Performed by Carina Cojeen
Category: Uncategorized
Read Poem: TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY, by Chidi Nwosu
tomorrow is another day.
your bird flew away,
let it be.
there’s no hunter who
never missed;
and no farmer who never lost.
it is the way of the world.
the redness in your eyes,
is enough to roast yams.
and it came from the furnace
of your burning soul.
let it fly.
i’ve seen radiators overheat.
your red eyes is a red alert.
pressure mounts on your soul;
and an engine is about to crack.
let it fly.
Chidi Nwosu
Inspirational,Motivational
Read Poem: Her Confession!, by Thomas Jones
Yes I’m angry but do you even care
Time and time the pain I didnt want to bare
All I was searching was a smile
But instead I found this list that lasted a mile
Name after name instance after instance
I know why you started to provide that distance
Fuck me right or that’s how it seemed
Not even on my worst day could this be something I dreamed
Guessing this is what I deserved right
Dealing with this nonsense our future not looking so bright
Gathering space in the internal realm of my mind
Being nonchalant to the disrespect completely blind
Tried giving my all but then again how could I
Staring into your hard blank wishing this debate would just go by
Wanna know a kicker to all of this
There was one waiting on the downfall ready to supply bliss
Different day new song a whole new beat
The new, ready to go to battle never accepting defeat
Sadly i wasn’t looking recruit another
My savior was your love but you didn’t care to cover
Call it bullshit but you still must admit that truth
Guarantee they promise to keep the issues under our roof
Too many times I heard those stinging NOs
Meanwhile it was an cop out so you could be on the go
Well baby here’s your walking papers you are FREE
With all the emotions and logics I tried sift through I apologize for not being the wife you felt I needed to be
Read Poem: The Haven, by Lawrence Mathebula
In a safe place,
Where I want to be
Living my happy days
Surrounded by family;
A multitude of hands,
Oh the daily
Hours until the end
Passes and tomorrow early,
When it begins again.
She only needs a Man.
Is she a woman enough
Grown up;will never turn,
When I need her nigh to love
Unto my crying soul?
Children, in that too
Them counted oh a whole
Lot of us, even you.
In a safe place
Accepted;undenied
Her love’s struck pulse solace,
Me ‘gainst the storm and tide,
When it begins again.
I only need a woman,
A lovely careful mother
Behind created plans.
I’ll follow it as a father
Tolerating, getting older.
Read Poem: FIDDLE IN THE SOUTH WIND, by Neo Amakievi
dear south wind
one day we will linger under the sun
my aching heart,
let us one day make music
curing all the inner cancers
melting this pain like a candle in a fireplace
like the south wind, blow me to the north
make me fly with no wings
make me fiddle the wind’s strings
twiddle, twiddle, fiddle
dear south wind
let us make music under the moon
where crickets dance at our presence
like Gaelynn and Alan fiddling in this moment of bliss
let us face the truth of our past, dear heart
spreading our souls like blankets to keep warm
on this tiny desk where minds are drunk on love wine
my aching heart
let this wind bear us up on lofty heights
and on it, we will forever fiddle tunes
we will forever twiddle off this fume
nothing will come between us
when this wind carries us away
to the future I yearn for…
(c) Edwina ‘NEO’ Aleme
GENRE: Hope, Love, Fear, Relationship, Heartbreak
Read Poem: The Tale of Mark, by Jacqueline Mead
There lived a young lad called Mark.
Who lived by himself, under a bridge in the Park.
By day he would wander around, alone.
He was lost and lonely with no place to call his own.
Mark, though, had a magic trick.
He could play a good tune with a couple of old cans and a pair of drumsticks.
By day Mark would set up his show.
Tin cans, his drumsticks, a few lights to create atmosphere, give a bright glow.
As the day turned to night and the sky began to turn red
Just as young children were going to bed.
Mark would play his tunes on his cans.
It had the sound of a large marching band.
People would gather around in large crowds.
They would gather in all weather, sun, rain, grey clouds.
People would listen, clap, sing a long, generally being very loud.
People started to leave money in a hat on the floor.
Mark was hoping one day to have enough to rent a place with his own front door.
For now though Mark was happy as he was, by day he was still alone. This gave him time to think, maybe he would add a saxaphone.
Perhaps a cymbal or two, maybe a harmonica strapped around his neck and a few bells attached to his shoe.
There was no end to Marks talent, his fame grew far and wide
Mark remained down to earth, not full of pride
Mark earned a small fortune, enough to buy somewhere with his own front door
Mark didn’t think he could ask for more.
Mark longed for someone to share it all with, by his side
When one day, out of the blue,
Mark was feeling lonely again, but now he had nothing to do
A young girl happened to knock on his door
She was carrying some samples of a carpet floor
Mark invited the young girl in
Bought all of her samples, which put the girl in a spin
Mark invited the girl to stay for a while
While he explored his purchase of carpet tile
They talked and they laughed, until it was very late
Then Mark cooked them a meal, served on a plate
They devoured the meal swiftly and then had some fun
With the meringue, cream and floured bun
Now Mark has a young Wife and several small children by his side
Young Mark is grateful for his lot
And often puts on free gigs, for the homeless, in the Supermarket parking lot.
GENRE: Humour, Storytelling, Love, Family, Society
Read Poem: THESE ARE THE BLUES, by Marianna Gerrman
Idly sitting by the fire…cigarette in tow,
drawing smoke rings in the hazy air,
disappearing…and reappearing once more.
Thinking of you and me, chiding each other
about this or that…
Why is it, that there’s a fine line between love
and loathing? I’d like to know, I’d like to know.
Wishing you were next to me, at this precious moment,
while I’m here loafing around, doing absolutely nothing.
Combing my hair, counting one, two, three…to be, to be and be.
Thinking I should read a book or listen to a radio’s forgotten melody.
Wincing at my own image in an age old mirror…oh how old
do I look now, younger, older than my years, let’s hope
my eyes deceive me.
I can’t stop pondering that I’m about half way done with life,
or it’s about half way done with me.
Oh what’s to be done about that….
Nothing, absolutely nothing. Or anything?
I must be grateful to be still breathing and….walking, as often
As I like to, every other day, especially on weekends, in the park. Or
just being able to watch people and birds and trees…
Life is so different now than oh so many years ago,
it’s all so je ne sais quoi….
And yet I’m thinking the same old idle thoughts as in the good old days
or maybe they’re different, they must not be the same, they must.
You’re saying I should do more with my life,
Like somebody…..like Piaf perhaps with “Je ne regrette de rien…”
No, I don’t have any regrets, though some days I do,
and what of it. Everybody does….so I like
to do nothing at all, maybe not make a mark at all,
though I desperately WANT to….
I want you to say, “It’s okay.”
But you stay silent….
October 3, 2012
Read Poem: Flipside of the Familiar, by Bob Eager
Flipside of the Familiar
Mr Authenticity Bob Eager
About time to meet the Other side of the coin,
Under the surface topic revealed..
Relatable Subject matter flipped on its tails head.
Now Floating in regular view—-
Discussed now readily and available for mass consumption,
Beyond comprehension but necessarily openly stated –
No longer kept a hidden underground secret ;
Now the unearthed topic has finally been fully realised with …..
Just got its just due and now fully approaching a congregations celebratory lips.
Sound familiar maybe?
Generated by its upturn.
Go figure this Abstract concept just got promoted to the forefront!
Obverse or Converse route–
You Pick!
The End!
Read Poem: PRISON OR HOME?, by Laye Da Writer
Confined to these desolate walls
Waiting for the day they make a releasing fall
Always thought it was my mind trapped
Feeling this glass ceiling tapping completely capped
Released for hours at a time day in and out
Listening to my soul have its internal cry yet no external shout
Save me from the pit I’m slipping into will you
Sadly you can’t because you know not what I must do
No warden no bars no alarm
But mentally to me it’s crippling causing harm
Any ounce of a smile snatched away with the slight thought
Bringing fun here couldn’t even be in my wildest thought
Come on it can’t be that bad right
Here take my shoes prepare for this flight
No ease of woosah in the moments of need
All of it sucked up in the wickedest way of greed
How can I escape is what you ask
I’m hoping you standing on the outside can help with the task
Free me from the dread walking through the gates also my threshold
If the walls could talk not a tongue would they hold
Once looked as my paradise but viewed now as my end
Spirit broken by the entrance when only meant to bend
What joy does it bring to mind
Because even Jesus got out a wicked bind
I just want the caged animal to be released and free
Rewarded with love and empowerment being the best, best can be
Tired of carrying this fight will you save me
They’ll never see what I saw or feel this
Either I’m walking out or burning my burdens
In the end one was captured walks away to close the curtains
Interview with Screenwriter Simon Kelton (Eddie the Eagle)
It was a joy chatting with the screenwriter one of the the hit films of 2016 in “Eddie the Eagle”. Simon talks about the process from development to distribution of the film, plus shares a lot of insights on screenwriting . Enjoy!
Interview with Simon Kelton
Matthew Toffolo: What motivated you to write the screenplay for Eddie the Eagle?
Simon Kelton: Like any Brit who loves the mountains I already knew a lot about Eddie’s magnificent adventures at the 1988 Winter Olympics in Calgary. After graduating from Oxford University, I had set up a ski company in Chamonix, France, to pursue my great passion for skiing and was so inspired by Eddie’s bravery and wild ambition that I ended up competing in the British Snowboarding Championships and World Extreme Snowboarding Championships in Alaska. Like Eddie I was over the moon just being able to watch my heroes doing what they did…
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