. 
 Can’t see you because of the cruel midst … 
 
 Don’t you worry, I will not settle for lesser 
 As no one else can be better.. 
 For you, I’ll give my best 
 As baby! you being my most awaited guest …! 
 
 SOMA RAJE 

Read Poetry: PAIN, by Carmen Silva

Category: Pain 
 
 
Drown, drown, drown in pain 
As it floats out of my own soul; 
Deep, deep, deep down into the earth it goes 
As it pours out my mouth as overflows. 
 
Deep, deep, deep my fingers dig the ground 
As I try burying the hurt; 
Choke, choke, choke with the dirt, myself can’t breathe  
As too deep down I go, I go, I go.

By Carmen Silva 

Written Nov. 1st, 2017 
Email: carmensilva@yahoo.com 
Twitter: @Carmen_Silva2 
IG: @carmen_silva_actress 
Website: carmensilva.net