Millions of stars in the heavens above,
Only one uncle to cherish and love,
Thousands and Thousands of flowers, and trees,…
Hundreds and hundreds of mountains, and seas,
Everything multiplied over an over,
Robins and butterflies, bees in the clover,
Many good friends to think the world of,
But only one uncle to cherish and love
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Toughness lightens your voluptuous jaws
with monstrous hunger
to engulf human edifice of excellent creation .
How
could you maintain silky softness behind your stony of
ruthlessness ?
The sky above watches with tears of reprimanding
scolds,
your crafty games you play to toy with the flimsy effort of
human beings-
helpless puppet to the capricious whims of your
restless nature .
Molten saps of petrified dynasties running
through your crevices –
whisper the incantation to revive the
dormant fossils awaiting for quenching its thirst for solar
radiation .
Your crude cajoling for witnessing human molestation
by your retinue ,
confer wooing suffering to earthly beings .
Poets and writers invest
on your infatuating aspects to reap golden crops .
You are a menacing medley of both creation and annihilation.
Your bridal attraction , your enchanting enigma
allure people to attend the
feasting ceremony you arrange to trap your victims .
The sky scolds
you wheedlingly for your crafty devices to caress creatures
to devilish death .
You muse mockingly at the shedding of
crocodile’s tears of the sky for the dying earth .
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Genres: fear, anger, horror, death, rage, torture, destruction, bloody, screaming
The demons that haunt me
Linger in my dark to flaunt me.
Speaking in whispers to taunt me.
Eating my life from within to gaunt me.
From their souls I can not hide.
I have lost myself with them inside.
All I have left are the memories those who have died.
“ If only I could have helped them be safe!
From my bad self that waits inside!”
“You are so weak and pathetic you fool!
You know you can not stop me!”
“Why can’t you leave me alone?
And take your darkest deeds and thoughts away!”
“Such a whining child, no back bone!
I have wonderful plans and I so enjoy my craft!”
I smile when they begged and cried.
I can not stop what I need to do.
My hands are guided to see it all through.
I laughed as their lives began to bleed and unscrew.
I am looking for another to play with, could it be you?
I despised all the human greedy desires and bloated vanity.
You might think I am crazy
Or that I live in a world full of insanity.
But that is okay with me
Because I am your worst fear.
A screaming image you can not escape from.
Because I am what your nightmares are made of.
The bogeyman that visits you in the dark.
The shadow that always seems to follow you.
Or the whispering voice behind you.
Yes, I am all of these things and much, much more.
You see, I am your monster!
Jeff Bardeau August 30, 2017
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Performed by Val Cole
What is the theme of your poem?
I have been always in pursuit of going beyond physical. Going beyond physics. I consider physical body is weak but the spirit is strong. Spiritualism, perhaps can be the theme besides other layers of themes. It may have multiple interpretations. Hermeneutics .
What motivated you to write this poem?
The impulse running underneath the is letting go of physical and realising the spritual.
How long have you been writing poetry?
I have now been writing poetry since more than three decades .
If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?
Dinner reminds me of the last supper. I wish i was with nine disciples of Christ.
What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?
To me poetry is performance as well along with reading it out aloud with certain specific rhythm.
And Festival for Poetry has come out with indescribable idea for performance reading my some one who for other field of arts. An actor. It is always exciting to see how your poetry gets performed.
Do you write other works? scripts? Short Stories? Etc..?
I practice writing poetry in Gujarati language ( my mother tongue ) besides translations I often translate Gujarati language poetry into English language besides my own Gujarati language poetry .
What is your passion in life?
The ultimate passion in life is to be human. I love this life where we are human beings.
Is it not true that when you wake up to see the world and switch on your television and you see all nations torn apart and that centre cannot hold …
Vihang A. Naik 😦 b. 1969 ) Indian poet writing in English.He took to teaching as a profession, serving in colleges since 1996 in Gujarat. He lives and works in Gujarat, India. He can be visited at http://www.vihang.org
Performed by Laura Kyswaty
What is the theme of your poem?
The passage of time…
What motivated you to write this poem?
I live as much ‘in the moment’ as I am able and the smallest of events can inspire me – a twig cracking underfoot, the scent of Rosemary as I brush past. The ‘Blue Remembered Hills’ is the place I live.
How long have you been writing poetry?
I’ve ben writing for 60+ years.
If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?
John Donne (1572 – 1631)
What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?
Some of my songs and poems have been performed by other artists and I enjoy a different take on my words, often revealing something I had not discovered myself in my own works.
Do you write other works? scripts? Short Stories? Etc..?
I am a singer songwriter and Blue Remembered Hills is one of my songs. I am releasing an album in October 2017. I also write novels. And I am a painter.
What is your passion in life?
Words, Music, Art, Love.
Performed by Val Cole
What is the theme of your poem?
Never prematurely judge things by appearance and always expect the unexpected.
Also, secondarily, it is intended to simply be a scary thriller.
What motivated you to write this poem?
I was doing some genealogy research and found one of our family names to be “Isadore.” Isadore is kind of a spooky name to me, a name you would expect to find in a Transylvania manor. So I pictured this old, isolated manor on a hill with bats and moon glow and all the other “eerie” stuff and was inspired to write a poem about what it might be like for someone’s car to break down on a cold evening way out in the middle of nowhere and they have to take shelter in this old stone manor on the hill that is spooky and creepy, and this guy named Isadore lives there.
How long have you been writing poetry?
47 years
If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think it would be a lot more fun to have dinner with someone who is alive rather than dead. I’ve had some dates I thought were dead and it wasn’t fun. Ha! Seriously, it would be cool to have dinner with Robert Frost.
What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?
Thought it would be cool to have a scary poem performed and that it might be a good promotional tool for my other work, so I went for it.
Do you write other works? scripts? Short Stories? Etc..?
I write short stories and have three published. I write business and quality of life articles, many have been published. I write articles about managing personal finances for GOBankingRates . com. I write articles about poetry and writing and I write essays about life, the world, society and more. I write science fiction/fantasy stories and am working on a novel. And of course, I write poetry, I have two full collections of poetry published, both have been received very well and I get some great reviews.
What is your passion in life?
Writing stories, poetry and non-fiction works.
Genre: Dark, scary, empowering, unknown, mystery, life
Turning and twisting out of reach
My dreams turn dark my fears unleashed
As I slowly drown in darkness I feel it’s icy touch I squirm trying to stay out of its evil clutches but it’s just not enough
The light of day continues to fade far from my reach
My heart beats fast as at last I finally see this living beast for what it truly is
I embrace it’s tendrils empowered and unafraid my fear fades far away as I dive into the darkness I now find comforting
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They were wrapped up within one another
Like tangles bits of twine;
Two threads stitching a single lover:
“I’m yours, and you’re mine.”
They embraced hard and fast,
Desperately trying to get closer
On bed-sheets stained of nights past
And pillow-talk echoing “No, sir.”
How sleeping came with sublime ease,
And they fit together like a rhyme;
They both ink’d moments just like these
As the drifted into time.
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I see a shooting star, traverse the full-moon.
Like a jungle bushfire, raging out of sight.
I feel the heat of midday, smothering the night.
Like a warm body, inside her tomb.
I see the dawn, without the golden sun.
Like a Lyrebird, singing all out of tune.
I hear the morning rain, without a cloud in the sky.
Like yesterday’s floods, leaving her high and dry.
I see a sandy beach, awash by a tidal wave.
Like a burning desert, water is her grave.
I fill lonely sheets, with empty dreams.
Like a dark chasm’s irrelevant beams.
I see a summer leaf, wilted by a frosty Autumn.
Like an unwatered orchid, opening to an old anthem.
I feel like a splintered heart, inside a single atom.
Like a snake’s dead skin, her rejected emblem
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