Poetry Reading: The Ruins, by William P. Robertson

Performed by Matt Barnes

 

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Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com

Director: Kierston Drier

Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne

Editor: Kimberly Villarruel

Camera Op: Mary Cox

Poetry Reading: Part Conversation with Homlo, by Bhekuzulu Khumalo

Performed by Matt Barnes

 

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Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com

Director: Kierston Drier

Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne

Editor: Kimberly Villarruel

Camera Op: Mary Cox

Watch the MARCH 2018 Poetry Readings

Performed by Elizabeth Rose Morriss

Poetry Reading: The Fisherman, by Robin McNamara

Poetry Reading: If You Could Fix Me, by Melissa R. Mendelson

Poetry Reading: Tears For You, by KG Petrone

Poetry Reading: 03:00, by Selah J’ne

Poetry Reading: Fell In Love With You, by Kathy Scott

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetry Reading: Fell In Love With You, by Kathy Scott

Performed by Elizabeth Rose Morriss

Get to know the poet:

1) What is the theme of your poem?

How I met the love of my life

2) What motivated you to write this poem?

The love that I feel for him

3) How long have you been writing poetry?

Since I can remember (Knee high to a grasshopper)

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

My Mom again

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

Hopefully to find a publisher of my poetry one day

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

I’ve tried but all I know is poetry

7) What is your passion in life?

Writing and making people smile

Poetry Reading: If You Could Fix Me, by Melissa R. Mendelson

Performed by Elizabeth Rose Morriss

 Get to know the poet:

1) What is the theme of your poem?

They say that what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, but what about the pieces, the scars left behind? What about the harsh memories that chase you when you try to sleep at night or the absence of time that you need to heal, and do we fully heal? Or are we just damaged beyond repair, wanting to be fixed, but knowing that we can’t be, no matter how hard we might try, but we still try, which inspired me to write this poem.

2) What motivated you to write this poem?

“If You Could Fix Me” was written years ago during a time when I tried to pull myself back together again. All I could see were the scars, wondering if they would ever go away, and if the damage could be fixed. The poem was originally longer and more raw, but I revised it and cut it down. And then I added it to my book of poems called, “Fragments of Yesterdays Past.”

3) How long have you been writing poetry?

I have been writing poetry since maybe eighth grade. I used to write a lot of poetry, but these days, I write more short stories.

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

Stephen King

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

WildSound has always delivered on their performances, giving voice to my words.

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

I have been writing a lot of short stories recently, and some of my stories have been published by Sirens Call Publications and Dark Helix Press.

7) What is your passion in life?

Writing first, Photography second.

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: “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.