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Read Poetry: how we unfold love from the moon, by Nosakhare Collins

Lover…..

This is how to unfold love from the moon;
you seat close-by in your crux divan
watching your mouth and hands sleek into praise
into momentum desire that has blossom into revelry
you look up sky as the stars crosses your eyeballs
perhaps which one of them has heart to love;
glimpse the eye to ponder into felicity
but this is how love unfolds from the moon;
you seat right close to your lover
help lifting the hands up to the sky
where the moon unfold love into your river part
then wait as the moon fondle his way into you
crawling his love into your heart
flowers and gift of different kinds
as the flowers and gift break into blossom romantic
clumsy and holding memories with lit candle light
as songs broken into lyrics in the face of moon night.

Poet: Nosakhare Collins

About me—

Nosakhare Collins is a budding Nigerian poet, writer, literary critic and a tutor. He is a student in the Accounting department of Ambrose Alli University, Ekpoma–Edo State. His works including book reviews has appeared and are forthcoming in anthologies, journals and various literary outlets which include Sevhage Reviews, Antarctica Journal, Least Bittern Books, Dwart Magazine, Youth Shades Magazine, WRR (words, Rhythms and Rhymes) and so on. He is currently working hopefully towards his chapbook (a collection of poems). He writes from Nigeria, and can be reached through his Facebook: Nosakhare Collins, Twitter: @nosa_collins, Instagram: nosakharecollins

Read Poetry: Just, you.., by Marc Libidinsky

…coffee…bitter for the day;
Sweet as your smile;
Creamed with your words…Wake up,
Sleepy Head…

…a hug…for the bitter day;
Affectionate nibbles;
Sounds, more convincing than words…A hug,
Lady Bug?

…talking in your sleep…not finished with the day;
A tender kiss on your head;
Our tomorrow can wait…Dream true dreams,
My love…

Watch the DECEMBER 2017 Poetry Readings

Poetry Reading: NEW WEBSiGHT, by Vihang A Naik

The Bane of Whitechapel – Poetry Reading by Lee A Forman

FRUSTRATION – Poetry Reading by Patricia Marvin

Escape – Poetry Reading by Farzleen F Khan

Beautiful Dead Dragonfly Why – Poetry Reading by James Gaynor

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

COMEDY Best Scene Script Reading of VENUS HATES MARS, by Ricky Long

comedyfestival's avatarComedy FESTIVAL

Genre: Comedy, Romance

Logline: Told in a specified three act setup, we take a humorous and dramatic look at three separate couples trying to maintain their seemingly odd relationships…

CAST LIST:

NARRATION: Vanessa Quagliara
Angela – Fiona Mongillo
Preston – Peter Nelson

Get to know the writer: 

What is your screenplay about?

In a trilogy of interwoven stories, three 30 something Atlanta women struggle to maintain their complicated relationships.

What genres does your screenplay fall under?

I would classify this tale as a romantic dramedy.

Why should this screenplay be made into a movie?

I feel the universal theme of love and happiness combined with rich, real, and relatable characters will be a hit with audiences.

How would you describe this script in two words?

Two words to describe this story is Funny and Real.

What movie have you seen the most times in your life?

  Hmm, I have…

View original post 221 more words

COMEDY Best Scene Script Reading of LIFE COACH, by Sandy Basran

comedyfestival's avatarComedy FESTIVAL

Genre: Comedy, Romance

Logline: A young Indian male’s shaky self-confidence with women leads him to enlist an immature but fast talking co-worker as a life coach and friend who ultimately helps him break free from a manipulative girlfriend who threatens their friendship.

CAST LIST:

NARRATION: Julie C. Sheppard
Sandy – Peter Nelson
Harry – Trevor Marlatt
911 Operator – Katelyn Vanier

Get to know the writer: 

1. What is your screenplay about?

 It’s about two young men finding what each had been lacking: a genuine and amusing friendship that arises unexpectedly from the throes of a manipulative romantic relationship, shyness, selfishness, self-pity and an inkling of insecurity.

2. What genres does your screenplay fall under?

Comedy.

3. Why should this screenplay be made into a movie?

It’s funny, relatable and inexpensive to make.  Well, I’m not sure of the last reason.  I want to believe the first two.  The humor…

View original post 388 more words

Read Poetry: Eerie Sea, by Patrick Turner-Lee

Awkward silence: the peace a violent under performing scream
Slicing cobwebs from the ceiling 
Feelings crumble in just about time to make the clock

 

Busking bravely to earn a crust
If you must
Bust the bank with crowbars to get an ounce of sense
Not media just a fact for frustration 

 

Break in glass slippers: Just bits left behind 
Never mined the shattering; illusive, baking hot, tin roof reason.
Flat you lent is parting the cheeks
Flapping the wind swept alleyways of leaves.
In the eaves flicking seaweed at the passers by.

 

Clever tricks never opened the window to let in some air
As if we care
As if we fidget when poked with a sharp prick
A needle in the vein
A sharp instrument to flush the chained up latrine
Obscene and relentless

 

 

November 28th 2017

Read Poetry: Poem by Anthony E. Perillo

Oh, the whispering night,
The whispering night.
How softly does it speak
Of twinkling stars,
And pale moonlight,
And the rustling of the leaves.

Now it makes no sound
As it gathers round
All the things that earth contains.
While its soft caress
Leads the heart to rest,
Where the gentle stillness reigns.

From the realm of the day
Where King Hectic holds sway;
The night comes as a foe.
Brandishing its cloak
All of ebony smoke it
Sweeps the harshness away.

And the clouds as they glide
Past the moon in the sky
Make a candle aflickering
It seems. As if to remind
The deep darkness in time
That the sun in the heavens still beams.

Oh, the whispering night,
Oh, the whispering night,
A melancholy caller is he.
Though he sometimes brings dread;
When we’re snuggled abed
It’s as cozy as cozy can be.

by Anthony E. Perillo

Read Poetry: Blood Manner Panache, by Robin Carretti

Everything was playing so “Gusto”

Like he became Heavenly blood brothers

“Maestro” at the London Metro.

Having hotter than hell fling

But people were more than blood things

Feeling like a substitute or big “Hero”

What happens to some of them

they weren’t waking or O or B- cups

drinking

But a style of panache

The style of grace or disgrace

showing deeper how it cuts

like the “Reaper” all circumstances

Fewer but true redder romances

the evidence got flown away

but miraculous something has to give

Like a stewed “Hungarian Goulash”

miracles time for hot fetishes

You just felt eclat what a cliche these Vampires and

their maidens. With the raw bite of her bodice

styles were becoming. But a bigger blood manner

was moving toward her so risque

Dances storing more blood trances

of a repertoire

Their necks were suffocating watching another

lover was mating like a web server

“The Others” were sleepwalking deserter

Like another language takes over

a code talking nevermore

Back to life a style forming another soul

to capture, but the wrong type of blood

failure whats to prevail?

Like self-murder so red

Vampire’s attached bloody email

Some were at the spa-like looking wolf-like

howling that strip of a face peel

so habitually like blood uses

The best collection of blood choices

So mainstream another erotic dream

Like a style or seeing hot gesture

So popular stream forevermore

At the concert, he noticed who she was

Knock dead bloody Tis the holiday features

That maestro what style Panache

Like a french Brulee bite of toast

He was the hot bloody roast he

got her blood the most

Read Poetry: Via De Cristo, by Marc Libidinsky

I watch You pray upon Your knees

In the garden of Gethsemane,

And hear Your voice, both sure and meek,

Travail in earnest agony;

Still, wondering at Your sweat and blood –

Is strength in this and is this love?

I watch in silence as You stand

In silent protest, a just man;

Watching, see a man so wracked,

Without help, so attacked,

Until death brings some peace,

If not a just and sweet release.

I watch the faithful lay You down,

Anoint with myrrh Your bloody brow;

And, one by one all disappear,

Fearing as the night draws near:

Yet, with the morning mourning flees

As You ‘rise and bring sure peace.

Your Grace is strength and purity;

So, when I wonder at its reach,

From Heaven’s height to Calvary,

From life to death to victory,

From first confessions to the last;

I find Grace equal to the task

Your crucifixion posed to me,

So bare my cross as pleases Thee.

(c) Marc Libidinsky, 2017

Read Poetry: Too many questions, too little answers, by Juan Miguel Idiazabal

All things said and done,

I’m still looking through the shattered stained glass for a solution,

a brighter day may come,

but unless I tune my ears,

it will fade away,

like a little sister who drowns in tears of despair,

her pink bunny transformed into a dildo,

her dildo transmutated into a womanizer,

her womanizer turned into a confessor,

her confessor converted into an A-bomb,

her A-bomb changed into tears of despair,

like a little suicidal sister who drowns in sweet virginal blood,

a real solution for imaginary problems?

an imaginary solution for real issues?

The world keeps spinning round and round,

a week ago, thousands of children died of hunger in Africa,

six days ago, another Qom cried because he/she was no longer free in a democratic country,

the next day, 5 CEOs moved the clock down to extinction for marlins close to 0,

four days ago, nothing happened?

three days ago, another one bite the dust while sending a tweet,

the next morning, police raided a theatre looking for drugs, while a judge bought it in the courthouse,

yesterday, 523,245 million dreams and hopes fade away,

today, a little sister was sodomized, while I was writing this poem,

an answer knocked at my door,

I wasn’t the proper question for it,

she went back to the world crying in despair,

no one believe the story we told,

she bleed herself alone and ashamed to death…