Category: poet

(W)Ri{gh}t(e), Poetry by Tim Rizzuti

 Genre: love, choices, humanity, integrity, emotional, deep

Moments of clarity
Lead to temporary insanity
Where is my plan to be
How do I get to the next degree
Of life
Is it as hard for everybody else
Or do I have it easy
Should I be concerned
With my mind
And the state it chooses to be
Do I need medical help
Do I need holistic healing
Do I need my wife to stand by
Pray to god for a feeling
Or a sign
That everything will be alright
That everything will be alright
Writing helps the emotion
Seep throughout my brain
Down my spine
To my chest
Arm
Hand
Fingers
Pen
Ink
Page
Now the stage is set
All I need to do is

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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JFK, Poetry by Nets L.

Genre: Political
Type:. Haiku

Titled: JFK

Hollowed footsteps
rhythmic death
stamps you dead
While processional silence
tunnels through the brain
carriage wheels
click stones loudly
through the shadow
of a man

Nets L
@netsy01

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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 all a-twitter, Poetry by Persis Karim

Genre: Rhyme, Society

what’s all the twitter

from the tweeter

who can’t take the chitter-

chatter about the possibility

that he might be the cheater?

persis karim ©2016

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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HER CATASTROPHE, Poetry by Rachel O

 Genre: RACE, LOVE, INTERRACIAL ROMANCE

Her catastrophe will lead you to ecstasy

Her Pain will teach you empathy

Her sorrows drain your sympathy

While her strength will challenge you structurally…..

Her caress will linger with your distress…..

have you begging for her to undress,

All, as her eloquence clenches to your very chest

Whilst you strive for that bounty we call his breast…….

She gazes at us all and requests

a simple retrieve,

from the bundles and loads and cosomos she holds

However, rarely seeking the latrine

Life’s Salient Saline…

Ever Silent as a stone, We a mixed bag of souls, as she boldy holds the bones of your erroded domes…..

And her breath will cast your energy……..

But will you recall at her eulogy?

Logged in you minds etymology?

Her androgynous antiquity?

Her grace spun like tapestry?

I quarry, will you even remember me?

 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Sense of Time, Poetry by James Williamson

 Genre: Society

Time…

It never ends.
It never loses.
It never bends.
It never chooses.
Who to take.
Who to give.
Who should break.
Who should live.

Time…

Constantly goes away.
Constantly brings tears.
Constantly here to stay.
Constantly forms fears.
Fears of today.
Fears of all sorrow.
Fears of dismay.
Fears of tomorrow.

Time…

Holds no sense of self.
Holds no sense of existence.
Holds no sense of wealth.
Holds no sense of resistance.
Resistance from age.
Resistance from dying.
Resistance from rage.
Resistance from trying.

Time…

Builds wisdom within.
Builds beauty without.
Builds forgiving of sin.
Builds surety of doubt.
Doubt of finding peace.
Doubt of heaven above.
Doubt of wanted release.
Doubt of finding love.

Time…

Is made for reflecting.
Is made for giving.
Is made for projecting.
Is made for living.
Living for where time will take you.
Living not for where you have been.
Living with hope for the coming of new.
Living for it all making sense within…

Time.

By:James Williamson

 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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I’d Write You, Poetry by Nubi Vagant

  Genre: Love, Romance

I’d write you the stars, I’d write you the sky

I’d write you the rivers, That never run dry

I’d write you my heart, I’d write you my skin

I’d write you with red, Flowin’ infinite layers within

I’d write you my senses, My crumbling defenses

I’d write you my soul, My dark to black hole

I’d write you my breath, I’d write you my scent

I’d write you eternity, And every moment spent

I’d write you my love, I’d write you my lust

I’d write you my worship, Everything in gold dust

I’d write you in time, I’d write you in space

I’d write you a now, And a forever in grace

After all I’ve written, So much would still remain

I’d write myself to you, In pleasure and pain.

© mizzlenubivagant ( 17th March, 2016 )

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Sixteen Weeks, Poetry by Ene Elizabeth Adeka

 Genre: life, love, death

A tiny mound of flesh, as harmless as the sparrow’s egg
forged out of love or lust
the deed was done and so I came to be.
In my pulsing cocoon I lay
an unknown visitor devoid of sight, flight or fight.
Soon my cocoon of shelter will change in readiness for my arrival
and I am looking forward to my birthday
as with ecstasy I long to gaze upon the faces
of those whose loins I was forged out of.

I hear voices and a gruff voice says “stigma”
I wonder if it is my mother’s name or my fathers’.
Too many voices but it seems we are going to see the doctor.
My infantile mind says that must be my father’s name
but why does Stigma and Doctor seem to me an unusual combination?
Though I can’t feel, each part of me fears this trip.
Even though I am yet to meet these strangers I hear
My little feet try to break the barrier between my world and theirs
and yet my hands stay folded unwilling to stretch out and help.

I was forcefully ripped and torn apart
hacked to pieces by one whose honorable name
is engraved on a metal plate somewhere on a hospital door
In my prime, gone before my time
bud in flame, nipped in society’s name
A genius waiting to be unveiled turned voice of an aborted future.
The deed that made me ashen cold now lies somewhere in a plastic bin,
sent to a distant land by the hands of those who forged me
never to return from my errand.

My passing was celebrated with two cups of tea
and a smile of congratulation from Doctor to Stigma.
Before my ears were gone, I heard them call me fetus and
wish me a happy birthday.
My name is Fetus, I am sixteen weeks old…
How soon they forget me, their nameless, faceless, lifeless child.
But a voice says to me, can a woman forget her sucking child
that she should not have compassion on the child of her womb?
Yes, they may forget, yet will I not forget you.

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Be my Muse, Poetry by Vincenza Maria Mastrangelo

Genre: love

“Be my Muse,
Let me poetize about you.

Rivers and oceans of words are flowing from my heart and you’re a masterpiece of nature.

Be my Muse,
Let me lose myself in you essence.

My heart,body and soul are like an orchestra playing a concert for you.

Be my Muse,
Let me die writing about your beauty

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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Hold Me While I Say Good-Bye, Poetry by Wendy

Genres: Love, Pain, Hurt, Romantic, Relationship

This is probably the last time you would see me
With my eyes closed and my breaking heart.
I won’t be blocking your way from here on
I just want you to hold me while I say good-bye.

This is probably the last time you would hear my voice
With my eyes closed and my breaking heart.
I won’t be calling you or asking how you were
I just want you to hold me while I say good-bye.

This is probably the last time I will smell your cologne
With my eyes closed and my breaking heart.
I won’t be holding your hand or hug you when it is cold
I just want you to hold me while I say good-bye.

This is probably the last time you would see me cry
With my eyes closed and my breaking heart.
I won’t be wiping your tears whenever we fight
I just want you to hold me while I say good-bye.

This is probably the last time you would hear me say ‘I love you’
With my eyes closed and my breaking heart.
I won’t be pinching your cheeks and leaning on your shoulders
I just want you to hold me while I say good-bye.

 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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