Category: 2018 Poetry

Read Poem: Valley Of Death, by Sujoy Bhattacherjee

You are the anatomical wonder !
More velvety than the petals of a rose .
Churner of the charm , you enigmatic flower !
You are the way in and way out of life –
In the form of sperm and fetus .
You kindle the lamp of life , source of human birth .
You are the confluence of all sin and vice , envy and revenge.
who first tasted the forbidden fruit – Adam or Eve ? I know not .
Earth’ s magnetic poles can’t meet each other , miles apart .
Human magnetic poles caress each other to continue the current of life and death!

You are worshipped as a living deity by your devotees – devilishly pious .
You are a black hole more malignant than a dead star !
Your moist tract – abysmal dark , murky hades incarnation !
There is a way in to your garden – an Eden on the Earth .
Who can ever wish to come out of a pleasant labyrinth ?
You are the bearded oyster – nurture pearls of shivering life .
An active volcano emitting lava of lust to torpedo – minds .
A dormant rivulet flowing eternally to rinse human filth .
You are elastic enough to allow a passage to fetus – great creator !
Penis protrudes – an encroaching during coitus , a snake to hibernation .
You are a valley of death , a gymnasium of life too ,
a contradictory juxtaposition !

Read Poem: …And We Die, by Stacey Ishag

Revolution is led by the young
The battle of oppression is near.
Freedom bells have rung
We’ve suppressed our fear.

and we die… as you observe and meet
and they die… while you drag your feet

The world watches our blood,
as it flows through the streets.
Politicians clean their hands,
with our defeat.

and we die… while you negotiate peace
and they die… by the hands of our own police
This suffrage for toleration has come too far to unwind.
Seems like a no win situation,
unless you emancipate your mind.

and we die… while you sit and debate
and they die… watching their women raped

The struggle against tyranny will continue,
until our dreams are realized.
My town, your village, whatever the venue,
our liberation mustn’t be compromised.

and we die… to be honored by the freed
and we’ve died… martyrs
our last breath singing nasheed

TG
Summer

revolution war redemption oppression political freedom society rhyme

Read Poem by Fidget Poetry

i’ve got this goddamn fan on high
and i’m cycling through all my bad dreams
meanwhile these two maladjusted pipes
dangling over my head
bang out another lost cause symphony
while my glossy eyed dog
stares into space
begging me to come home

theories about how to get well
stories about singing the blues
poems about cancer spreading my love
that is all i need right now
nothing complicated
nothing out of the ordinary
just a good old fashioned
hanging of the soul

Read Poem: LATE SPRING FILES, by Travis Darkow

Barbed wire fences stretch down this dirt road
All the way to the dusty iron gates that hold back
The secrets of an ill regarded graveyard

A space of well intentioned headstones that lie in wait
For the paranoia of the seasons to come to an end

Late spring flies gather and swarm
Between shadows of the passing years

In nonsensical terms this all makes perfect sense
Innocence
In a sense

Lost through time
Revoked beauty held hidden just beneath the surface
Blood runs from the trees down through the roots
The buds of a pale future drown in the soil
Before they will ever have the chance to bloom

Nothing will survive the coming days
But we should be so lucky for the chance to start again

Read Poem: The Lady of Shallot Revisited, by Caro Field

The barley fields are golden ever,
The willows weep, the aspens shiver,
By the swift, fast-flowing river,
On the road to Camelot,
I glimpse the walls, the four grey towers,
A sense of gloom quite overpowers,
And a solitude that just devours,
When I set eyes upon Shallot.

I push the heavy, oaken door,
Petals line the marble floor,
I feel like I’ve been here before,
In the Castle of Shallot.
The silence echoes and it’s eerie,
It envelops those who, travel weary,
Find the Castle somewhat dreary,
This Castle of Shallot.

I climb the gently curving stairs,
Their grace takes me so unawares,
None before these quite compares,
To the stairwells at Shallot,
As I ascend in the sombre gloom,
I come across a tiny room,
And in it sits the very loom,
Of the Lady of Shallot.

It was here that she would sit and weave,
And she never took her leave,
She wove steadily, without reprieve,
The tales of Camelot.
She wove and wove, she knew not why,
But if she stopped, she’d surely die,
So to stave off death, she did comply,
The Lady of Shallot.

She wove her web of myth and mystery,
Of Arthur’s world, and of its history,
How his court was almost consistory,
The court at Camelot.
But she wove whilst looking in a mirror,
It somehow made her visions clearer,
And all emotions even dearer,
For the Lady of Shallot.

But one day, out rode Sir Lancelot,
On his fine steed, at a steady trot,
And our careful weaver clean forgot,
The Lady of Shallot.
As she looked on him, the mirror cracked,
And she knew that she could not retract,
She’d sealed her fate, and that’s a fact,
The Lady of Shallot.

And so she dressed in purest white,
And in her boat did she alight,
Resigning herself to her fearful plight,
The Lady of Shallot.
She lay down in that small, small boat,
And calmly, set herself afloat,
Chanting the dirge she knew by rote,
The Lady of Shallot.

Those on shore all watched her go,
Caught fast amid the raging xflow,
Trying hard not to let their feelings show,
For the Lady Of Shallot.
Because the mirror cracked from side to side,
As she floated, she slowly died,
And all who saw her mourned and cried,
For the Lady of Shallot.

© Caro Field

Poetry Reading: Poetry of Mind, by Joy Genauer

Performed by Matt Barnes

 

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

Director: Kierston Drier

Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne

Editor: Kimberly Villarruel

Camera Op: Mary Cox

Poetry Reading: The Ruins, by William P. Robertson

Performed by Matt Barnes

 

******

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

Director: Kierston Drier

Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne

Editor: Kimberly Villarruel

Camera Op: Mary Cox