LETTER FROM A SYRIAN CHILD TO HIS MOTHER, Poetry by Valentina Meloni

Mom, you never told me

that you can die even breathing

I believed that to die

it would take a wound,

a crack from which life

Genre: Kids, Life,Death, Family, Fear, War

LETTER FROM A SYRIAN CHILD TO HIS MOTHER
by Valentina Meloni

Mom, you never told me

that you can die even breathing

I believed that to die

it would take a wound,

a crack from which life

could come out along with the blood …

Mom, you never told me

that you can die playing

among the stones and the dust

of the road who saw me run.

You never told me

you’d greeted me from so far away

and that, crying, your soul

would come to claim me.

Mom, you never told me

that you can die breathing in a dream,

that the air can also be a poison.

You told me not

I’d be an angel of glass,

asleep, in a white shroud.

Mom you never told me

the death would make me bright and beautiful

sweeping away the fear of bombs.

Mom … however,

I could not tell you yesterday,

while I was playing with the death

how much I loved you and wanted you well.

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THE PEAR, Poetry by Patrick D. Peay

Let me plant my bitter seed, and we can make a better breed

They’ll know not to complain about the rain

The rain is like good therapy

It is food for the pear tree

So we can live a life that is carefree

There is no partridge in this tree

Genre: Maniacal Spoken Word

THE PEAR by Patrick D. Peay

While I sit in my lair with a painting of a pear

I sit and stare off into thin air and wonder why life isn’t fair

I wouldn’t dare compare my flare to that of another player

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pear

I swear I won’t get stressed out and pull out all my hair

These burdens I bear make me aware that people like me are rare

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pear

I’m not square, so don’t give me that glare

It’s not like I’m running for mayor

I’ve got a prayer my soul is spared

I’m not a hero, but don’t say I didn’t care

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pear

 

Let me plant my bitter seed, and we can make a better breed

They’ll know not to complain about the rain

The rain is like good therapy

It is food for the pear tree

So we can live a life that is carefree

There is no partridge in this tree

This isn’t for the industry

The fruits of my loom are for my enemies

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pear

There’s something on my mind I would like to share

This is not a Facebook status

This could come without practice

Practice, we’re talking about practice, practice

Muscle memory should make this automatic

Why not burn to the core like acid that is muriatic

The blood I shed is hydrochloric

There should be a warning for it

There’s passion in my veins, I can’t ignore it

I seek to do something that is historic

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pear

Sometimes I give myself quite a scare

 

That’s right sometimes I scare myself, but I’ve learned to prepare myself

There will always be a call when you need my help

So just keep picking at my pears

Soon enough the traps I’ve set will ensnare

Then you will be the one that’s in despair

I’m just a man in his lair with a painting of a pear

I deal with shades that are fifty times grayer

 

 

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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

Reflection, Poetry by Barbara Hunt

She disappears as the dark abyss swallows her whole As she sits alone heart breaks with her soul filled with emotions

Genre: Dark, Death and Hurt

Reflection by Barbara Hunt

Darkness shadows and fear flash there jagged teeth towards her
She disappears as the dark abyss swallows her whole As she sits alone heart breaks with her soul filled with emotions
She looks at herself in the mirror and sees not herself but the dead girl smile back she shatters the mirror and drops to the floor uttering her name in the silence

 

 

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Paris – The Atrocity 13th November 2015 – Poetry Reading by Jane Gill Wilson, Read by Maya Wolosyzn

I was given the opportunity to submit to Wildsound following the publication of ‘Paris – The Atrocity’ on the poetry festival website. After reviewing some poetry performances I thought it would be beneficial to promote my work to a wider audience via Wildsound.

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Get to know poet Jane Gill-Wilson:

1) What is the theme of your poem?

The theme of ‘Paris – The Atrocity’ is Human Interest, Emotive, Rhyme.

2) How would you like people to respond when they read or watch your poetry reading?

My aim is to draw the reader/listener into the heart of the subject matter. In the case of ‘Paris – The Atrocity’ I hope the poem will allow people to explore their own thoughts surrounding the tragic events, and raise an awareness of the secondary consequences of such atrocities.

3) How long have you been writing poetry?

I began writing poetry as a cathartic process during some troubled times in 2010.

4) Do you have a favorite poet?

No, I don’t really have a favorite poet. I am very much inspired by life events and write inspirational, biographical poetry. My style is always rhyming verse. However, I have been influenced by Pam Ayres who is an English poet, comedian  and songwriter. My next book due to be published by Pegasus Eliot Mackenzie in 2016 is a humorous collection of dating stories told in rhyme.

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

I was given the opportunity to submit to Wildsound following the publication of ‘Paris – The Atrocity’ on the poetry festival website. After reviewing some poetry performances I thought it would be beneficial to promote my work to a wider audience via Wildsound.

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

Yes, I am a songwriter and regularly co write with other artists. I am also writing my debut novel.

Some of my songs and those of my co writers can be heard at:www.reverbnation.com/janegillwilson

7) What is your passion in life?

My passion in life is my creativity through words.  I am never happier than when I’m writing, be it a poem or a song.

—–

Poetry performed by Maya Wolosyzn

Produced/Directed by Matthew Toffolo

Editor/Shot by John Johnson

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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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‎PANDEMONIUM, Poetry by Vanessa Anthony

The past’s place misplaced
The future lacking in grace
The present looking faked
How much more can I take

Genre: Dark, Emotional, Pain, Despair Death

‎PANDEMONIUM
by Vanessa Anthony

The past’s place misplaced
The future lacking in grace
The present looking faked
How much more can I take

Drifting in and out of shadows
No focus in the hallows
Darkness darker than dark
Here I lay, stark

Illusive mirage
Emotional barrage
Unbreakable chains
Unspeakable pains

Broken pieces
Heart beat ceases
Once again in darkness
Droned in madness

http://www.vanessaknowspoetry.blogspot.com

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