Category: Poetry Festival

Comfort Me, by Saar Arreola

I hav a body
I hav a soul
But I’m not of this world
I don’t belong
People are tainted
And mislead
I’m always gonna be wronged
Where’s the love and compassion
Where’s the kindness and joy
Theres jus death and destruction
Unfairness, corruption, and pain
Why not end my life
And reclaim it for my own
I can’t even see what’s in store for me
I can’t get past this mess
That I continuously see on the TV
With all the assholes that cause the fuckery
My mind gambles with
Who’s gonna be next
Will it be me?
Or my trans friend next to me
Who’s life will be stolen
By the hands of another human
Being human disgusts me
This is not my kind
Humankind is being both
Condescending at the most
I don’t get it
It hurts me everyday
Why the hate?
WHY THE HATE??
So I transcend myself
And make my body my own
Agender and proud
To call my body my soul’s home
But I hav to confess
I’m a mess
Why live
Wen I’m going to die anyway
Why go thru this pain
Jus to get thru another day?
Why not jus take my own life
Turn off my lights
So I can go to a peaceful place
N let all the pain fade away
This is selfish
So they say
But in the end
All I hav is myself
So y can’t I do this?
I’m scared
Regardless of my death wish
Wat would happen after I die?
I don’t want God or my family
To think I’m selfish
Or a failure
I don’t want to go to “hell”
But what does the pain n sadness in my heart suggest?
Why live with a mind full of distress
Idk
I can’t see what’s in front of me
I can’t think clearly
I don’t know how to do life correctly
I’m aging day by day
Slowly wasting away
Is this wat u call being grown up?
So why do I wait and procrastinate?
Why can’t I do and say things right?
I feel like a waste of space
I feel like why even try
Wen everything I do turns out wrong
I can’t predict the future
I can’t see the end result
How can I go from point A to B wen the path is unknown to me
Take it day by day they say
But procrastination takes place
Then what?
Priorities are a must
It’s hard to make up my mind
Idk what I really want in life
I feel dead inside
N all the bad things I c
Increases this feeling I hav in me
I’m weak
I’m weak
I don’t know how to go about life with this feeling
I know
I need help
But even with help
I can’t see how it’s going to work out for me
How do I change my way of being?
How do I change my thinking?
How can I be more than who I am now?
How can I make my family proud?
For the first time in my life
I need God to comfort me.

Genre: LGBT, Hate, Dark, Sad, Death, Purpose, Life, God

Slow Motion, by Hannah Else

Genres: Love, philosophical, relationships

If I’d only one wish
I’d wish for time.
For all our hours to roll into none
so we could finally bask
in the glorious moments
for longer than they last.
I’d want the minutes to never start
or stop. The tick of a clock to be lost.
So we could be one, never-ending,
continuous love.

eyes on you, by Brooke Nind

trying to fly under the radar doesn’t work out
when you can’t squeak by without a squeak
you feel invisible most of the time, yet you
draw the most attention to yourself with these
little, insignificant movements of your body

the squeaking of a chair in class as you shift your
weight from one side to the other, or try to sit up
straighter; it brings eyes to your blushing face
that no one’s looked up at in a while

we’re not always noticed for the things we’re
proud of, but we’re often noticed for what we’re
embarrassed of. however, there’s also these
little in-betweens- you’re just living and breathing,
and you’re noticed. isn’t that comforting?

Genres: inspirational, hope, society

link: https://myhighschooladventures.travel.blog/2020/03/14/eyes-on-you-poem-by-me/

Read Poem: The Journey, by Sneha Bhatt

Nothing in this world you own,
Not even your flesh or bone.
What can you give when you are unknown?
The journey you take is always alone.

Why then are we loitering here?
Why then do we have companions dear?
Why even commence this expedition at all?
When the periphery wall stands always tall.

This voyage is to assimilate experiences rich,
To accumulate them for next journey switch.
Bestow empathy, love, compassion, featherlight your soul,
For that’s the only way for the next better journey to enroll.

– sneha bhatt

Read Poem: THE CHANT OF A DIGGING ROYAL, by Sarra Culleno

My spade knocks against rock while gardening,
a speck of promise from a surface scratch.
More than a stone; composed, profound, sparkling,
it could be dislodged using skills I match.
It gleams, it glitters tantilisingly,
requiring little attention from me,
with my small fingers deft enough to claw,
my nails just long enough to loosen more.
I imagine it now mounted in gold,
over my larynx and under my jaw,
to give my voice credence when I get old.

Blast booming din kills.
Cacophony shakes.
The earth’s core unstills.
Gravel and clay takes
my treasure. Earthquake’s
violent vibration
ends aspiration.

—-
Sarra

London born and Manchester based, Sarra Culleno is a poet, mother of two and English teacher who performs at poetry events across the UK. She writes about children’s rights, motherhood, identity, gender, age, technology, the environment, politics, modern monogamy and education. Sarra is widely published. She features in many podcasts and radio shows, and was longlisted for the Cinnamon Press Pamphlet Prize. Sarra co-hosts Write Out Loud at Waterside Arts, and has performed as guest poet at numerous literary festivals.

@sarracullenopoetry – Instagram

@sarra1978 – Twitter

Sarra1978@hotmail.com – Email

facebook.com/sarracullenopoetry – FaceBook

Read Poem: Commence!, by Kohava Ray

Slowly our Spring creeps forward, cautiously approaching;
Ancient joy embraces us!

Reborn is not only for them, we share their body
Tree put forth rootlets, patiently grounding;

All life tests and savors all kinds of weather,
The dark nights still clasp them tightly, yet still they never forget to restart the day;

Green is the color of Go!
We say, why not?

image

Read Poem: Until We Meet Again, by Yurasil Canaan

I can recognize his voice now.
He left his odor on me. I still feel his hands caressing my body.
His soft lips pressed against mine.
Talking to him calms me.
He has managed to do the one thing no one has ever done, he makes me feel safe.
I can spend hours laying on his chest, I’ll never get tired of that.
His brown eyes and stupid smile gets me every time.
I love it when his strong dark skinned arms hug me.
His arms are covered with tattoos.
Tattoos that tell the pain he has been through.
I can stare at them for hours, like reading my favorite book.
We spend hours talking and I hate talking to people.
He gives me the confidence I need.
But I stay away, I can’t let us get too close and yet we are.
We are not afraid of each other.
It scares me that he is everything I ever wanted.

Read Poem: Answer meets question, by Carissa Putriziandra Finneren

You asked me a question.
What do I love?
Love
Love
Love
How can I answer this
As if
What I love exists outside of me
Externally?
Internally I feel a sunrise3
Every time I open my eyes
Light grows through time
Lids close and the sun sets
Into many lands of the same name
Dream
Its here I swim in Your seas
Reconstructed memories
Rare moments of lucidity
Fluidity in specks of stars imploding
Showing
Movie after movie
Sometimes it moves me
Other times it leaves me
With a feeling
That I can’t quite explain
Or the question,
“what in the world was that all about? Meh, who cares?”

It’s the kind of love that you haven’t been waiting for
Because you’ve been too busy living through it
Breathing through it
Working reworking It as if you think you have a hold on it
Sometimes you can’t even sit because it’s so strong
Stepping closer to that
Unable to truly reach this
Because your hands grasp for something that is invisible
Yet ALL around you
Flowing through you
Oh! Its blocked.
Hah! Now it’s unblocked.

The kind of love that you don’t ask “more” from
Give me more?
No
Because everything is enough
All is enough
It’s what was really needed

So you ask “what do you love?”
I think the answer folds itself into the question
In all forms
Actually visible too
Extending over norms
Lives
Lies that have revealed truths
Your eyes
Freedom to decide
Because this life is a ride
So hold on but not too tight
Family, friends, sunshine, good wine
Pen paper time alone
But never really
Music, art, nature
Scientific mystic
Don’t be so realistic that you missed it

Mind to mind
Body to body
Heart to heart
Taste after taste of
Grounded spices simmered for paste
Kunyit, bawang putih, cengkeh being gently firmly grinded on stone

It’s all written on there
Our destinies
Revealing itself through epiphanies
Whispers of Your mystery
Showing clearly
That Love is not meant for me
Hiding from me
Nor punishing me
It is me

But not all the time

Sometimes the doors are closed
Even though it holds heavens

In those moments I accept
Another layer
Seeing
Feeling how love exists within each one
So again you ask “what do you love?”
Again I reply,
The answer folds itself into the question

Read Poem: The Light Never Dies, by Marc Anthony S. Sison

One sad afternoon,
I don’t have any rations to put in my spoon,
I am one of those poor youth,
Who is scared and destitute.

I’m sitting in our living habitation,
Musing about the disease that caused these hard situation,
Today, the morning is over,
Still God, My shield, my weapon and my power.

It was dark and quiet around,
‘We are suffering’ is what I hear with a scary sound,
Covid19, are you angry with us?
Oh common! To kill thousand of people is not your task.

I immediately close my eyes,
Looking for the rainbow in the storm you brought us,
My God, hear my plea,
Give us solutions against this agony.

Oh My light, where are you?
You should stay because we still need you,
Life is useless if you will vanish,
And everyone’s lives might perrish.

As the birds fly,
This disease will also die,
This morning, when you wake up,
Everything will be fine so don’t give up.

The sun will appear,
All is well, my dear,
The light that was stolen from you,
Again, will be returned to you.

Read Poem: Dessert Storm, by David Murphy

In this surreal, quirky, and inventive poem, a young girl runs through a storm desserts, and she arrives at the confectionery where the proprietor offers her a selection of stormy sweets.

Suzy was just seven, and when vegetables made her sickly
She had to run and race to the confectionery quickly!
Down came rain and hail, and in blew wind and snow,
Near the purple mountains appeared a colorful rainbow!
Then ivory marshmallows fell from the sky like rain,
And all the clouds above were whipped into meringue!
The distant boulders turned to huge crumblings of cake,
While the nearby reservoir became a cocoa lake!
Through the dessert storm, Suzy forged on to the treats,
Where the kind confectioner helped her to the sweets.
“In peculiar times like this,” said he, “A sweet will change its name!
It joins with stormy weather, although its taste remains the same!
Here, my dear, we have cannoliclones and churrocanes!
Sugarsqualls and strudelfalls!
Here the tortenados and tart-typhoons
Surround us like a wild monsoon!
We have ambrosialanches and dangerous fudge slides
That have been tumbled down the mountain sides!
We have coconut cakequakes and chocolate cupquakes
And a tiramisunami that once devastated a land—
With its sweet coffee flavor and its ladyfingery savor
There was no end to the mascarpone demand!
We have solar éclairs that will brighten a day
And a dust-devil’s food cake to blow you away!
We have erupting baklavolcanoes and a shaved ice storm,
A maple barrage and a torrential sundaeluge—
Still the dessert that you want, my dear, depends upon you!”
“I think,” said Suzy, as outside, honey drops began to fall,
“I think, that I would like to have just one of them all!”

—
David Murphy
http://www.davidlandonmurphy.com