Category: Uncategorized

Our World, Poetry by Roderick Dupree

Genre: Society

Our World by Roderick Dupree

Looking left all my brothers turned thugs

Looking right my sisters sexing for love

Look up praying for change amongst us

Look down hoping the message was received from above

I see the same problems everyday

Violence

Envy

Gossip

Hate

A boy being a man before understanding his own way

A girl being a woman for confidence outside her doorway

Equals another soul taken before their birthday

I’ve seen days darken in the time of sunshine

I’ve seen dreams disappear at a point in time

Leaders promising followers a sure prize

Reality hitting followers with a surprise

Call upon the protect and serve to survive

Protect our rights when they decide

Serve our calling in disguise

Crucified for looking guilty because of my roots history

Only God can judge me but the gavel says differently

The circle of death continues

Different people

Same murders

New venues

Everyday life of new issues

Same book

Different chapters

Never ending sequels

Dreams of our world being saved

For staged opportunities for change

As we all once prayed

Living life through venegenance

As redemption feeds our heart engine’s

We want change

But never in attendance

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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When, Poetry by Abdulkadir Abdulrahim

Genre: Relationship

 
When
 

We have been waiting,
Since when we know nothing
When we cannot even figure out what is wrong,
When we did not know whom to sue.

We have being waiting,
Watching and wondering…
About when are we going to change
And when is the game going to be over.

We kept quite
Seeing innocents’ life being quitted.
Seeing our children becoming orphan,
Also our young women becoming widow.

We kept quite
Closely end our finger as we bite.
Tolerating misconduct in the society,
As the government say nothing.

Please tell me…

When are we going to inhale the fresh air?
When are we going to stop having nightmare?
When are going stop seeing our vanished innocent brothers?

We lived under the umbrella of brotherhood
Different religion, different culture.
Rich and poor as well.

Yet nor peace alive,
Oh we need some ease,
Please let us breathe,
Please, please.
…please

Copyright Abdulkadir Abdulrahim 
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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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The Art of Living Life, Poetry by Marie Catalan

Genre: Society

The Art of Living Life by Marie Catalan

Hear me

Feel me

Nobody sees me

Tired
Lonely
People all around me
Tap tap tap away on their little screens
Forced laugh
Silly things
No talk but whispering
Everybody’s online
Posting
Liking
Not really living

All just a show

All just simulating

Strange attachments to little things

Scrolling and meandering

Look up

Breathe and taste the sky
There’s so much more
Than comments and likes

Feel the world

Take your time
Somehow we’ll learn
The Art of Living Life

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Rest in Peace, Nirbhaya. We will not, Poetry by Sinjini Sengupta

Genre: Relationship

Rest in Peace, Nirbhaya. We will not.by Sinjini Sengupta
————————————
I can’t say why –
But have you not noticed too?
That,
Decembers…
These days..
They got colder
Colder than before
Colder than ever
colder in a different way?
It is a chill of another kind –
Oh, it is! It is!
________________________________________
It pierces through you in your sleep
It travels down your spine;
It makes you feel angry
and helpless,
Beyond, words can reach.
You shudder and you thank,
Because you are alive,
and because you could die!
And you cannot decide
To be selfish or to cry?
Or to turn your neck aside
And pretend it’s still all well?
Perhaps, you can’t think any more
Oh, so do I!
—————————————-
But you cannot but still wonder
What if she never became
That legend, that name,
That crusader, as they say!
But then, she would still be
Sipping into hot coffee
On a chilly winter night
With friends, or just like that!
As her Mom would
Perhaps,
Rub coconut oil to her hair
Or complain, like ours do,
When she’d get home late again!
Oh, trust her when she says,
She never asked for a new name!
But then, we gave her one!
So that we don’t forget.
That –
We could still not decide
And,
Still not find our way!
—————————————–
“Rest in peace, Nirbhaya. We will not.”
(In remembrance, Jyoti Singh Pandey.)
—————————————–

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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THE WORLD’S GONE MAD, Poetry by Kevin Short

Genre: Life, Society

THE WORLD’S GONE MAD by Kevin Short

THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
AS MAD AS HATTERS
THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
ITS ALL IN TATTERS
THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
BATS IN THE BELFRY
THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
NOT EVEN HEALTHY
THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
IT’S OH SO SAD
AND OH, WOE AM I
ITS TIME TO DO OR DIE

THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
BUT WE CAN CHANGE IT
THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
WE’LL REARRANGE IT
THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
YES, WE CAN BEAT IT
THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
WE CAN DEFEAT IT
WE’LL ALL GO MAD
RAVING MAD
WE’LL ALL GET CERTIFIED
AND OH, WOE BETIDE

THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
COME ON AND SHOUT IT
THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
READ ALL ABOUT IT
THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
ITS WACKADOODLE
THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
MAD IN THE NOODLE
THE WORLD’S GONE MAD
SO LET’S GO MAD
AND OH, WOE BETIDE
NOBODY WILL SURVIVE!

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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The world is a stage, Poetry by Kila Price

Genre: Life

The world is a stage by Kila Price

The world is a stage
And we, the performers.
Acting out our lives for unknown powers. Presenting ourselves to beings of wonder.
As the lights shine on us, we find ourselves in states of splendor.
But the stage is small.
And the performers grow. But one would think to continue the show
for the dark and unknown.
A show that could win an award if working together, divides and elongates for the desire for stardom.
We break our bonds of friendship, no longer united, shed blood, sparing one another still undecided. And we sprawl. We sprawl. To be applauded. Little do we know its what the unknown always wanted.

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Sex At It’s Finest, Poetry by HonestlyFrank

Genre: Sex, Spirituality, Commitment, Hope, Inspirational, Love, and Temptaion.

Sex At It’s Finest by HonestlyFrank 
 
This could all be so simple we could just go that far to the point of no 
return, because the damage would be done. The horripilation is so surreal. 
We haven’t done it before, but I can imagine what that scene would look 
like. Let’s take a moment to picture our lips gliding softly against each other 
as smooth as silk, your hands caressing my body which is as soft as rose 
petals, my nails digging into your back carving every truth in that timing of 
pleasure, your pelvis conjoining with mine, and from there you sliding in on 
my island, and in that final thrust we’ve just reached the peak of my 
mountain. All of these thoughts came to mind just with the thought of you. I 
want you deeper though, I want to feel you in my soul even when you’re 
not in my presence. This has to be like no other. So instead make all of 
that physical love to my mind, know my ins and outs, every second on this 
earth with me counts. I know I’m more than what meets the eyes, so are 
you. Get deeper in me climax my heart with the choice to wait. Let’s wait til 
all of this makes sense, let’s wait until the physical sounds of our moans 
are just the rainfall in a desert, this has to be blessed so we can’t allow 
ourselves to make a mess.-HonestlyFrank 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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#BRAVOBRAINBRAVO, Poetry by Iiafiam Immortal

Genre: Relationship

#BRAVOBRAINBRAVO by Iiafiam Immortal

Flash backs caused by a  back flash through  a camera lens as the butterfly knife performs a Ballarat parawet, yet no actual reversal of time.

There is no 1.21 giggawatt flux capacitor and doc emmit with a Shelby to correct The past ,and that’s fine.

Only my unlikely  future endeavors  have formulated in My brain cell  chemistry lab of hope, That resides in the entire non-motor anterior region of the frontal lobe.

My beloved cerebellum triggers emotions,
that makes me  curse  the brain stem responsible for sending air in and out of noses.

I’ve jumped springs to get to this level of chemical imbalance beams where one slip has lead to a plethora of broken dreams without a team to applaud my losses, and a  artificial brain is no substitute worthy enough to stop the referees forfeit.

You see A thousand cuts wasn’t a form of Lingchi torture It was My unconventional way to release the endorphins that powers my euphoria.

Cuddos to my insanity for finding a way to clear my vision as I travel on the road that will eventually lead to my  suicide.

To the untrained eye a push up of the  skin could make one weaker.

To the trained eye a push up of the skin could bring strength in the presence of a self mutilation seeker. Bravo brain, Bravo!

Because you are the most remarkable feature,
In the anatomy of this creature.

Giving oneself  enough sense to take its  own life when the fire surrounds the steeple, and that is why i I love you.

I love you so much I would like to saw the skull That covers you, pull you out, look at you, kiss you and then smush you.
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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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My Daughter, My Delight, Poetry by Khan Mohd

Genre: Relationship

My Daughter, My Delight by Khan Mohd

Life was dull though no dent was visible on her face

It was slightly scary though no shrill was making me shiver

But everything was in pause, deadlocked and standstill.

 

On one chilly evening, I was ambling outside the labour room

Suddenly, I heard the call of life warped in a warm and soft blanket

When I hold her, I realised that the life rests in a blissful innocence.

 

Her beaming eyes were powerful enough to illuminate my senses

And her warmth was stimulating enough to make me alive once again

Since then I have been living with a pious delight, the life, my daughter.

 

Surprisingly, it was not the borrowed happiness, it was a gifted smile

A daughter is always dear to her dad and always close to his heart                                                            A daughter is enough to make you proud and happy.

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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My Demons, Poetry by NADIA CABALLERO

Genre: DARK

My Demons
There is a fear I face everyday
Alone, darkness swiftly invades
Trapped by these four walls
No escape as my heart falls
Silence unfolds in a mysterious way
As my demons come out to play
I try to run and hide
But you see my demons, they live inside,
Desperately I try to ignore
As my sanity slips through the door,
Not knowing if what I’m seeing is real
I stab myself to see if I feel
The wound I’ve inflicted begins to bleed
My demons rejoice, for this is what they need
Reluctantly, I accept the gift they bring
Around my neck, I’ll hang from a string
Lights grow dim, I begin wheezing
Distantly I hear a faint screaming
Someone has come in to save me
They clean up my wounds,
I swallow the pills they give me
For now my demons have gone away
But I know tonight when they come out to play
They’ll want to kill whoever got in the way.

NADIA CABALLERO

 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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