Tag: 2016 poetry

Lining of My Mind, Poetry by Shannon Laws

2016 stands outside the window, framed to be seen,
stands politely ‘til the door opens
the right door
at the right time
The future comes to me quickly

Tea or coffee?
A blanket for your lap?
It’s cold outside where time weathers
as a pacific swirl over the peninsula
hooked on peaks

cold. still.

It rains in my house.
The fire is out.
Wet paper see-throughs to wooden table.
Drips creep across the low areas, finds them all
—both the dark and the hidden.

I’m swept up into this ungraspable moment Future comes to visit.

What we desire more than seasons or weather
is the comfort of being a stranger, more so with ourselves.
It is better not to know.
So I wait.
Wait for something that vanishes as soon as it arrives.
It’s appearance not unlike mowed lawn
—the stalk of the dandelion snapped.

It’s there. We know it.
Whether we walk on it or not.
The merciless motor hums in the distance and every so often
a breeze from the south carries the leaky-green odor of grass.

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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Ophelia; from Isolation to Desolation, Poetry by Bicky Saikia

Genre: Minimalism

Shredded heart bleeds blue
high and isolated
she is her own muse.
Sinking in whisky 
headed up to desolation,
betrayed yet easy to wield,
standing next to misery.

She is ophelia
Belongs to a forbidden town.
a victim and stressed lover,
stumbled and floundered 
innocence died with her virgin blood
youth is now aged bride 
exaggerate some wailing groove.

Sings and weeps
scars and tattoos shine 
her unadorned and blazed ancient beauty 
ushers to vanity and delusions 
She slept with a dethroned prince
kiss and undress that ample girl
tried to be faded by singing celtic song
accused by unforgiven deeds of others 
from isolation ophelia headed upto desolation.

 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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Sunday Blues, Poetry by Barbara D.M.

Genre: Melancholy

Title: Sunday Blues 
Sunday blues
calling her name
She sat there empty,
time slipping away
Galaxies in her eyes
Cups stained with her lips
Shadows across the room
Aching bones
Smudged lines down her face,
thinking of better days
-Barbara D.M.

 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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Year 2016 Poetry Contest (Winner gets poem made into film)

Deadline January 15th. Submit a poem that’s about the YEAR 2016 and get it made into a movie. 

Accepting any poetry in any genre or length that’s about YEAR 2016 in any way.

All poems will be posted on this network. Over 95,000 unique visitors a day. The winning poem will have their poetry made into a movie. SPECIAL NOTE: Every single entry will get their poetry performed by a professional actor and made into a video.

The RULES are simple:

1. Write a POEM that’s about the  YEAR 2016. Send it to this contest for $20 and it will be POSTED on this site guaranteed for 100,000s to see. Plus, every entry will get their poetry performed at the festival and made into a video. (you own all rights to this poem and whenever you want it taken down, send us an email).

2. Email your POEM to submission@festivalforpoetry.com in .pdf, .doc, .wpd, .rtf, or .fdr format or just cut and paste it into the body of the email.

3. SUBMIT as many poems as you like. One fee per poem entry.

4. The poem can be anything about the YEAR 2016. An event/situation about the YEAR 2016 in general. Any topic from optimism, tragedy, to politics.

5. PAY THE $20 SUBMISSION FEE. Guaranteed post on this network. Results to be emailed by January 20th.

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Watch the November 2016 Poetry Readings

AYLAN LIES FACE DOWN by Angelina Llongueras

DELIRIOUS by L.T. Garvin

TOM CAT by Barbara Anderson

WILL’S HOUSE by Martha C. Wallace

Regret, Poetry by Ella Godinez

 I think that I’m starting to move on
It’s not easy but just carry on
I’ve done all the things that could distract me from thinking about him
But I just really could not get rid of my feelings towards him

My heart was broken like a glass that fell from a table
At first I thought we were unbreakable
Everything that I think about you was wrong
Didn’t know that loving you could turn out wrong

We were once so happy
When I haven’t tell you yet this kind of feelings that makes me giddy
Everytime you sit and talk to me
There’s still no awkward feeling you get when you’re with me

I now regret all the wrong decisions I made
All of the things you said cuts like a blade
You won’t even care when you see me bleed
If there’s a bidding to save me you wont bid

But hey, guess what?
Thanks for all of that
Now I know what I really want
Not a guy that would just taste a gum and spit it out

You wasted your chance
You already got me in your hands
But you still chose to break my heart
Now, goodbye,I wont be chasing a guy that has a cold stone heart

Genre: Rhyme, Relationship, Romance

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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HEART-ROBBER, Poetry by Glory Emmanuel

Genre: Romance, Relationship

HEART-ROBBER by Glory Emmanuel, aka glow grandeur.

In the gloom of the night
When all was asleep and quiet
He came and broke into my heart
Using his burglary tools and might

His charm was the key, when that did not work
He bashed out his slanting look
With this he smacked in pieces my gate
Trembling, I spelt my fate
With his seductive tongue, he genteelly opened the door
And dragged me out of my fur of fear

He searched me, and took away everything
Walked and left me with nothing
I try to call the police, maybe shout out for help
But my voice had lost its leap
There and then it dawned on me, I have no heart
The robber have stolen it
In that blink moment of lustful romance
I lost a lifetime of faith in Terrence

I must admit, I admire my heart-robber
I think he was stewed with the onion of Napoleon
It takes a lot of tactics and grit to rob my heart
And only few men can
For it takes a general with many years of conquest
To have the guts to make an attempt.

 

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Deadline for POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

WATCH this month’s poetry readings performed by professional actors:
http://www.wildsoundfestival.com/may_2015_poetry_readings.html

Watch Recent Poetry Readings:

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Masks of Melancholy, Poetry by Ruth Bowley

Genre: Dark, Life, Rhyme

Masks of Melancholy by Ruth Bowley

Tell me darkness, where have your been?
The woods have stalked me.
The pavement has ridden my soul.
And, my city streets have turned cold.

Do not deny me…for that in which I have been destined.
Madness has offended you.
But it is my imaginary friend.

As the state has hand picked those upon my family tree,
yesterday was their’s to own.
Yet, this is my unhinged bedroom door…
This, this aching constant gardening of backdoor pondering…
Is a vacant ghost, immune to pathological monitoring.

At the hand of my father, an insanity plea.
At the feet of my mother, bloodied masks of melancholy.
The whole body of truth, the child…
Is a mad generation…set free.

 

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Deadline for POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

WATCH this month’s poetry readings performed by professional actors:
http://www.wildsoundfestival.com/may_2015_poetry_readings.html

Watch Recent Poetry Readings:

Watch Previous Poems turned into movies:

Delirious, Poetry by L.T. Garvin

Genre: Relationship

Delirious by L.T. Garvin

I escaped
with tiny, shimmering coins
stuffed in my pockets
finally running free
with you and Mad Desire.
I was only one step ahead
of Disaster
gleefully skipping
into midnight madness
and twinkling lights
in downtown trees.
The melodic music
vibrating off thin air
in the syrupy night shadows.
I warned you about
the hot hand of revenge
the need to minuet dance
even with uncertain steps.
We might rather have been
mixed in
with the piano bar folks
drunk on lyrics and static,
sophisticated noise
singing Shangri-la.
But we kept burning
through those nights
like renegade warriors
random and loose
the sense of it all
scorching my empty heart
but you, you never knew
what delirious truly was.

 

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Deadline for POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

WATCH this month’s poetry readings performed by professional actors:
http://www.wildsoundfestival.com/may_2015_poetry_readings.html

Watch Recent Poetry Readings:

Watch Previous Poems turned into movies:

Office Politics, Poetry by Luke Wilson Lucas

Genre: Life, Work

Office Politics by Luke Wilson Lucas

Luz let me listen to her son’s message,
A brief statement of his arrival: “Mami, soy yo…”
The rest lost in a gargle of argot and elisions,
And her eyes crinkled with delight at my puzzlement—
To my ear it could have been Cantonese.

This during a time, between her fourth and her fifth husband,
When I read out loud to her, some of Garcia Marquez,
When she would patiently correct my pronunciation,
Telling me the meaning of certain words,
Digressing at times to personal associations…

Like when she and one other girl stole into the convent garment room,
Rummaged among the clothing, first swathing their torsos,
In long, running girdles, then donning the tunics, scapulars, coifs…
And looking at themselves in a swivel mirror,
Hugging each other with mocking astonishment,
Before sliding out of the habits to slip away undiscovered.

Luz was at the convent school to age 14,
Stolen from her mother,
As Luz told my wife,
Old maid aunts disapproved of her mother,
And after her father died of political wounds,
They took her,

Just as after Luz’s first divorce,
With the irony, the rhyme of history,
Her Colombian husband took her two babes,
Though in their twenties, they returned to her,
Carlos the message maker first, and then Matilda,

On her first day with her mother, Matilda sat in my office,
Waiting, crying, while I read from “Cien Anos de Soledad.”
Although I saw her from time to time,
Matilda never sat in my office again.

The winter when I read to Luz,
The light would be gone by the end of the day.
Sometimes I would accompany her to her car,
Sometimes I would hold her arm as we traversed the icy walk,
Lightly, to hold her up, just for balance, providing support,
But not too much.
LWL/January 4 2010

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Deadline for POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

WATCH this month’s poetry readings performed by professional actors:
http://www.wildsoundfestival.com/may_2015_poetry_readings.html

Watch Recent Poetry Readings:

Watch Previous Poems turned into movies: