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
Category: Uncategorized
Read Poetry: PEACE BE STILL, by Ngozi Osuoha
peace, why drag supremacy
And fight for superiority?
Why crush silence
And break thine sheath,
That we remain at war?
You waylay unity
And make skulls, your crown
You ambush growth
And arrest development,
Peace, why hate thyself
When you are a gem?
Barefooted, you wander afar
Thirsty, you stand aloof
Hungry, you sink beyond
Lonely, you stray away
Peace, why art thou gone?
Come, peace come
Return, O peace
This earth is broken
This world is bruised,
Come, heal the air
Come, sweep the land
Return, O peace,
Peace! Peace! Be Still!
CLEAR HER DILEMMA (2)
An art so wondrous
Divine in every sense,
A creature so elegant
Creative, gallant and immaculate.
The bravest of creation
Smart, strong and sound
Loving, caring, lovely, careful
The woman, a little god.
Homemade, homemaker
Groomed and grooming
A confident confidant
A loyalist and a faithful
Submissive, calm and resilient.
Pure, genuine companion
Quiet, honest giver
Fair, jealous lover
Godly, decent soulmate.
Save her the drama
Heal her the trauma,
Clean her the stigma
And clear her of the dilemma.
PROFILE
Ngozi Olivia Osuoha is a Nigerian poet/writer, a graduate of Estate Management with experience in Banking and Broadcasting. Her first longest poem THE TRANSFORMATION TRAIN published in Kenya is available on amazon. She has published over eighty poems in over ten countries.
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: “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: OUCH!, by Andrianne Philippou
Ouch…!
This comes as no surprise, you see
I always felt this had to be.
There is a certain path you know,
a way to learn, a way to grow.
For here the road is split in two,
one track for me, and one for you.
So as I walk, my steps unsure,
I stumble slightly, sometimes fall.
And as I struggle hard to stand
and carry on without your hand,
I realise that I’m doing fine.
Horizons beckon, the sun still shines.
The rainbow hasn’t lost its colour,
and so what if the poppy’s pallor
needs a little extra spark, to stir the
meadow or the park?
I know that I will find my way
(despite the tears that make me stray),
by daring to believe my dream;
the trickle of a mountain stream
that flows, cascading to the sea
and finds release, as so will we…
I’m holding on to all that’s real;
the way you laugh, the way you feel,
the way we share a thought, our passion,
a sense that this is beyond fashion.
For how else can you touch me quite,
and know my soul, and fit so right?
For me, this journey holds no fear.
So please, unlock your heart, my dear…
© Andrianne Philippou –
26th April 2008
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.
FRUSTRATION – Poetry Reading by Patricia Marvin
Poem performed by Val Cole
POETRY 7 questions:
1) What is the theme of your poem?
The injustice that are going on in the black community
2) What motivated you to write this poem?
Watching the nightly news and seeing not just black lives but those who seem to not have a voice; and the many innocent lives taken by the hands of the police and nothing bening done in the majority of the cases
3) How long have you been writing poetry?
I’ve been writing for about 12 years.
4) If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?
Maya Angelou
5) What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?
I wanted to see how it sounded being read by someone else.
6) Do you write other works? scripts? Short Stories? Etc..?
Yes, I do. Many of my other poems are spiritually based works.
7) What is your passion in life?
Teaching students with disabilities. I’m a Special Education Teacher.
****
Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com
Director: Kierston Drier
Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne
Editor: John Johnson
Camera Operator: Mary Cox
Read Poetry: MOM’S ANGEL, Ken Allan Dronsfield
She sits majestically atop the Christmas tree
hair of gold
buttons sparkling
dress of white lace
her wings a stunning silver hue
I watched each year
her being placed
with loving care
upon the tree.
My mother standing back telling Dad,
to the left,
now right,
forward.
The years have now come and gone
Mom and Dad have passed away
the Angel sits in her box now
her dress dirty and worn
hair frizzy & unkempt
buttons don’t shine.
Memories are made and then put away
just like Mom’s beautiful Angel
radiance never forgotten
shining so very bright
each Christmas
Read Poetry: DAUGHTER OF THE SEVEN SOULS, by Fadrian A. Bartley
The cloud overcast, and with rain droplets
On the street of gallium valley
Silence in the atmosphere
Except the sound of a noisy boot worn by a priest
Walking swiftly down the wet lonely street
A little book in his hand
Wrapped around it
Is the hanging rosary
Swinging above the ground
With the expectation of something sinister have him surround
Looking behind all is clear
But a priest on a mission seem to fear
Reaching the end of a frightened journey
Begins a chapter of another story
Scream piercing through the walls of the antique building
Looking up to the broken window is the appearance of a child
Dressed in white looking down at the priest
Entering through the wooden gate, then like magic she is no more.
A rushing wind approaches
As the priest force himself through the door
Entering the house of wooden floor
Where the door slams behind, and a horse shoe fell to the ground.
An heart beat echoes through his ears
But courage for a priest without fear
The scream continued up the stairs
Coming from a little girl
With the changing tone of an old hog
Swiftly up the dusty steps the he ran
Bursting through a door of expected event
There’s a child with a raging force, surrounded with elders of seven
Incantation within the forceful creeps
Windows smashed to pieces a voice telling the child go to sleep
In Christ name leave this place
The priest command with a sinister force in a tangled state
Seven elders went up in smoke
A large mirror fell to the ground and broke
With Bloody red eyes the child spoke
A rushing wind surrounds their presence
Trembling forces and the house was shaken
How powerless thy faith, the child utters “you priest must be burn”
Take me not from this body, now is not your turn.
Objects fell and turn up sided down
Even crosses on the wall
Everywhere through the hall
Up to her face he held a cross
Leave this child at all cost
Lips frosted with spit dripping down to her cheek
Multiple voices with sparks of lightening illuminates all around
A rosary in the hand of the fainted priest all scattered to the ground
The priest have failed, but the child remains
Written By Fadrian .A. Bartley
The Bane of Whitechapel – Poetry Reading by Lee A Forman
Performed by Val Cole
Get to know the Poet:
What is the theme of your poem?
Horror / Historical
What motivated you to write this poem?
A documentary about Jack the Ripper.
How long have you been writing poetry?
I’ve been trying my hand at poetry for about a year.
If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?
Jules Verne.
What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?
I’ve written stories for audio drama podcasts and hearing your own work read aloud is very enjoyable.
Do you write other works? scripts? Short Stories? Etc..?
I have written many short stories, magazine articles, and will soon be publishing my first book.
What is your passion in life?
My greatest passion in life is writing. Always will be.
****
Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com
Director: Kierston Drier
Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne
Editor: John Johnson
Camera Operator: Mary Cox
POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film. 