She disappears as the dark abyss swallows her whole As she sits alone heart breaks with her soul filled with emotions
Genre: Dark, Death and Hurt
Reflection by Barbara Hunt
Darkness shadows and fear flash there jagged teeth towards her
She disappears as the dark abyss swallows her whole As she sits alone heart breaks with her soul filled with emotions
She looks at herself in the mirror and sees not herself but the dead girl smile back she shatters the mirror and drops to the floor uttering her name in the silence
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I see a girl standing there lonely and wonderful
standing on the edge of vast space
No one coming to save or tell her to stop
She never called for that kind of attention
One deep breathe of hesitation betrays her fear
Genre: Fear/Motivational
Ocean’s Bottom by Antonia Giordano
I see a girl standing there lonely and wonderful
standing on the edge of vast space
No one coming to save or tell her to stop
She never called for that kind of attention
One deep breathe of hesitation betrays her fear
but she stands there and as she jumps,
she cant’ see where she lands
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Unloving and unnurturing,
A woman without a woman’s touch,
Potential mother but then again, not very much
Limited by her ideals, faminism?
No, supremanism
Domination is all she seeks to clutch.
Genre: Love, Heartbreak, Rhyme, Relationship
She’s a man, by Bryan Chan
With trashy ideology and principles,
Her words are bland and hollow,
Mindless substance which have been borrowed.
Unloving and unnurturing,
A woman without a woman’s touch,
Potential mother but then again, not very much
Limited by her ideals, faminism?
No, supremanism
Domination is all she seeks to clutch.
The personality of a wall,
Cold and hard,
not very far from her standards,
white-washed and scrawny,
Crumbling and sickly,
Thinks herself high and mighty,
But in reality,
She is far from great,
The chinese have made far better gates.
She inspires love and passion,
But so do pies,
And cakes,
Not to mention chocolates,
But hers is a poison one cannot negate,
It is mistaken love,
Lest should I think it fate,
She leaves a rush of resentment,
An after taste of hate.
* * * * *
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Are the stars in the sky?
Are the birds in the trees?
Is there green on the leaves?
Is the water still blue?
Why do fish swim upstream?
Why does everything
Seem to not mean a thing
When I am with you?
Genre: Love
No Question
by Saintswest
Are the stars in the sky?
Are the birds in the trees?
Is there green on the leaves?
Is the water still blue?
Why do fish swim upstream?
Why does everything
Seem to not mean a thing
When I am with you?
Will the sun rise today?
Will the air smell as sweet?
Can the days be longer?
Could this love be stronger?
Has the rain begun to fall?
Are there people here at all?
Why can’t I see a thing?
Why do I only see you?
Are the stars out tonight?
Is it cloudy?
Is it bright?
I am here with one tonight
And I’ve never been more right
And you love me like I do
And I love you like you do
How could I have ever wondered
Why these eyes see only you?
* * * * *
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Best of Poetry performance readings in February 2016. Performed by Kaleb Alexander and Maya Wolosyzn
Best of Poetry performance readings in February 2016. Performed by Kaleb Alexander and Maya Wolosyzn
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***
Director/Producer: Matthew Toffolo
Casting Director: Sean Ballantyne
Editor: John Johnson
I stay nickel, dime and dubbin’
Caressin’, Kissin’ and Huggin’
A penny fo’ ya thoughts but what’s
the price fo’ ya lovin’?
To me you’re priceless and worth
all the strugglin’
Genre: Street Poetry
I stay nickel, dime and dubbin’
Caressin’, Kissin’ and Huggin’
A penny fo’ ya thoughts but what’s
the price fo’ ya lovin’?
To me you’re priceless and worth
all the strugglin’
Trying to flip like to love
I’m emotionally hustlin’
I got roses, long walks and romantic talk
all bundled up.
I’m slingin’ quality time fo’ cheap
I’m trying to double up.
I’m on the grind, O.T., and you be the re-up.
I’m pullin’ all-nighters.
Just hit me…I’ll be up.
If lovin’ you is a crime, then I’m taking the plea.
The charge is hustlin’ fo’ your love and I plead guilty!
* * * * *
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I looked deeper in
aching to abyss to understand
And I understoodtand
And I understood
Genre: Healing, Family, Relationship
Mending Mother by Leslie Caplan
I found a photograph at the bottom
of an unopened box
Crackling cardboard dried out from
being rained on
I reached in
Sifting through old letters,
scrawls of random thoughts,
poems that turned into
a thousand page book
I poured it out
onto the open floor
let the air in
let the stream of yellow light
spill in
and wrap around each keepsake
At the bottom,
under the fold and crease where the box
holds itself together
was a picture
At first I thought it was me
But it was you
as a young, budding woman
in a black and white capture
of your innocence
How hopeful your eyes gleaned
how deep the longing for what’s ahead
I held the photo in my hand
sat under the window and let the light
magnify your face
I saw myself
The face of the womb in which I grew
before I was even a thought
in your world
So long before an injection of insane
came in and corrupted your radiant youth
and the palpable wisdom
held in the cup your hand
So young and ivory skinned
Plump in cheeks and heart
And even though the picture was black and white
I saw the rosy tint of freshness
on your face
Your rich light almond eyes
I could see right through
You were lovely.
To the core of my holding
Soft before the world you inhaled
made you bitter to a pucker
Your hands mirrored mine
The shape of your brow
the shine of your lips long before
they dried out from all the salted cries you swallowed
You were beautiful.
I looked deeper in
aching to abyss to understand
And I understood
That somewhere along that paved line of your life
your heart caved
and shattered into too many pieces
to pick up and put back together
and you had to pretend
to be unbroken
pretend to love the man you married
and bore three daughters with
that you pretended you knew what to do with
And all you could do
was raise them inside
the shattered chamber you held together
for the sake of their survival
praying they’d thrive
in spite you
and I did.
I can speak for myself and say I did
And I took what was good in you
sane and whole in you
and I found my way
with what you did give me
life
courage
fire
and eyes so deep they blink
off the stillness of a photograph
and shed a tear so fertile
it grows life
mends and heals and breathes into
my whole life
within and without you
my life in honor
of you.
www.courageousheartinmotion.com
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Click the links and read the best of ANGRY Poetry:
Click the links and read the best of ANGRY Poetry:
BRIGHTON CLOCK TOWER REDECORATED, Anna Tizard:
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/10/10/brighton-clock-tower-redecorated-poetry-by-anna-tizard/
SAFEKEY FIRST by Barry Fairweather: http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/09/25/safekey-first-poetry-by-barry-fairweather/
THE CURATOR, by John Taurek Baziw: http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/09/06/the-curator-poetry-by-john-taurek-baziw/
POEM, by Nemo:
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/09/05/poem-poetry-by-nemo/
NEEDED SPACE, by Lorraine Ferns:
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/06/16/needed-space-poetry-by-lorraine-ferns
VISITING GEMINI, LindaAnn Loschiavo:
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/06/07/visiting-gemini-poetry-by-lindaann-lo-schiavo/
PAIN, Muthoni Ngige:
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/05/23/pain-poetry-by-muthoni-ngige/
HATE ME LIKE YOU LOVED ME, by Mariah E. Wilson:
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/05/16/hate-me-like-you-loved-me-poetry-by-mariah-e-wilson/
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Like many of you, I burrow seasonal trenches
Up and down and through,
Weaving my way through the ideology
That tomorrow’s winter will ever be colder than today’s.
I prefer a Sunday dance around a newspaper
And a misty cup beside my father’s silence,
Genre: Relationship, Family
From the Water by Allison J. Call
Like many of you, I burrow seasonal trenches
Up and down and through,
Weaving my way through the ideology
That tomorrow’s winter will ever be colder than today’s.
I prefer a Sunday dance around a newspaper
And a misty cup beside my father’s silence,
And I prefer the cold hands of a February morning
Tightening its delicate grip around
My most vulnerable.
I prefer all this, all this to what’s really.
My father counts one every year,
Because dawn is MY years old,
I control the seasons
And he couldn’t possibly die.
He is too wrong, too opposite of me.
Too set in his ways to let the ice grip him
As it grips me.
He’s too much my father to be a poet.
And he never told me that he was, and if he
NEVER told me he was, then
How can it be?
And outside, mint-mist fog ripples like a clock ticking
Wildly without a cog to push it
And without a hand to tell.
I come alone in the morning into the minty smoke
That has sky for veins.
I come alone on a Sunday
To count the drops of the lapping lake water
Or the warm, black metal tins along the edge of it.
In silence, war wears no coat and makes
No promises.
War’s tangled colors are the ticking fog, the water, the tins,
The newspaper dance, the warm coffee.
War is my father whom I cannot define
And of whom I come from without definition or border.
From the water I come virginal, frozen.
From the water I come a bastard, an orphan,
And alone.
I come from my father but I am not my father.
I am the water.
The morning light water.
* * * * *
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It was cloudy
And the thunder was rowdy
Suddenly an angel descended from heaven
And called me at eleven
Genre: Love, Rhyme, Romance
A Brief Encounter by H. Alahmad
It was cloudy
And the thunder was rowdy
Suddenly an angel descended from heaven
And called me at eleven
We met at a place of festivity
I felt I am outside the bounds of gravity
I wanted to fly
High in the sky
She said buy me a lollipop
And take me to a bookshop
If I liked books before
Today I adore them more than my Porsche four by four
Because they will testify that my encounter was real
Although it was surreal
My angel was gorgeous
Like a rose from Damascus
She has beautiful eyelashes
Those convert the heart into ashes
She was so white
And her teeth were so bright
Her voice was like music to my ears
But it brought to my eyes tears
When she said I have to go
It was like the end of the show
I wanted time to freeze
I kept saying please please please
But time had no mercy on me
And refused my plea
Time has a heart made of stone
And refused to give me a loan
All I wanted is one extra minute
But I was unfortunate
The books were crying
And words were dying
When she said bye
And ascended high
I wish I was shot
And buried on that spot
The books will be my coffin
And words will be my next of kin
It was a brief encounter
It was a brief encounter
* * * * *
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Stranger In Love� – Poetry Reading by Poetess Chantelle Cherie
Marvelous Universe Poetry Reading By Karina Pinella
Dear Lie – Poetry Reading by Stephanie Crosby
Call me guilty – Poetry Reading by Stephanie Crosby
Assumptions – Poetry Reading by Denise P Isaac
#1 fan Poetry Reading by Stephanie Crosby
Paris � The Atrocity 13th November 2015
FRAGMENTS Poetry Reading by Melissa R Mendelson
Forgiveness Poetry Reading by Sherille Williams
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