​​​​​​It’s Only Right, Poetry by Drew Price

I know he didn’t mean it. He says I’m sorry so it’s only right I forgive him. He tells me he loves me so it’s only right I believe him. He tells me it won’t happen again so it’s only right I trust him.

Genre: Hurt, Love, Lust, Pain

​​​​​​It’s Only Right by Drew Price
​​​The Fool in Love (Which Always Seems To Be The Woman)

​​​​​​Cliché

I know he didn’t mean it. He says I’m sorry so it’s only right I forgive him. He tells me he loves me so it’s only right I believe him. He tells me it won’t happen again so it’s only right I trust him. And you know I’d leave him but its only right I’m insecure, lost without him its only right my self-esteem be knee high to a grass hopper, Knee high to a new born, knee high to the leg of the chair I fell into you know the one he pushed me into when I mustard up a mustard seed amount of courage to tell him I’m worth more, but its only right that I didn’t because not even I believe that. I know he’s unfaithful, but it’s only right I stay because he may sleep with them, but he comes home to me so I know he doesn’t care about them only me, just like he says. Not even the sting of peroxide inside my open wounds makes for reason enough to leave because I know he’s just stressing got a lot on his plate and I just pushed him to his limit. So don’t tell me to go don’t warn me of my safety because I find pleasure in the pain of the fast fist and harsh words or at least that’s what I told myself because its only right I make excuses as to why I should stay. We all know I’m insecure its only right I can’t live without him like my life wasn’t created before him and won’t be without him like I hadn’t found any parts of heaven before him but hell burned in my back yard so you know it’s only right he be my knight and shining armor to put the fire out. I know his words are sour. Stale “your beautiful” and false “I love you,” but I stomach it because somewhere this must be a delicacy and I must be very lucky and you must be a treasure and I must be a wonder and you don’t see it yet, but its only right I stay around until you do because we all know a foolish wife believes all tales true or untrue which goes right back to me needing you which goes right back to never leaving you because that’s what I’m supposed to do as the insecure lover who obviously has no brother.. Or no father because its only right my reasoning be need for male figures need for a heart lifter need for a strong hand even though your back hand is firmer than your hug but somehow they both feel the same. It’s only right I push that feeling behind my lasting love because it’s only right I become a punching bag for love. It’s only right I have no back bone so I stomach your rough hands even if they crack and bleed against my open wounds created by those same rough hands. It’s only right I be stuck between rock and hard place more like fist and fist cold heart and dead emotion not love all lust but its only right I stay. I…. the joke past among friends masked as she deserves betters and she’s stupid for staying, masked as “why do you think so little of yourself?” and “ Child I know you lost your father but he’s turning over in his grave at the sight of you with this monster.” It’s only right I lift my head slow with the weight of a ton of a bricks and say “you don’t know him like I do. Really, he’s a different so don’t talk bad about him just remember the curl in his smile the first day you met him and remember how beautiful the mask created by his wit was. Remember him as he was the fantasy of my imagination. Remember when I told you “This one’s different,” It’s only right I face my mother like god on judgement day and say “See momma’ I’m okay. He gave me this ring to make it all go away. He gave me this bag and begged me to stay.” But he also gave me these scars and on this floor I lay but its only right I stay because it’s my fault I had no right acting this way so it’s only right I stay as long as you’ve covered the bruises it means they’ve gone away so forget that day…allow it to become dust along with the person you once were… before you fell in dangerous love. This person, this flawed person with eyes containing no depth and hands too weak to hold a heart now to broken to mold into anything desirable. I, clearly the face of bastard children. Looking as though I’ve lived with no love so desperate willing to give my heart to any person willing to take it, so along came you and along came this cliché which I fit perfectly… It’s only right one day I come to my senses but only when it’s too late only when I’m bearing a child because my life alone isn’t enough to care about so it always takes a child for me to realize any sense of worth and even then my worth is no worth at all because its only right that I place me below your hard rugged feet, a footstool, a doormat, just an object to you its only right that be me. I that silent spirit too flawed for gods touch too flawed for your desire just weak enough for your abuse, I that still fool hearted silly girl, you clever lover with oil words silk smooth yet bitter to the taste but that just goes back to the delicacy you are how I must treasure this bitter taste you are this sticky feeling you bring, old song you sing, once music to the king, but your demonic heart shot your music to hell and it only be right I come along for the ride only right I steer this ship called love wreck we’ve created with our hands this ship called love wreck we’ve created where we stand and when this ship is destroyed.. It’s only right I take the blame not like you deserve it, but its only right I take the shame. To what do I owe this pleasure? You and me together to what do I owe it? I learned the back side of your hand like momma done raised me right so I memorized the sting of it that way I would never be caught off guard by the pain of it. Oh this stain you left of me. Oh this heart you broke of mine…this evil you’ve surrounded me by, so why did I pray by you? Pray for you? Have faith in your I’m sorry’s? Why? You this vast ocean with angry waves ruffled by rough winds me, this delicate ship who bares your waves just to feel the cool of your waters against my cheeks how I love the feel… even though the after math be rotting and broken boards my ship little and fragile standing up to the devil in your rocking waters…. Just for the feel of your cool waters. You my cool waters words like diamonds sharp enough to cut…. And you do, but it’s only right I hide the bleeding put a bandage over and act like it’s not there its only right I ignore the pain and the fear and the warning. My god. This skeleton of me you’ve created all skin and bones its only right I learned to starve the need for love, my god, this skeleton of me you’ve created, but its only right I learn to love my bones.
The eve of my funeral it’s only right you sit… behind rusted grey bars in a black and white jumpsuit and think of me, how much you loved me. They gave you life for taking mine. It rained for days after that because I sent tears from heaven just so you know I still cared and… I did. I this distant memory of limbs and organs who fell in love with the devil so it’s only right that even from heaven I find a soothing melody in your eyes. When you sleep I appear in your dreams and tell you, “I love the flowers you sent my mom on the eve of my death… I wish I could smell them but you snatched the air out of my lungs when your unhappy hands met my neck like baseball bats and… I forgive you, because its only right I forgive you.”

 

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The Problem With Lester, Poetry by Damian Christopher

It was clear Lester was an old fool
Perusing that which is Delphic
In vain attempts
To seek divine forgiveness
For a sweet tooth for sin
And maladies of every nature
Only to give invitation to fear
And impercievable things
He will never know
Nor comprehend

Genre: New Goth

The Problem With Lester
by Damian Christopher

It was clear Lester was an old fool
Perusing that which is Delphic
In vain attempts
To seek divine forgiveness
For a sweet tooth for sin
And maladies of every nature
Only to give invitation to fear
And impercievable things
He will never know
Nor comprehend

The fool,
Blind to his folly
In pursuance of the impish and profane
In time, discovers their true associations
And maledictory nature
Injurious and virulent
He is soon bedeviled
To an eternity of futile pursuits
And a congregation of shame

The fool,
Mute to the whispers of the trees
Cries of the wind
And counsel of wild things
Wages wisdom for lunacy
Peculiarly, the selfish loon
For his vessel is perverse
Habitual in enduring disgrace
And he is forever weary

The fool,
His fate, kismet quelled
For there are those
That lay eyes upon us
Regardful our every deed
For the the price of redemption loss
In the hands of the damned
Is their baneful inclination

The fool,
A slave to his every whim
Devoid of prerogative
And sweet reason
Clever in his naiveté

But moored by dark, grave principalities
Like a hoary beast of burden
Fallen from grace
Even unto his last days
In misery, He shall amain in vain
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NOT SO AMAZING POEM FOR AN AMAZING GIRL – Poetry Reading by Abhishek Jha. Performed by Reetu Bambrah

– The theme of the poem is about life. It talks about what we perceive and what the eternal truth could be. It is about how wide and wild can our imagination go.

Watch NOT SO AMAZING POEM FOR AN AMAZING GIRL

Get to know poet Abhishek Jha:

1) What is the theme of your poem?

– The theme of the poem is about life. It talks about what we perceive and what the eternal truth could be. It is about how wide and wild can our imagination go.

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

– They could either respond in writing or post videos with their comments.

3) How long have you been writing poetry?

– Have started writing about a year back.

4) Do you have a favorite poet?

– “Ode to the West Wind” by P.B Shelley

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

– A friend told me to submit since it is a good platform to showcase your piece to the world.

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

– I write short stories as well.

7) What is your passion in life?

– Passion in life is to start start my own company and do good for the world.

The One Night Stand, Poetry by Carolyne M. Acen

Alone and confused
No written pattern for the previous night
No special one night creed to relate
The price of guilt now marked
on her face, drawn in sheets tainted in sex.

Genre: Regret, Sadness, Lust

The One Night Stand.
by Carolyne M. Acen

Alone and confused
No written pattern for the previous night
No special one night creed to relate
The price of guilt now marked
on her face, drawn in sheets tainted in sex.

Ephemeral, quick to leave!
Awake but in denial to what
happened the previous night.
Memories still fresh like the pathetic
fumes of cigar and cheap alcohol
still lingering in the hotel room
A haunting most sufficient.

Surreal moments lavished in the
arms of a stranger who is used
to dishing out the same tale.
Promises were not made, emotions lingered
Hasty retreats were undertaken and
passions were aflame…
culminating to crazy sex scenes.
Time caught up with their frenzied love
space and spent embraces dissolved.
She must have passed out after all that
alcohol intoxication.

He left without a word
Not a message or address to relate to.
A face almost as familiar as the
taste of Oreos on a cold evening.
Clutching onto torn sheets,
memories painstaking,
bitter truth now embalmed in her nakedness
Time veered on unceremoniously
The sun followed suite unanimously
A quiet reckoning the walk of shame
The hotel dimmed low,
receding as the one night stand.

©Carolyne M. Acen 2015

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