Category: Uncategorized

Read Poetry: A WIDOW’S STORY, by Terita Buchanan-Moore

He was snatched from my grasp
In the blink of an eye
Tragically taken
By a thief in the night
My soulmate lost his life
In fifteen minutes
I became widowed
No longer a wife
Not by choice though
It was pure evil
Unleashed upon me and my family
Ten years later
Still in disbelief
When buried memories
Begin to surface like a vengeance
From my own remembrance
This past nightmare
Becomes a true reality
Of flashing frame shots
Stomach balled in knots
As I can sadly recall
The worst day of all
How I found him
Laying helplessly in a pool of blood
With gun residue
Scattered on his skin
In a state of shock
I mournfully watched
As my sister tried to revive him
I wish I could have turned back the clock
To the time when he was breathing
and standing right by my side
Alive and well
Moments before
Death decided to knock at our door
Holding on by a thread
I surely thought I would lose my mind instead
Our lives haven’t been the same
Since that unfortunate day
Trying to live on
After a loved one is gone
Is the hardest thing to do
Living life without him
Has been a heartbreaking task to get through
For no one can erase 38 years of his soul’s existence
In a short period of time
As the pain of not physically seeing him again
Leaves a very deep empty hole within
That no man can fill
So many thoughts of where we could have been
Often run through my head
Yet, I press on and remain strong
For I know this is something
I will never get over or understand
Why and how this was written in our life’s plan
Day after day, I’m doing the best that I can
By the grace of God
I’m living proof
As to how the Creator can keep you
During dark horrifying periods
From broken moments to happy spirits
Never thought I could feel again
But I did
No Love will ever match his
As he will be safely tucked away in a special place
In the deeper part of my heart
Forever and for always
Will I cherish those blessed days
I shared with my true love

 

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Read Poetry: Isadore Greely’s Place, by David E Navarro

Ominous beats thump the shutter
my blood throbs, I shudder within
hear the eerie creaks and groans
of stressed parched gray timber floors
and walls with each howling gust pushing
against the rough blanched stone estate,
a dark gabled palace of yesteryear
on the sparse plain midst the tall grasses
dominant within its wrought iron fence
and gnarled tree-lined perimeter,
up the hill separate that looms
above the field of wild grain overgrown.
The musty smell reeks of untold stories
better left in graves to sleep, but rest
escapes me as I lay huddled in the corner
there because my car gave up the ghost
on this chill night that might kill by morn
if I fear to lay in this cold tomb of a place
where a hoary voice breaks the dark shadows
just to simply ask if a fire would suit me.
I jump out of my shaking skin—my heart
drops into my stomach as Isadore Greely,
with glazed orange eyes from the instant fire,
introduces himself with an outstretched
gnarly hand of knuckles, then grins and says,
“No one has visited me in years,”
and intends to be quite a congenial host.

 

 

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Read Poetry: Change, by Peinsejoager

 Catch the wind in your hair
Standing on top of a mountain
Conquered with strength and skill
All the while, submit to it with respect

Will you understand it?
Will the forces of nature tolerate me trespassing
Will you allow it?
Will the elements be gentle to my body and soul

I climb the highest mountain
to find peace for a moment
I hike the vastest valley
to embrace my solitude for some time

I walk the curly roads
to challenge my spirit
I stroll through the fields in the rain
to feel the touch of nature

How can I not love this place…
How can I not love where I am going…
How can I not love…

A restless soul lives on and on
In search for tranquility, Some peace of mind
Closing his eyes, and finding the quietness
While resting his heart…

 

 

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Read Poetry: Blue Remembered Hills, by Cas Greenfield

 Skim a brittle frozen lake
And dance into my heart again
Melt my mind with breaths of spring
And lead me to The May
When the nights are lighter And when the days are lengthening
Bluster me with morning thrills,
Lead me to my Blue Remembered Hills

Fill my sky with untold stars
Breathe me into life again
Sketch my air with summer nights
And choose for me the way
Your magic hour at sunset
When reds and golds surprise
Roll my tongue with sugar pills
And lead me to my Blue Remembered Hills

Once we were callow young
With all our years before us
Ever two together as one
Now with our new found song aching to be sung
We’ll cast our dreams upon the Blue Blue Hills

So dance me through the Valentine
To where our love is sheltering
Shower me in blossom sparks
Of hawthorne’s scented day’til sage Augustus clothes us
In frosted robes of silvery
When seasons move against our will
We’ll walk upon our Blue Remembered Hills

When seasons move against our will
On Blue Remembered Hills(from Splinters and Sparks)

 

 

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Read Poetry: Where the Tears Go, by J Hirtle

 Genre: Dying

 Ten thousand days, perhaps more
Now faded forever
Since he first enlightened this lyricist
Guiding my vestal quill
Through undiscovered lands
With the poise of Gandalf
Proffering just enough to arouse one more query

The old man stood bent at the waist
The autumn of his life declared by the deep lines upon his face
His hands unable to conceal a never-ending tremble

He has always appeared ancient to my youth-filled gaze
Silver hair with amber tips
Bespectacled eyes behind thick glass
A wooden cane never leaving his grip

The morning sun greets our kinship
As I help him to our old park bench
Quietly we share the new dawn
I speak first
As oft I do,
Nay, as I always have

I pose my question,
“Where do tears go when they depart my eyes?”
I know they wander down my cheeks
When my emotions I cannot disguise
So, tell me dear sir,
“Where do tears go when they depart my eyes?”

Without a word, he looks at me
A glimpse of sadness breaks upon his face
For he already knows the reason of my query

The healer’s words had no hope to lend
The cancerous centaur
Laughed at the toxic elixir
Spreading its tentacles
Tendering deadly kisses
It seems my time here, is nearing the end

He spoke to me with an ancient whisper
A slithering smile slowly began to appear
He spoke as a teacher
A prophet
A friend

“You have nothing to fear
Soon you will stand in the place He prepared for you
There you will see the glorious truth-
Tears never die or go away
They turn to mist
To be used another day”

“Soon you will understand
He knows every tear that has ever dared to fall
And He will stretch out His hand
And gently wipe them all
That my young friend
Is where the tears go”

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Read Poem: BETRAYAL, by Meera Srivats

Laughter echoes over her mind
Quietened by the aching heart to wind
Time froze and disintegrated into tears
Accompanied by profound disdainful fears
Was he truthful to her innocent true love?
She pondered over her commitment to resolve
Questions surged with answers to find
But the aching heart crumpled her spirit to grind
The long forgotten true love lay dying
As she resolved to face the man who was honestly lying
Gathering strength from her burning tears of betrayal
Evolved has she into a woman of survival
Fearless and undeterred she ran towards the sun
And her free spirit blissfully screamed that she has just begun.

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Poetry Movie: What is Love, by Colin Guest

Poetry by Colin Guest

Narration by Becky Shrimpton

Editor & Visual Design by Carey Dieter

Produced by Matthew Toffolo

POETRY 7 questions:

What is the theme of your poem?

Love.

What motivated you to write this poem?

My strong feelings of love for my wife.

How long have you been writing poetry?

I started writing poems back in 1983 while working in Brunei. I have recently written a number of love poems for my wife, with two of them in the final four in WildSound Poetry Festivals, with another of my poems that Julian Ford read out online, in the final four.

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

I think due to my love of writing, it would Le Child, whose writing I think is in a class of its own.

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

I think the words in my poem would appeal to many people, especially those who do not know the difference between love and desire. Also, by having my poem read out live, it acts to give more publicity to my writing endeavours.

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

I have written and had published two short fiction books, plus one re my life in Turkey where I have lived for over 25 years, and a memoir entitled Follow in the Tigerman’s Footsteps. This covers my working as an expat for nineteen years in fifteen countries spread throughout the Middle, Far East and North Africa. In conjunction with Voyage Media who think my memoir could be used as the basis for a television series, I have written a pitch, which is on a list that Voyage sends out to over 6,000 producers to see if one is interested in using it.

At present, Julian Ford, one of your readers is working on turning my memoir into an audio book. I am presently writing a novel, and had over 14 articles published in online magazines, and one published in a UK expat magazine. I also took part in a live radio show in America re my writing.

What is your passion in life?

My passion is writing and hoping that one day I might have one of my books used as the basis for a film.

Young couple wearing rings hand in hand
Red heart tree

CARTLOADS – Poetry Reading by Sue Barnard

Performed by actor Peter-Mark Raphael

Get to know the writer:

What is the theme of your poem?

It’s a light-hearted parody of a very well-known poem: Cargoes by John Masefield. I updated the topic for a modern-day readership.

What motivated you to write this poem?

The idea just came to me out of the blue when I was pushing a shopping cart around a supermarket. By the time I reached the checkout I’d worked out the poem’s basic structure and thought of some of the lines. I had to keep repeating them over and over to myself until I got home and could write them down!

How long have you been writing poetry?

I’ve dabbled with it for most of my life, but it’s only during the past few years that I’ve started taking my work more seriously.

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

Oh gosh, there are so many. But if I had to choose just one, I think it would have to be William Shakespeare. He was a great and prolific writer, and has influenced much of my own work, including two of my novels (see below). I’d love to ask him what he did during the seven years of his life which are unaccounted for, between leaving Stratford-upon-Avon and arriving in London. And I’d also find out once and for all if he spoke with a regional accent!

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

It felt like a great opportunity, for which I am most grateful. Thank you.

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

I’ve written a few short stories which have been published in anthologies, and I’ve also written four novels which are published by Crooked Cat Books. Two of these (The Ghostly Father and The Unkindest Cut of All) are based on works by Shakespeare (respectively Romeo & Juliet and Julius Caesar). The other two are Nice Girls Don’t (a romantic intrigue based on a search for family secrets) and Never on Saturday (a time-slip romance novella based on an old French legend). I currently have two other projects on the go, but they are still in the early stages.

I also do editing work for other writers.

What is your passion in life?

Life itself. It should be lived to the full. Every moment is precious, and will never come again.

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Producer: Matthew Toffolo http://www.matthewtoffolo.com

Director: Kierston Drier
Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne
Editor: John Johnson

Camera Operator: Mary Cox