WHEN I’M FEELING BLUE, by Sahar S.

When I’m down and out feeling blue

Just close my eyes, hand to hand and think of you

Can’t forget smiling on your face, sparkling eyes

Your kindness, your endless love, your emotion never lies

We share times together, you never left me alone
So when I’m down and out feeling blue
I know you are there for me، through thick and thin

You were my best friend my life, I have ever seen
I am lucky to have you around me
You are just with me I can feel I can see

I share my happiness song for you with glee
I share my sadness with you, which makes me free

You sit beside me, take my hand
Its heaven for us this land

I feel the warmest, honesty
It’s cold but with you I don’t feel frosty

When I am down and out feeling blue
I close my eyes hand to hand think of you

TEMPTATIONS, by Denisse Perez

Feel I need you , I can’t lie

But the morals don’t apply

But I can’t fight what’s inside

I can’t get you off my mind

Thinking I should let you know

That it’s you I want to show

All the places we can go

It won’t hurt if they don’t know

Think of all that we can be

They don’t know what they can’t see

It’ll just be you and me

It’ll feel like ecstasy

We can keep it on the low

I can love you nice and slow

From the bed onto the floor

Lose my mind while I lose yours

Can’t resist, I need a taste

Everytime I see your face

Want to take you to a place

Where your body I’ll embrace

Wanna feel what’s in between

As I watch you watching me

It’ll be so magically

We could do it secretly

Really want to let you know

But afraid that you’ll say no

Run away with me, let’s go

Take my hand and I’ll take yours

Wanna love you endlessly

Want your body under me

Make a dream reality

I’ll fulfill your every need

I’m not scared to fall

For you I’ll risk it all

Feels right although it’s wrong

Temptations I can’t stall

LIFE, by THA.WriteHer

Sometimes we go through things in life
And we don’t know why
These are the facts of life
sometimes we laugh and other times we cry

God is always sending us messages
To take a look at the life that we choose to pursue
Because he doesn’t want to see our lives in ruin
Don’t allow your thoughts to wonder why and stray

When a loved one is taken away
Pick up the pieces to bring understanding through the comfort of prayer
To relieve the fear and being afraid
When God created us, he already had our destiny in his eyes

So that we can motivate others
From understanding, knowledge and to make us wise
Encourage and strengthen one another

Help everyone that you can and be strong
Peace and blessings will cover you
Inspiration can come through in poetry and song

THA.WriteHer

POETRY Reading: Aren’t you tired of NYC?, by Marcela B

Performed by Allison Kampf

POEM

Many of us arrived in NYC with one luggage and a heart full of dreams.
When you are in New York city, you get psyched with its energy and immediately you start to ask why?

At the beginning you don’t know if it is because the astonishing architecture that intertwine the ” old” and the ” new”.
You don’t know if it is because the modern skyscrapers or because all the last century buildings with their emergency exit facades showing off.
You just feel it.

You don’t know if it is because the Broadway lights that makes you feel you’re in a non-stop, never ending party.
Or if it’s because the beauty of the Central Park that makes you feel you’re somewhere else for a moment.
You just feel it.

You don’t know if it is because this idea that you can be anywhere in less than 30 min by subway. Ah….the subway, this old, dirty, democratic and now first time disinfected system that carries the entire city from the homeless to the rich, from ordinaries to the celebrities.
You just feel it.

You don’t know if it’s because the bike lanes and citi bikes that makes you feel the wind in your face, the sun on your skin.
You just feel it.

You don’t know if it is because it feels you’re inside a movie set… is it fantasy? is it reality? Maybe both.

After sometime in New York, sooner or later you may realize the magic of this city actually does not rely on the outside.
The magic, the true magic, rely on the inside.

NY is tough, not everyone can make it here. It can be overwhelming.
You don’t know if it’s because the high rental fees and limited space.
Or if its because this city requires too much from you – NY always raises the bar.
From work, to restaurants, entertainment, to the possibilities… a wealth of possibilities.
You just feel it.

This constant and exhausting idea of #empirestateofmind that moves everything and everyone above and beyond.
You just feel it.

Now in middle of a pandemic anyone could think why stay in New York, why just not fly somewhere else, escape far away from this madness?

Well, New York never adapts to your desires, never adjust to your dreams, nor compromise. This city will punch you in your face more than you can possibly sustain, over and over again.

In the end, we are NY tough.
We know that we will fall not just once but many times, but we will rise stronger again.
We know that if we can make it here we can make it anywhere. We take this statement by heart.
We know this city has our back, for the best and the worst.

Today I can tell I am and always will be in love with this city, even tough every winter I may think otherwise, even tough I am living in the eye of the hurricane right now. The resilience found here cannot be found anywhere else.
You just feel it

It’s a privilege to call NYC home.
It’s a blessing to be surrounded for all the inspiring and spectacular minds that feed NYC’s veins and make us all addicted to be here, thus we persist.
We just feel it.

From Ash: Taming the Phoenix, by Abdullah Kinan

Performed by Allison Kampf

POEM:

“Look up at the night sky and count the stars until daybreak; my love for life now exceeds both the number of stars and the time it would take.

To traverse the horizon and navigate the seas, or brave the desert’s barren passages with ease; nothing is an impossible feat.

My love for life is power, empowering, serene. It motivates me to strive for the impossible- it motivates me to fly over obstacles.

I will crash through glass ceilings until the shattered mirrors falling over me reflect my yearning for the parts of myself that I’ve lost along my journey.

I yearn for the parts of me that drifted away like dust particles intercepting the rays of light that peer through the window at sunrise- perhaps those parts of me prevented me from inner peace.

Perhaps you’ll find those parts of me and I’ll find you- perhaps all hardship is a tool that we can utilize to hammer these lessons into our beings.

Perhaps some lessons are harder to penetrate- so never quiver or quake at the sight of the path towards the next mountain after you’ve just climbed to the first peak, because, verily, with every hardship there is ease.”

POETRY Reading: Random Forests, by Mark Tiegs

Performed by Allison Kampf

POEM:

we are in the random forests
we are. leo. adele. Ho[4][5] and Amit and German [6] in order (Fujitsu now)
we are random forests
we are decision trees. tree bagging (Main article: Bootstrap aggregating)
predictions for unseen samples x’ can be made by averaging the predictions
from all the individual regression trees onx’
we are from bagging to random forests
we are in the 7000 oaks
we are documenta 7 (joseph beuys)
we are 7000 oaks
we are the basalt stones pointing to the oaks
predictions for unseen situ (situationist international (not regression trees))
we are from random forests to 7000 oaks

POETRY Reading: The Keening Curlew, by Bill Mumford

Performed by Allison Kampf

POEM:

Hail, blown by Artic Maritime wind
Stings. Westmorland whitens, all sound freezes.
I take shelter in a silent lime kiln
Stone cold. No fire here, all warmth has been mined.
Pulled my dog close- wary with unease
Numbed. Quiet, waiting as the cold seeps in.

Steam of light cuts through an icy veil
Glimpses of a silhouette, then the lament
As a curlew keens his incantation.
His lovelorn song tells such a sad tale
Memories of moors filled with enchantment-
His thoughts turn- for hope and expectation.

They say: birth chimes bring the sick belief
Moment of joy in a landscape of grief

POETRY Reading: The Outskirts of Psychosis, by Divinia Reynolds

Performed by Allison Kampf

The Outskirts of Psychosis
By Divinia Reynolds

Upon the outskirts of the psychosis
They swirl up high, then swim subconscious, low:
Thoughts mill around like robust vivid fish,
But who can tell where each of them will go?

Man thinks: It’s strange- this thing we call ‘Today’.
Just as he meets the fork upon the road.
Ahead is traffic on its noiseless way
And trucks adrift like minds with heavy loads.

Like otherworldly dim decoration,
Like thoughts he can’t ever recall again,
Life fades like he’s just missed the occasion,
In alien worlds like this on hidden plains.

Remembering his escort, Man now talks
With less assurance than his first babbles
And as the two pursue this aching walk
His brother is perplexed by his mumbles

Man’s.Telling. Him
The. Bus. Numbers
Are. Written. Wrong
They’re. Back. To. Front
A. Different. Language…
They’re. All. Wrong

…He. Doesn’t. Understand.

MAN FEELS IT’S JUST IMPOSSIBLE TO LIVE-
IT’S AGONY AND SOMETHING’S GOT TO GIVE.

For now, there’s so much Man can’t comprehend
Of One who waits to catch him when he falls.
He’s crumbling deep inside- he can’t pretend
And sensing he’s about to lose it all
But not that all’s restored by just one Friend:
Man’s eye can’t see nor Man’s ear hear His Call

This is a moment that together Man
And his new Friend in time come to transcend.
Yes, God can save a searching, crashing Man
Just when he feels he’s reached the very end.
The only thing I ask is that the actor/narrator notes the intention of the rhythm and punctuation and if the person producing the video decides the image of a person is shown saying the words of the poem, that the person looks at the camera as appropriate.

REMEMBRANCE OF THINGS IMPERFECT, by Boris Glikman

It is the middle of a sunny summer day
I am running down the stairs
quickly and excitedly, with my neighbours following me.

We all want to see the Sun
It just fell down in the front yard
I saw it coming down like an overripe cantaloupe,
staining the sky with sticky, succulent golden juices.

There it is,
lying on the ground,
a giant orange, trampling the grass it landed on,
squirting its warm essence all over our bodies.

The neighbourhood dogs are running around,
barking at this strange visitor.

I approach it warily. I touch it.
It is warm and beautiful,
glistening in the mid-noon light.

I remember well the feelings of amazement, incredulity,
inexplicable joy overwhelming me
and the comical expressions of confusion
on the faces
of my neighbours.