Read Poetry: A Forgotten Scent, by Curls

A flower fussed her scent in the vast of a drought field.

Craving to lure an amusement that surely will strengthen her built.

Leers peculiarly to subjected attraction yet moans an impassioned lilt.

She naively guarded herself with her own thorns to feel the comfortable guilt.

Stagnant cycle of season slithers past her unascertained heed.

Leaves, petals, and even her stigma flourished brightly to be curtsied.

Rattled by edginess by mused idea of affection grunts harder to concede.

Utterly unaware with those luxuriant insects who meanders around quite honeyed.

Kismet turned dearly frazzle as her stack’s delusion and realization bleaks to morose.

Professed stipulation to weave off shadiness of other insect to propose.

Her gorgeous blades started to cloak as her desire substantially discompose.

Hatred consumed her entire sense that even her resented fragrance fizzles as overdose.

A moment clinched as she confined herself while lurking inside her sepals.

Felt sudden annoyance to the bizzare guise of the wild flowers acting like crystals.

“No bees, butterflies, nor bugs shall descend on how you ramble.” she jabber thus bestial.

All smirk shifted to fiery glare as she expresses mockery dry down and dull.

Colony of bees roamed fully while she rested deeply in her own stems of lair.

Awakened by the empathetic drone then made her furious even if it’s just to stare.

Witnessed the riot over some nectar that she ever dreamed expression to be fair.

“I am dazzled with beauty, glamour, else perfection. Am I not attractive enough?” she begged to differ.

Miserably hid in silence to avoid the spikes forming in her cold dark heart.

“Enticing yet delicate” blasted by the butterfly whilst completely amazed by her come apart.

Startled by the curious gesture which also made her feel uplifted and continued to impart.

They both felt the strangest and strongest connection implicates that something is yet to start.

The butterfly spent his day to twaddle, gawk, and make her smile with just a distance close by.

“It’s my pleasure to see you bloom, finally.” He divulged. “Come closer.” She excitedly imply.

“I can’t.” he muttered as his face immediately explicit fear, anxiety, and inability to try.

Tension arises as her in-depth wrath constantly spoiled as her stutter outcry.

Day after day, the flower regrets the harsh doubts that made him left without a trace.

Weakened as the eroded damper enchants her entire system to wilt due to haze.

She began to slowly incline and shattered every hope to another phase.

Shock bonded her eyes as she sees the deteriorating familiarity deface.

Unaware that she liberates toxic nectar that harms other insects to death.

All of those who attempted and falls by her enticing scent will soon lose their precious breath.

Around her were diversified possession formed as a tragic beautiful wreath.

All of them will soon be forgotten just as how dust gasts in the isolated brooding heath.

~Curls

12/24/17

Genre: Sadness, Death, Love, Fear, Anxiety

Watch the NOVEMBER 2017 Poetry Readings

Poetry Readings performed by Val Cole & Carina Cojeen

The Bane of Whitechapel – Poetry Reading by Lee A Forman

Maybe, There Is Still Hope – Poetry Reading by Melissa R. Mendelson

INDIAN SUMMER – Poetry Reading by Vihang A Naik

FRUSTRATION – Poetry Reading by Patricia Marvin

Escape – Poetry Reading by Farzleen F Khan

Beautiful Dead Dragonfly Why – Poetry Reading by James Gaynor

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read Poetry: HALFWAY TO SOMEWHERE I DONT WANT TO GO, by Number 43

Genre: Travel (England)

Missed connection
an hour to wait
Walk a circular mile
No beer house in sight
Minutes take hours
Another cigarette
Red diesel fumes
Sickly sweet perfume
Chopped ham and liver
Grantham

Read Poetry: Image of a Rustic Girl, by Aju Mukhopadhyay

Who could bring dry wood
from the wood
once the rain would start?
For fear of getting them on her head drenched
the wench ran under the darkest clouds overhead
gnashing their teeth sounding like fart
threatening her safe journey to homestead.
Steady and alert
quickly to come out of the wood
she ran faster than her mood.

It was nothing but a play
among the rain and the cloud
with the damsel and the wood;
but she was an elf, gossipmongers say
(c) Aju Mukhopadhyay, 2017
Category: Romantic and rhyming

Read Poetry: Conquer The Fear, by Grace Mavodza

Face to face,
No, face my mind.
Looking within
The dark abyss.

There she lurks
My other half.
Her eyes glow red.
A piercing hue,
That burns right through my inner core.

As she glides across my mind with ease
Hairs stand on end,
Cold clammy skin,
Goosebumps appear
“Lord help, please hear!”

Must face her now.
Must face my fear.
The inner demon
That lives within.

 

————–
Genre: Fear, Conquering fear, darkness, facing inner demons

Read Poetry: Young Heart, by Hala Emad 

genre: Romance, Sad

 

The Bonbon

He took it with him with all the candies

Someone has to tell him, because

The bonbon is what this little girl owns

And whose her shadow only belongs

To his shadow, as the place she dwells.

 

He took the sugar,

The dream in green color,

My little toy, the beaker

And the tea’s flavor

Leaving jealousy for the boiler

Who when got jealous, did fritter.

 

He took my red flower,

The shells around my mirror,

My barbie doll, my laughter,

The feast scent and savor,

The dream that I just did texture,

My lipstick and my eyeliner.

 

He took the chocolate and its magnitude,

He embittered by his absence and solitude

Its beautiful taste and attitude.

Someone has thim: “I forgot any rude”,

As well as I decided to grow up not screwed.

By: Hala Emad

 

Read Poetry: “Sleep No More”, by Kim Michelle Ross

Sleep evermore my love,

Your betraying lies,

Unhinged and broke my heart.

It was the blackest day,

At the brightest hour,

When my love finally soured.

Your despairing pleas,

Failed to sway my forgiveness.

Bang, went the gun, it had to be done.

Splashes of red my only recall,

I did not care, love was no more.

My regrets numbered none.

I’m glad you’re dead,

And but a fading memory,

Yet, I will sleep never-more.

Read Poetry: The Words I Spoke, by Jordan Corley

Genre: Love, Hope, Life

I waited patiently for the world to follow
To adjust
To reset
And comprehend what I had just said
I gave myself the same courtesy
A minute
A day
Maybe two to process their meaning
They weren’t anything special
Nothing spectacular
Nothing memorable
The words that left my mouth
But something felt right
A click
An acknowledgment that maybe
just maybe I was meant to say them
They were meant to be heard
I waited silently for the world to follow
To stop spinning for a second
For just one moment
As I let the words leave my lips
Free my tongue of their grasp
Their power which clung to my thoughts
Through sleep– no sleep
What is sleep when these words are present?
In my thoughts
Always
Through daylight
And menial tasks so often required
To sustain life in this world
To feign sanity
Wrought by a wavering focus
They were nothing to be remembered
Really
Anything but important
To the outside observer
To a distant onlooker
But perhaps that’s why I remembered
The way they felt as I spoke
Why I recited the time
The place
The date of which I said them
Over and over
And over again
In my head
The breath that came before and after
I opened my mouth
The pause between each word
Each syllable
To ensure perfect deliverance
Perhaps that’s why they’ve stuck with me all these months
All these years
Later
They were honest
The last words I said to you

Read Poem by Oceana

Genres : love, hurt, revenge, spiritual, philosophical

No Right

You have no right to ask how I am
And no right to an answer
No right even to the thought occuring
Or the breath that bore it
That breathed our moment
In vengeful violence
Spitting and seething spite
In dark deluded condemnation
Of everything you claimed once right.

You have no right to the friendship
That you beat up
And threatened death to the life that bore it
But unabashed and unforgiven
You assume it
Say you don’t need forgiving
He was due it
You’re the master and there’s no chance
He could ever do it.

You have no right to claim regret
No right to say you are sorry
When to every other face is a different story
Where malice remains the prince amonst principalities
And you justify revenge with vivid stories
With you as the chosen one
With you enlightened and not undone.

You have no right to claim to see the truth
Or to be it’s living example
To uphold yourself as one of the few
Yet in the face of everything
This is what you do.
To god and yourself you must justify
Delusion that you can’t deny
Only you can answer why
Only then you cannot lie.