2015 Poetry Winner – Jane Gill Wilson

The Poetry Festival is proud to announce its 2015 Poetry Winner.

They will now have their poem made into a film.

Paris – The Atrocity 13th November 2015 by Jane Gill Wilson

The Poetry Festival is proud to announce its 2015 Poetry Winner.

They will now have their poem made into a film.

Paris – The Atrocity 13th November 2015 by Jane Gill-Wilson

Gunfire out of nowhere
Bullets ricochet,
Blood shed in the city
On another Parisian day.
Eyes closed in anguish
As the shocking events unfold,
There is no rhyme or reason
As evil takes control.

Armed with Kalashnikov’s
On their killing spree,
Intent on ending life
As victims start to flee.
Mayhem in the city
Bodies on the ground,
Echoing explosion
Causing carnage all around.

The unfolding horror
An onslaught of war,
Is a crime against humanity
One the world abhors.
A nation now in mourning
Struggles to comprehend,
How lives were extinguished
Brought callously to an end.

Holding hands together
United we must stand,
To eradicate the evil
Infiltrating our land.
Drastic measures needed
As time is running out,
The future of our children
Should not be left in doubt.

©Jane Gill-Wilson 2015

Watch the Poem performed by actress Maya Wolosyzn:

I’m Sorry, Poetry by Jaco Potgieter

Standing in the ashes of my sorry I dream of what could have been.

Looking at the grey and black I wonder about what came first and last.

How it would have been if I spoke or remained silent a little longer.

What this moment might have looked like if I did more or didn’t do.

In this now exist only the scarred and broken remains of what if?

Touching the torched wood of our togetherness, it crumbles to nothing.

Genre – Dark, Hurt, Love, Painful, Relationships, Sad, Redemption

I’m Sorry by Jaco Potgieter

 

Standing in the ashes of my sorry I dream of what could have been.

Looking at the grey and black I wonder about what came first and last.

How it would have been if I spoke or remained silent a little longer.

What this moment might have looked like if I did more or didn’t do.

In this now exist only the scarred and broken remains of what if?

Touching the torched wood of our togetherness, it crumbles to nothing.

 

Dusty maps in my hands of roads traveled brings no peace, they end here.

Then I cry at the joke of it all, the tortured reality of the path of destiny.

 

I’m sorry.

 

I use the fragments of what should have been to clear a new path.

Then I summon myself to this home of catastrophic annihilation.

I scoop up the remnants of us from the debris with my hands.

I bow my head and with my tears water the green seedling of our new creation.

 

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Sing Anew, O Freedom, Poetry by Jonathan Baltzly

O, hark! Let Freedom sing

Of times anew, times to be

Of days forgotten, days lost

O, see her embark, taking wing

Genre: Rhyme, Political, People, Society

Sing Anew, O Freedom
by Jonathan Baltzly

O, hark! Let Freedom sing

Of times anew, times to be

Of days forgotten, days lost

O, see her embark, taking wing

Flying upon all that lives

“Joy!” She exclaims!

Dark clouds near, now disappear

Light shines in heaven

Let the earth be illuminated!

Freedom and Justice, her friend

Liberty her companion

And more gather in the skies

To sing a new, yet familiar tune.

She is not satisfied,

For Mankind has abandoned Truth,

Her closest confidant.

O, hark! She sheds tears as diamonds.

Joy continues to be silent to her cry

Happiness left the land long ago,

But has promised to return.

“O, Love! You abound in hearts and minds

Perhaps Hope will heal Mankind.”

She sighs again, with Liberty at her side

Patience shows her face;

She is followed by Grace,

And finally Strength,

The legend that trampled Evil to its grave.

Strength lifted up her voice

“O, hark! Today is the day!

Let us join once more

We may face War,

We will serve with Honor,

We will uphold Peace,

And Joy will follow in our wake.”

Freedom stood, looking to the North

“Verily, Strength has proclaimed

And lamented words heard before,

From the voice of Truth itself.”

Thus was the resurrection of Truth,

And it came forth

From the heights and depths

To reclaim its rightful place.

 

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GARDEN, Poetry by Nadya Raymond

There are dead flowers in my garden

Red ones

Brown ones

Yellow ones

Blue ones

Rotting, stems riddled with decaying passion lit in a parable of blackness nestles under clots of angelic guilt as sweet occultation-s seep through anxiety pulsating in a distant reflection of youth almost kissed by innocence embrace touching tones of tomb-ed incubust-ed bubbles of illusions

Genre: Life, Society

GARDEN by Nadya Raymond

There are dead flowers in my garden

Red ones

Brown ones

Yellow ones

Blue ones

Rotting, stems riddled with decaying passion lit in a parable of blackness nestles under clots of angelic guilt as sweet occultation-s seep through anxiety pulsating in a distant reflection of youth almost kissed by innocence embrace touching tones of tomb-ed  incubust-ed bubbles of illusions

 

There are dead flowers in my garden

Red ones

Brown ones

Yellow ones

Blue ones

Stoic, blushed in beauty entangles in amiss of darkened veils eclipsing under intense incensed lust frolicking in deep mid-night spasms wonders unto empty streets matted in cobble stone and tar

Nails bright pink, crooked like talons

Hair wrapped in mud like mesh

Lips, soft and sweet dripping like blood spewing into veins parched from centuries of slumbered a-comma-ed dreams

 

There are dead flowers in my garden

Red ones

Brown ones

Yellow ones

Blue ones

Stagnant, a dull moon pines to breathe sets in the distance over a quiet quaint quilted town on the edge exasperation cooling in the frost of solidarity straggles strolling through an unfamiliar jungle of mirrored images seeking companions hacking up raw avant-garde-ed wit

 

There are dead flowers in my garden

Red ones

Brown ones

Yellow ones

Blue ones

Benumbed in hunger, a town lives on the brink of amnesia craving for the thirst of salvation from a distilled lineage of distant lands reigning in terror over a masterpiece painted by phantoms children basking in the freakish enchantment desperately singed in sweet agony and glass masquerading in an orgy of congressional delusions

Wake up

 

There are dead flowers in my garden

Red ones

Brown ones

Yellow ones

Blue ones

Peerless, lifeless dreams creep through window panes in ashes as beads of sweat shimmer under such on intriguingly magnetic light flickering scents of sugared vanilla laced in leather and petty coats abstracted  in realms of eternal holocaust-ed fate convolut-ing in gardens whispering murmurs of secrets under banyan trees

Shhhh

There are dead flowers in my garden

Close your eyes now

 

Today’s NEW Poets and their Poetry

Read the best of NEW Poetry from about the world:

Read the best of NEW Poetry from about the world:

ASSUMPTIONS, by Denise P. Isaac: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/29/assumptions-poetry-by-denise-p-isaac/

ALONE, by Anderson Gomes: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/29/alone-poetry-by-anderson-gomes/

RED WRISTS, by Sanchana Krishnan: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/29/red-wrists-poetry-by-sanchana-krishnan/

SHACKLES OF LIFE, by Lois Terrans Bradbury: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/29/shackles-of-life-poetry-by-lois-terrans-bradbury/

DAS NICHTS, by Juan Antonio Garcia: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/29/das-nichts-poetry-by-juan-antonio-garcia/

COUNTING BRICKS, by Lee Pettengell: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/30/counting-bricks-poetry-by-lee-pettengell/

THE LENGTH OF A KALPA, Kristen Textor: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/30/the-length-of-a-kalpa-poetry-by-kirsten-textor/

ODE TO MARY, by Jordan CROMWELL: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/30/ode-to-mary-poetry-by-jordan-cromwell/

SHORT POETRY, by Vyom Sharma: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/30/short-poetry-by-vyom-sharma/

DON’T, by Eirini Spyridoula Antoniou: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/30/dont-poetry-by-eirini-spyridoula-antoniou/

 

 

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Watch Poetry performance readings:

Watch Poetry made into Movies:

Read the best of 2016 Poetry from around the world

FREE POETRY CONTEST – All entries get their POEM shown on this website. AND, you can submit your Poem to be made into a video (guaranteed 1000s of view): https://festivalforpoetry.com/

FREE POETRY CONTEST – All entries get their POEM shown on this website. AND, you can submit your Poem to be made into a video (guaranteed 1000s of view):  https://festivalforpoetry.com/

Read the best of NEW Poetry:

VOICE OF ADDICTION, by Chantelle Cherie-Cox
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2016/01/16/voice-of-addiction-poetry-by-chantelle-cherie-cox/

THE A.M., by Mazi
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2016/01/16/the-a-m-poetry-by-mazi/

ONLY A MATTER OF TIME, by Coni Koepfinger
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/24/only-a-matter-of-time-poetry-by-coni-koepfinger/

HEART SHAPED BUBBLED, by Hillary Bryan
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/24/heart-shaped-bubbles-poetry-by-hillary-bryan/

GHOST OF MY LOVE, by Mandar Naik
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/25/ghost-of-my-love-poetry-mandar-naik/

MEMORY, by Tzoutzi Mantzourani
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/25/memory-poetry-by-tzoutzi-mantzourani/

THE PROBLEM WITH LESTER, by Damian Christopher
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/25/the-problem-with-lester-poetry-by-damian-christopher/

STRANGER IN LOVE, by Poetes Chantelle Cherie
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/26/stranger-in-love-poetry-by-poetess-chantelle-cherie/

MOON LIGHT, by Jennifer Martinez

https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/27/moon-light-poetry-by-jennifer-martinez/

MINNIES LAST MOAN, by Helen Spisak
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/27/minnies-last-moan-poetry-by-helen-spisak/

THE SECRET LIFE OF A SHADOW, by Mahitha Kasireddi
https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/27/the-secret-life-of-a-shadow-poetry-by-mahitha-kasireddi/

 

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The Secret Life Of A Shadow, Poetry by Mahitha Kasireddi

Claim you know them?

All the life forms?

What if I told you,

Of another class alive?

No, Don’t fetch, my pal,

Genre: Fiction, Life, Relationship

The Secret Life Of A Shadow
by Mahitha Kasireddi

 

Claim you know them?

All the life forms?

What if I told you,

Of another class alive?

No, Don’t fetch, my pal,

It is only one

And one for all

The tier of a moving car,

Rising smoke of a cigar.

Like the battered wheat dough.

Turns into anything

Intangible, faceless being

Can’t fit into a case,

Or a tightly chained cage

Look at you,

Foolish to capture a vestige!

A phantasmal silhouette

Cast on the curtains

Against the moonshine of a winter night

Gather some guts to tear it down

With a mighty stroke of a knife

Look, it appears behind your trembling spine,

Enlarged, contracted

Slid and disappeared

Isn’t it taking you for a ride?

 

 

Don’t draw any sinister plans

Your wisdom, sorry

A major shortfall.

Why do the gravest of crimes

Happen during pitch dark times?

A faint column of light brings in a witness,

Records the ugly sins of a poisoned conscious

If you are still wondering

What is so fluid as wine,

thin as air, quick as a butterfly,

Like a feeble water bubble,

Refuses to go invisible.

Let me reveal to you

To your own,

For a quite long time now,

The unacknowledged chapters

Of the secret life of a shadow.

-Mahitha Kasireddi

 

 

 

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Minnie’s Last Moan, Poetry by Helen Spisak

Be true to yourself the people say
But then there’s chaos and sighs of dismay.

Treat others and all that ‘jazzzzz’
The trouble is – I detest ALL jazz!

GENRE: THE ART OF MOANING. Rhyme

 Minnie’s Last Moan

Be true to yourself the people say
But then there’s chaos and sighs of dismay.

Treat others and all that ‘jazzzzz’
The trouble is – I detest ALL jazz!

I’m irritated and show it full hilt

I could moan on You Tube with no fear and no guilt.

My saving grace I cannot be sure
My heart and soul are cleaning the floor.

My funeral commences and the organ groans
My goodness, I wish they’d retire tuneless Joan!

Poem by Helen Spisak
@helensays
 

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Stranger In Love…., Poetry by Poetess Chantelle Cherie

Late night on the I can’t sleep train… It just keeps going Nowhere Fast and Time Is not of essence unfortunately. The only thing I can think is Write a Write of Feeling that stows upon me this evening. And so with Her Magical Pen and this in heart she began ~

Genre: Love, Romance, Loneliness

Stranger In Love….

Late night on the I can’t sleep train…  It just keeps going Nowhere Fast and Time Is not of essence unfortunately. The only thing I can think is Write a Write of Feeling that stows upon me this evening. And so with Her Magical Pen and this in heart she began ~

Stranger things have Happened I must Say. It must lead to something greater than the unknown I pray it leads me straight to You and You to Me anticipation it has killed me before I feel it’s different this time though….. Beautiful?! One might ask: My Reply is only this to you, Beyond Beautiful He is  indeed but of this you would only know if my eyes were yours for a moment in this time to see just as I see He. Stranger things as said have happened indeed. Scared? Yes!!!! Terrified if I must add, Not of One Another But of Each Self and what we both harbor. “What If” we just gave up He on I and I on He “What if” I don’t want that to be Our Goodbye; We Just Began this journey him and I  “What if” Is not in Our Stars so why  are we Fighting A War Within  knowing The outcome of Our own self Battle Neither one of us has yet to win. I give you this very day the key to my domain my Sacred Place Very few have ever been allowed in please remember they don’t make duplicates be cautious yet gentle what your holding Is beyond repair if ever broken or filled with despair. One last thing I must write on the lines of your Soul, so if ever apart you may hear them whisper upon every beat of your heart: Not by Accident……Coincidence Agreed! Only Angels hear the tears of pain we cry the ones that fall from our eyes and flood our souls beyond our control… Perhaps we pained simultaneously that day for we may never know how our story was told only how it’s supposed to read: You ~ Me ~ Our beautiful destiny.

Copyrighted 2016

Written by: Poetess Chantelle Cherie
Keep Calm
Write On

 

 

 

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The Problem With Lester, Poetry by Damian Christopher

It was clear Lester was an old fool
Perusing that which is Delphic
In vain attempts
To seek divine forgiveness
For a sweet tooth for sin
And maladies of every nature
Only to give invitation to fear
And impercievable things
He will never know
Nor comprehend

Genre: New Goth

The Problem With Lester
by Damian Christopher

It was clear Lester was an old fool
Perusing that which is Delphic
In vain attempts
To seek divine forgiveness
For a sweet tooth for sin
And maladies of every nature
Only to give invitation to fear
And impercievable things
He will never know
Nor comprehend

The fool,
Blind to his folly
In pursuance of the impish and profane
In time, discovers their true associations
And maledictory nature
Injurious and virulent
He is soon bedeviled
To an eternity of futile pursuits
And a congregation of shame

The fool,
Mute to the whispers of the trees
Cries of the wind
And counsel of wild things
Wages wisdom for lunacy
Peculiarly, the selfish loon
For his vessel is perverse
Habitual in enduring disgrace
And he is forever weary

The fool,
His fate, kismet quelled
For there are those
That lay eyes upon us
Regardful our every deed
For the the price of redemption loss
In the hands of the damned
Is their baneful inclination

The fool,
A slave to his every whim
Devoid of prerogative
And sweet reason
Clever in his naiveté

But moored by dark, grave principalities
Like a hoary beast of burden
Fallen from grace
Even unto his last days
In misery, He shall amain in vain
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