Read Poetry: Spread Your Wings, by Lana Rafaela Cindric

Genre: LIFE

Let me tell you something:
No one is going to look at you, broken and shattered ​
and think -​
Damn, you are beautiful.
No one is going to come pick up your broken pieces ​
off the floor ​
and assemble them into a beautiful whole.
Hell,​
even you won’t look at yourself and think – ​
I made broken look beautiful.
You know why?
Because all those writers lied to you.
Yes,​
all those with their poems of scraped knuckles and ​
blood dripping down chins,​
pomegranate songs and loves that ripped through you ​
like hurricanes.
Liars.
So you and I,​
we are going to make a plan.
You are not going to romanticize days when your ​
brain tells you to smash that mirror,​
you are not going to romanticize the lover who ​
doesn’t understand you ​
but still writes about you.
Here is what you are going to romanticize instead:
You are going to romanticize the first day of spring,​
its gentle hands all over your body,​
lifting you up until you are as light as a feather.
You are going to romanticize the tea and honey kind of love,​
no hurricanes,​
but sunshine that builds you up from within, ​
that helps you make it through the worst days.
You are going to romanticize the gentle hands of a friend​
in yours,​
telling you that it is going to be okay.​
because it is.
And don’t trust poets,​
we’re no good,​
we love pretending that our jagged edges tantamount ​
to a beautiful disaster, ​

but in reality – there ain’t nothing beautiful ​
about shaky hands holding a cigarette and​
empty eyes staring at the cracks in the walls.
You know what is beautiful, instead?
The days when you can look at yourself in the mirror and smile,​
scars and all.
Music that makes your soul flow like a river,​
books that offer comfort,​
families flocking together like overgrown birds to keep you safe and warm,​
friends that give you strength when you can find none,​
lovers who make you laugh through tears.
Baby, ​
from now on​
you are going to romanticize healing;
honey dripping down your fingertips,​
August nights that stick to your skin,​
the day you find your purpose,​
long car rides and singing so loud that no one can shut you up now.
Bad news:​
no one is coming to save you.
Good news:​
you can save yourself.

 

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Poetry Reading: A Single Atom, by Ivor Steven

Performed by Elizabeth Rose Morriss

Get to know the poet:

  What is the theme of your poem?

The poem is about my turmoil of thoughts and doubts, between my recently departed wife, and my starting up of a new relationship.

What motivated you to write this poem?

Lots of bad dreams and guilt.

How long have you been writing poetry?

I’ve been writing poetry for twenty-two years, although I’ve only been going public with my writings for the last eight years.

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

I’d love to have dinner with Leonard Cohen.

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

The curiousity factor of listening to my words being articulated by some-one else, and to have my poem heard by the large audience of Poetry Festival’s readers.

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

Basically I only write poems, however I have written a few short stories.

What is your passion in life?

I’m an Australian, and my main passion is to travel to Canada and America, and visit family/relatives

Read Poetry: Fake News, by Vikky Lonie

I’ve decided to stop reading the news
It’s full of contradiction and misinterpreted views,
Bending of truths like a novelists muse
Inciting inspiration, stimulation, radicalisation but never the truth of the situation
Just a public announcement of the wrong account, a miscommunication or fake revelation
Is it an attempt at entertainment?
Lacking empathy, a cold report with no sympathy
Of death, disaster and misery
Attacking humanity
As they relish at the world flying in to abyss
I can’t be alone, wishing we would all hug and kiss
So, instead I’ve turned to poetry, where theres no need to encourage, provoke or lie
For words of poem can reach the sky, you cant deny
My interpretation is all I need to see
Where thoughts can wander, minds can ponder
I never need to wonder, if what’s written is fact or fiction
As a poet spilling his heart on paper, writing fast, creating friction
He goes to war with every etching
Of love and emotion of pain of gain
It’s truer than the mirror in which you see your face
It reads like silk and flows like lace
Spilling over with generosity, leaving a genuine taste
Whether of love or hate, faith or sin
It’s come from within where only truth can win

 

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Read Poetry: BIRDS FROM THE EAST BY SHARON MO SH

GENRE – ANIMAL LIFE

Birds from the east
Each one a hankery miniature beast
Friends I made by the fields
Everyday I toil until I sweat
But not the feathered chaps of the sky
They are birds from the east
All they do is fly
If not lie in their nests
Waiting patiently by the east coast
Praying for my head to turn west
Look at those black eyes
Getting darker with hanker
Birds from the east
Preying on my crops
All chattering in cabal
They eat their hearts out
Will I turn?
Will I alter my bearing?
What good will it bring
Leaving my paragon for the beast?
I will just wait until the sun set
They are birds from the east
They sleep by the night

 

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Read Poetry: INSOMNIAC’S LULLABY, by Ruthie B.

I’m feeling nervous
I’m feeling strange
My mind just wants to keep repeating
These things over again
I’m in a time warp
With my own brain
No longer wonder what it feels like
To be going insane
Sleep
Sleep
Sleep
You are no friend of mine
Save
These
Dreams
For some other time
Can’t stop these feelings
They come too fast
I’m at an early morning viewing
Of
Mistakes From The Past
Turn
Back
Time
I’ve seen this one before
Break
These
Chains
Can’t do this anymore
Sleep
Sleep
Sleep
Please be a friend of mine
Close
My
Eyes
I’ll try this one more time
I’m feeling nervous
I’m feeling strange
by
Ruthie B
Genre: pressure, life, fear, dark

 

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Read Poetry by Tiwari vikas ‘kaiv

once we met, loved, kissed, 

hug and talk a lot to each other.
now we see each other, 

and looked away our eyes, 

as we forget our past.
we forget who we were, and are.
forgot the love, 

which flourished 

between our kisses

 and warmth of our hug.
we forgot the color of our smile

 and dazzle of our eyes.
i am not sure that it was you or it was me,
but yes! we forgot, 

who decided first to start this forgetness.

 

 

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Read Poetry by Charles Howes

Winter in pastel

Snow falls on snow

North wind whistles through the pines

The lonely crow calls

The fire crackles

The window pane cries

tears of confusion

in the early morning sun

Love in laughter

Toes tangle beneath

the quilt

Summer can wait

—cphowes

 

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Read Poetry by Eddiee Gomez

Genre: Dark, death, emotional, nature, interpretation

There she stood, fleeing from her fears

A big clear ocean stands before her

She can’t see life the same way she used to 

There’s a void in her, there’s loneliness

Pulsing, wanting to go back in time

To fix her gestures, under the moon she lays

One foot upon the shore, a single exhale

She let the sadness eat her up, inside deep

Floating between the waves, eyes closed

Giving her life to the most precious thing left

The only thing that ever made her feel alive

Time after time, her footseps were gone

Walking aimlessly, her love to life was lost

As the ocean hugs her, her inhales were at sea

One with her, no more running, she is free.

 

 

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Read Poetry: Flowing Form, by Stuart Aken

Form colour texture shape

Do they singly or in blend

Define what we see as beauty?

 

Is it how the limbs are made

The curving contours or

The hidden depths unseen?

 

Can genetic imperative alone

Something so banal be why

Or does some other force apply?

 

Undoubtedly we are attracted

Are all designed to look

And gender is no key

 

Despite the jests on paper bags

The face is all-important

A smile an invitation glance

 

When the loved one looks your way

Is it you who fills those eyes

And that one you really see?

By Stuart Aken (UK)

 

Genres: Love, Philosophical, Relationships, Romantic.

 

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