Category: Poetry Festival

Read Poetry: Back Speaks, by Patricia Biela

made

of

unbreakable

bone

and

flesh

like

binding

for

book

pages

and

hard

cover

i

work

with

arms

to

clean

bobby’s

socks

sally’s

slips

vertebrae

and

i

harmonize

blues

The ideas for this poem was derived from “The Migration of the Negro (The Migration Series)” by Jacob Lawrence, Panel No. 57. exhibited in The Phillips Collection, Washington D.C. (May 3 – October 26, 2008) and located in the books Jacob Lawrence and The Migration Series from The Phillips Collection (odd numbered panels) edited by Elsa Smithgall and in Over the Line, The Art and Life of Jacob Lawrence edited by Peter T. Nesbett and Michelle Dubois. Currently, the 60 panel of artwork, portraying the epic event of southern African Americans migrating North, is shared between the Phillips Collection (odd numbered panels), Washington D.C. and The Museum of Modern Art (even numbered panels), in New York.

Bio
Patricia Biela is a native of Maryland and is a UVA grad with a BA in Psychology. A first generation American, she is of Angolan and Haitian descent. Biela is a Cave Canem South Fellow and has participated in 18 writing workshops including Callaloo, Cave Canem South, How Writers Write Poetry–International Writing Program-The University of Iowa, Hurston/Wright, Provincetown, and Dr. Tony Medina’s Poetry Boot Camp. Her poems appear in Barely South Review, Berkeley Poetry Review, The Caribbean Writer, Drumvoices Revue, and World Haiku Review among others. She has a poem exhibited in Epiphany Salon and Spa, Washington, D.C. Biela has editing experience, and has written over 25 articles, some of which appear in Brainworld Magazine and Funds for Writers—Writing Kid. She is a third generation educator, teaches poetry workshops to retirees, and to other adults. Biela is honored to be in the Duke Young Writers’ Camp teaching family. Her poem, “Please Leave a Message” can be found on CD Baby, iTunes, Apple Music, iHeartRadio, Spotify, Napster, Google Play, and more

Read Poetry: FiVe YeArS aFTeR, by Sara Thomas

You were born
Five years after
I was broken,
And you grew
Inside my emptiness

I loved you
From day one,
I kept busy
With your neediness

I held you
Close to me,
I was scared
Of my fearfulness

You grew up
The years flew,
You were tired
Of my sadness

You were smart
The world your oyster,
I was embarrassed
By my unworldliness

You became a man
The pride I felt,
Gave me strength
In my loneliness

You grew old
At last you
Understood me
And I could rest
In my peacefulness

#parenting #love #loss #family #mental health #poetry #life #peace #forgiveness #acceptance #childhood #relationships #identity #grieving #hope #growing up #mothers

Read Poetry: Grief is the price we pay for love, by Abi May

I screamed today.

A silent scream.

Nobody saw.

Nobody heard.

I clenched my fists

And breathed in deep

A silent scream

Nobody saw.

Nobody heard.

There were no words.

None to speak

None to say.

I closed my eyes

Shut them tight

My face was creased

And stretched

Muscles tense

But soundless

My silent scream

Came from the heart

From a place so deep

There are no words

I didn’t cry

I just bore down

I screamed alone

Without a sound

There is no why

Nor where and how

For what, it can’t be said

But for whom.

I screamed today.

A silent scream.

For her, that dearest one

The one who now is dead.

Theme: Death and bereavement.

From Abi May – http://www.avalleyjournal.co.uk

A poem I wrote in one of the moments of deep grief. Both of my children (Pax and Catherine) have passed away before me. A mother’s worst agony is to bury her childre

Read Poetry: Confessions, by Lizardin Bain

You say I’m pretty. You say I’m kind,

But does it ever cross your mind,

That you’re being awfully abusive.

 

Of course, it doesn’t. Why it should?

The nicest words they never could,

Hurt anyone or be intrusive.

 

And people think so, and my brain,

It tries to cope, but all in vain.

My heart prefers to be preclusive.

 

You sing those tunes without a care,

You fail to see that I can’t bear,

The notes that sound to me illusive.

 

I understand that I am flawed,

But all I see is brutish fraud,

Who is as rude as he’s delusive.

 

I do not trust when someone says:

“I fell in love in three short days.”

It’s highly doubtful and allusive.

 

Your words are brining only pain,

They are constricting, like a chain,

And I can hardly take your glee.

 

But you’re urging me to stay,

And not allowing me to say,

My desperate, urgent plea.

The anger hops up to the front,

You end up sliced. You end up burnt,

You cuss, you spit, you flee.

 

I ‘m left alone. I’m left unbound.

Denied a voice, denied a sound,

Like cursed, unwanted sea.

 

I curl inside. I close the door,

Refuse to roar and feeling sore,

I throw away the key.

 

And I am failing to confess,

And I am failing to express –

How love confessions hurt me.

Genre: love, relationship, hurt, another point of view, confession, sad

Read Poetry: Notion, by Lucrezia Mancini Nardi

Once thin skinned like orchid petals all
frustration was mistaken for tears.
Then resilience took over so to cry
only having the feeling of no amend.

So far bones resounded metal cold,
lack of nearness is not about fears
but to save weeping for better times,
trying to roll over any sign of dead-end.

Whether eyes or not drops come from
They’re salty stories and may reveal
promises made to oneself but unkept in life
like the notion tears fall not at our command.

– I own all rights to this poem –

Lucrezia Mancini Nardi

Read Poetry: At a Glance, by Joyce Villeta

When I thought I had it all
Trouble came and made me fall
I stripped myself from finding love
Not from men, but from above
I held joy inside my womb
I chose to end it way too soon
I never even had a chance
To think it happened at a glance
Devastation hit me hard
It was my choice; I chose the card
That led me to my biggest fear
The one that never lets me hear
The sound of peace cause I have none
I’m blinded, lost, there is no sun
It’s gone; the road ahead is rough
It’s time for me to say enough
I can’t forget the sight of when
I cried because the pain won’t mend
So here I am thinking of you
A year ago, I still feel blue

Read Poetry: Curse Coffee Cups, by Andrew Green

Curse the coffee cups and spoons
The yellow fog, the window panes
Curse the dying of the light
Curse the rage against the night.

Curse daffodils, satanic mills
Pleasure domes, the albatross,
Comparisons to summer day
The last man in, an hour to play.

Curse roads divergent in a wood,
The knock upon a moonlit door
The airman’s helmet and the hawk
Painted women and their talk.

Curse Gunga Din, curse Kubla Khan,
Curse the Tiger burning bright.
Curse Dulce Et Decorum Est
Let Drummer Hodge not find his rest.

Unstop the clocks, unmuffle drums
Forget the honey with your tea.
Forget the grin of bitterness,
The look of rooms returning thence.

Forget the friendly bombs on Slough
And men in brightly lit canteens.
Curse the damns of your content
The crumpling floods that force a vent.

Zero hour will never come,
We won’t ride a merry go round
Or Whitsun train that’s late away.
We won’t be naming parts today.

Stop the cannons, stop the charge,
Stop Hiawatha in mid song.
The eye will simply look on glass
It won’t look through; it shall not pass.

No knock kneed men will cough like hags
Three will never meet again.
Blood stained hands will be washed clean
And woods won’t come to Dunsinane.

Too many words crammed in my head
The rhythms dance, the cadence strong
I need new words to call my own
My head rings with another’s song.

Read Poetry: Our Solar System by Kurt Chambers

The moon shines so very bright,
especially on a crisp clear night.
The Sun is big and very hot,
and also covered in little spots.

Mercury is indeed quite small,
against the Sun it’s a tiny ball.
Venus is cloudy like a rainy day,
but much too hot to go out and play.

The Earth is blue and warm and nice,
and this is where I spend my life.
Mars is next and oh so red,
but there’s no life, it’s completely dead.

Jupiter is the biggest of them all,
but it’s just a giant gas ball.
Saturn looks cool with its enormous ring,
It’s the solar systems ultimate bling-bling.

Uranus always gets a laugh,
but it really isn’t quite that daft.
Neptune is next upon the list,
with its almost invisible disc.

Now we’ve come so very far,
from our friendly yellow star,
we come to Pluto which some do say,
is not a planet anyway.

Read Poetry: “The Craft” by Benjamin Hare

All those who wander should beware,
Because no soul is safe inside their mind;
Never look into the terrible stare.

On the night of the moon’s most devious glare,
Stay in your dwelling, soundly confined;
All those who wander should beware.

The damned ashes of lost forebears,
Eyes of vengeance and malice, better off blind;
Never look into the terrible stare.

Candle smoke and deafening pulsations penetrate the air,
Like a mortar and pestle, an axe to grind;
All those who wander should beware.

Venture out only if you dare,
But be enchanted, impossible to unbind;
Never look into the terrible stare.

And if you see them, say a prayer,
For the theurgic beings are the supremes of mankind;
All those who wander should beware,

Never look into the terrible stare.
“The Craft”
All those who wander should beware,

Because no soul is safe inside their mind;
Never look into the terrible stare.
On the night of the moon’s most devious glare,

Stay in your dwelling, soundly confined;
All those who wander should beware.
The damned ashes of lost forebears,

Eyes of vengeance and malice, better off blind;
Never look into the terrible stare.
Candle smoke and deafening pulsations penetrate the air,

Like a mortar and pestle, an axe to grind;
All those who wander should beware.
Venture out only if you dare,

But be enchanted, impossible to unbind;
Never look into the terrible stare.
And if you see them, say a prayer,

For the theurgic beings are the supremes of mankind;
All those who wander should beware,
Never look into the terrible stare.

Read Poetry: Cracks in the Sidewalk, by Irene Leland

When the cracks show in the sidewalk

The one that links your home and mine

I will know our love is breaking

And another path I’ll find

And when the hill begins to flatten

The one where we now often play

I will know our love is lessening

And I will go another way

Now I know smooth roads can be shattered

And mountains can be beaten down

Love can also lose its meaning

As though it never had been found

But if a mountain’s high and mighty

It can stand the greatest storm

And if a highway’s long and lasting

It will keep its stable form

And if a love is like that mountain

It will rest within the sky

And if a love is like that highway

It will forever lie!

But we never built a highway

And never climbed a mountain high

All we have is a sidewalk

And a hill on which to sigh

So when the cracks destroy that sidewalk

And the hill’s been trampled on

I will know our love has ended

And I will be gone…