Category: poet

Poetry Reading: Heaven Cried Too by Ty Davis

Poem performed by Elizabeth Rose Morriss

Get to know the poet:

What is the theme of your poem?

The theme of the poem is family/emotional.

What motivated you to write this poem?

The passing of my Grandmother in 2015. She passed a day after my birthday, February 26th. It rained that day and snowed a bit. Pretty much the whole week leading up to her funeral, the weather was like that. But the day of her funeral the sun was out. I guess she had a warm welcome that day.

How long have you been writing poetry?

This is really like the second poem I wrote. I not really a poet. I wrote a poem a little before that called “No More Mr. Nice Ty”, it was like the opening of a short script I wrote of the same title. I thought it was sorta wack though.

If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?

I’m not really trying to have dinner with a zombie, bro. I don’t know. Maybe the old Kanye.

What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?

I got email out of the blue about submitting a poem. This was like the only poem I’ve really had. I’m writer battling writer’s block right now. Maybe my Grandma and my fam that I named in the poem knew I needed some inspiration and trying to align the universe up for me.

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

Yeah, the short script I mentioned earlier. I’m working on a pilot and feature right now.

What is your passion in life?

Writing, storytelling , creating. Just being able to create characters and come up with storylines. It’s like having a whole universe in your head. Right now I’m just trying to figure how to get it out.

Poetry Reading: CONGO, CONGO by Miroslav Atanasov

Poem performed by Elizabeth Rose Morriss

Get to know the poet:

What is the theme of your poem?

The Congo Free State crimes and the continual suffering of the Congo people.

What motivated you to write this poem?

I’ve passionately wanted to share the Congo story with the world.

How long have you been writing poetry?

Off and on for 12 years.

If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?

Jesus Christ

What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?

Your Great festival platform.

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

Yes. One movie script on the subject. Also I do scholarly writing and media commentaries.

What is your passion in life?

Helping people. Especially in Africa.

Poetry Reading: RISE AND BE ONE WITH THE SHINE by Gloria D. Gonsalves

 Poem performed by Elizabeth Rose Morriss

Get to know the poet:

What is the theme of your poem?

Inspiration, motivation, courage and mindfulness.

What motivated you to write this poem?

I wrote what I felt would encourage anyone experiencing dark times.

How long have you been writing poetry?

Over 10 years and I’m still learning every day.

If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?

Maya Angelou. I would thank her for continuing to teach me how to make myself heard using the eloquence of simple words.

What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?

I dislike public performance. So your platform is the right place for me to co-share the skill of writing and performing with someone else.

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

I have published books on fantasy/adventure/educational tales with moral lessons. In the published portfolio is also a novella and anthology of thoughts. For anyone interested to know more, I am giving free books to visitors on my website.

What is your passion in life?

Inspire and invoke positive changes with my writing.

Read Poetry: Never give up, by Awodirepo Olabayo

When Ink fails the writer
The ballpoint refuses to roll.
When the sheet isn’t looking better,
And some words are missing on the scroll,
Oh! How unfortunate are the readers!

When the motivational speaker runs out of words
Air refuses to pass out through his bucal cavity. When all he could have is vocal without
chords
And a deep touch of boring words with no sanity.
What a loss for the depressed and discouraged!

When the greatest singer of all time runs out of lyrics,
The best rapper can’t just get two lines to rhyme,
The builder becomes scared to touch the bricks
And the fastest man runs out of time.
What a funny tragedy has struck the surface of the earth !

Fill up your Ink o writer
Pick up some better pens
For the readers are waiting.

Wake up o motivational speaker
Be filled with the right utterances
For the depressed are dying.

Come back alive o singer
Be filled with melodious songs of hope
For some hopeless hearts are weeping.

Get your lines right o rapper
Cast away your fears o builder
For on you, many are relying.

Be strengthened o runner
I tell you it is not over
To win is your calling.

#Awodirepo_Olabayo
#speaking_thoughts
#spoken_word_poetry
@Profjosh21

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Read Poetry: The Others, by Amanda Beyer

 There are people with purpose. People who know what they are supposed to do. They have dreams, they gave goals to achieve. There are lazy people. People with no dreams. People who just get by…..and then there are others. Others who have dreams and goals to HAVE dreams and goals. To feel appreciated, to feel needed. Your words to them are daggers, more than most. One incling of failure and they are utterly defeated. But…you don’t see them, even as one, I don’t see them. They are Others. I am an other…and you don’t know. Others hide, praying to found, yet rarely are. We laugh, we cry…just like you….but we are not. We are different. Your words resonate within us so deeply we drown……Emotionallly, physically, spiritually….for the others, every day is the day we need to catch our breath, every anxious thought is an excuse to get out. Every cry for help is debilitating….every conscious thought is paralyzing…. Everything is other….we are other. I am other….and you will not understand.

 

 

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Read Poetry: Leave It, by Patricia J. Dorantes

May the clear touch of rain
Wash away for good the fog
That left your soul
Unable to see the stars.

Break into small pieces that pain
Whose chokehold drowned you in smog.
You deserve to recover what they stole
In the most bitter of the wars.

Close your eyes, young soul.
Let all the bitterness go away.
The night is covering you.
Relax and feel safe now.

Never forget that you are in control
Of what happens to you every day.
If you want to leave behind that dark hue,
Deep inside, your heart knows how

 

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Read Poetry: Congo Congo, by Miroslav Atanasov

CONGO, CONGO

Congo, Congo,
foreign land​
I hurt for you​
you’ve caused me pain.
Your tale’s gloomy,​
your story’s sad​
it makes me angry​
it makes me mad.
My heart is broken​
I don’t know why
now that I’ve met you​
I want to cry.
A king desired you​
from far away,​
he lied, he cheated
knew how to sway.
That evil genius,​
that greedy scum,​
a worthless creature,​
an awful bum.
He wanted rubber​
to make him rich​
he had no mercy​
he was a witch.
He took you over​
for profit’s sake,​
to him you were​
a slice of cake.
Kidnapped you children​
enslaved your men​
then raped your women​
and robbed your land.
At home he told them​
how good he was​
a Christian civilizer​
with a noble cause.
But in your jungles​
the ugly truth:​
he did not spare​
even your youth.
Your hands, oh, Congo​
were severed off​
and stacked like garbage,​

like useless cloth.
In Belgium palaces​
and wealth like flood​
success tremendous ​
paid with your blood.
O, king, how could you​
commit these crimes?​
You had no conscience,​
you filthy slime.
Your country loved you​
but didn’t know​
your evil nature​
your brutal show.
They have forgotten​
whence their gold came​
how it was stolen​
and have no shame.
They built you statues​
what a disgrace!
They minted coins​
with your ugly face.
Leopold, you devil​
now burn in hell!​
We never want​
your foul smell.
Oh, Brussels, Brussels,​
please, do repent!​
The blood cries out​
from Congo’s land.
Thank you, missionaries​
and Ed Morel​
you told the world​
of Leopold’s hell.
The night is gone​
and morning came​
but we remember​
the awful shame.
Today, oh, Congo​
you suffer much​
while Brussels proud​
and not in touch.
Your people flee,​
they seek escape,​
from war, from murder,​

from violent rape.
Forgive us, Congo​
we knew you not​
now we are meeting​
in life our lot.
We promise Congo​
to pay our debt​
to help your children​
to give them bread.
We pray for blessings​
on your great land,​
oh, sweet Congo​
we pledge our hand.
We love you Congo,​
We’re now your friends,​
We’ll tell the world​
to make amends.

Read Poetry: Adultery, by Jan Franz Macaso

but yours and mine
which (should) now (not), is (be) known–
like planks placed for fences
was the day we’
ve decayed of
bodies both yearned
those termites–no,
they did not
cause our
feet into crumble

 

 

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Read Poetry: Boot Camp, by Stan Grimes

Genre: Life

Eighteen,

hot summer in Kentucky

we marched the hills

like soldiers do

counting cadence

counting days

counting ways to kill

shouting ways to kill

eighteen is young

shaved head and black boots

spit shined like a mirror

Vietnam in front of us

high school prom behind us

kill little men in pajamas

screamed the big monster sergeant

never seen one before

I trembled

that hot summer day

been trembling ever since.

 

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Read Poetry: Fragile Heart, by Penny Wilson

Genre: Love

This Fragile Heart I give to you, 
To do with, as you would do.
 
Demons from the past have made me hide
And deny the love I have inside.
 
So Take this Fragile Heart with Care
And all the Love waiting there.  
 
— Penny Wilson

 

 

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