Decisions, Decisions – Poetry Reading by Marcus J King

Watch the August 2016 Poetry Reading.

DECISIONS, DECISIONS by Marcus J. King http://www.infamouskalel.wordpress.com

Performed by actor Julian Ford

Get to know the poet:

1) What is the theme of your poetry collection?

The theme of the poem is a maze to get out of “something”

2) How would you like people to respond when they read or watch your poetry reading?

I would love for people to think about the direction they are going in and when they get to the ending, laugh, and go back and decide if they actually made a wrong turn.

3) How long have you been writing poetry?

I have been writing poetry for about 3 years now.

4) Do you have a favorite poet?

My favorite poet is Thomas Hardy; Having to do a essay on him opened my eyes to poetry and the different depth it can go.

5) What influenced you to submit to WILDsound and have your poetry performed by a professional actor?

I was browsing some other writers work on WordPress.com Reader. They use a feature called recommended blogs that to relate to mine. I stumbled upon WILDsound and I wanted to reach more people to be noticed in the writing community.

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

My other works are fiction; 2 novels; 1 of them is soon to be published in 2017; short stories; and of course poetry. I am getting into memoirs as well.

7) What is your passion in life?

My passion is write and tell a story that speaks to the heart to make you feel some type of way whether happy, sad, or in between.

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Plastic Succulent, Poetry by Chase Morris

 

Genre: Society

Plastic Succulent by Chase Morris

A new era. Hope for us: fading.
Granted, we had the potential for our essential happiness.

Chasing of the natives this furtive soil became our burden because of our selfishness.

This dark matter born from whores that were then conceived from mold of the Apple.

Over time like that of a rocking chair. The few of us lose our strong purpose from being used.

A fragile lotus standing in the midsts of poison. Peer pressured for evil.

The rest of us lotuses who see consistent hatred, camoflauge under abandoned pavements that have no name.

Where we grow beautifully as we should…

Yet never found or appreciated until we are eradicated.

 

 

 

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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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Touched, Poetry by Terry Hart

Genres: Love, Romantic, Romance, Caring, Sensual, Emotional

Touched by Terry Hart

Destiny has delivered us
through ages, eras and eons
to this moment, it’s enchanting
and here we are
at the same place, same time Entering into this sacred experience
craved by our senses
a feast for our souls, our bodies
and our minds

All this splendor
no other love on this planet
has ever had the flow we generate
it’s a cosmic, celestial movement
that makes earth and heaven, vibrate

As we connect
and become one heartbeat
we are complete
and while we’re apart
I’ll reminisce
how we touched

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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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Decisions, Decisions, Poetry by Marcus J. King

Genre is funny and hope

 

Decisions, Decisions by: Marcus J. King  

 

Stuck. Lost. A brick wall.

 

Go left. Go right.

 

Make a left turn. Around the corner.

 

There…yes go that way!

 

Keep going…a little bit further.

 

Dead end. Dern it.

 

I can’t seem to get a break.

 

U-turn to the last possible mistake.

 

Left turn. Right turn.

 

I see a hill. Go straight.

 

Turn right. Turn left.

 

Keep going….just a few more steps.

 

Ahhh. I see a hill and openness.

 

I found the way. Almost there.

 

Wait no…going too fast.

 

There’s a cliff right there.

 

Abruptly stop.

 

Cliffs edge and the open blue sea.

 

Deceitful little hill back there.

 

Might as well enjoy the view.

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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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Emerald Heart, Poetry by Barbara Hunt

Genre: Dark, Life changing, Loss, and Romance

Emerald Heart by Barbara Hunt

Basking in the strength of your stare
Two stones with intelligence and loyalty take away the air
Always there to help and challenge hard as steel filling with despair unyielding to the truth
Sitting in the silence with nothing needing to be said once comfortable and loving now distant and hard
A shell so deep and unbreakable nothing would be the same not after all trust was lost
A glimmer of hope could be seen as she tried clinging to loyalty but in the blink of an eye it all vanished as the black hole of mistrust tore everything apart
The only thing to be seen was a beautiful shade of green with memories past flooding through as a whisper was heard in the darkness

 

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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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BLOOD OF MY BLOOD, Poetry by Anubhuti Gupta

Genre: Drama, Betrayal, Hurt

BLOOD OF MY BLOOD by Anubhuti Gupta

Once, when Ellaine was a child;
Her mother had told her many a times
It wasn’t the food or water that made a person
But care and warmth and passion and love
And all that which brought a smile during the dark times.

And so as she grew up,
Ellaine thought about it for more than a little while
She thought and thought around the clock
And in the end came to a belief that she held firm like a rock.

She accepted it was love and care that made her alive
Forming a part of her, growing ceaselessly within
With her very blood and veins.

To be fair, Ellaine had a tough life
Often too much for her soft soul to bear
But on one of those gloomy monsoon days
With her old belief she had an epiphany, she says.

You see,
It was betrayal of love that hurt the most
So all she needed to do was let go,
But how could she let go of something that was never hers?
It was then she remembered, What was it she needed to cut off
Of-course, it was forming a part of her, growing ceaselessly within
It was her very blood and veins.
First to be cut was
Fiery passionate string of lovers
Each of whom seeked only pleasures of flesh
And these were the ones that fled far away. should they ever mistakenly touch Ellaine’s spirit.
This wound bled but only little, for much can such love grow?
But blood’s blood and so it cuts however little part of her soul.

Second to be cut was
The friends, family of her own choosing
The one who always promised to watch Ellaine’s back
And also the ones who stabbed the very place they swore to watch.
This cut bled still more, emptying her soul
Of honesty and trust and of the promise of love ofcourse.

Next to be cut was
Her own flesh and bones and her own blood
The wound with the care of her mother, which she now knew was hollow
And the wound with the safety of her father, which was a cover for control.
When this wound bled, its pain was almost too real
Too real for something that was so realistically a hoax.

Last to be cut was
The blood of her blood
It was the one she didn’t even know was there
Because poor Ellaine didn’t even expect her to love herself.
Yet this was the wound that bled and drained her most
It was the only thing in Ellaine’s plan that went off-course.

Well did Ellaine die, you must wonder:
Why, ofcourse she did; don’t you remember?
Without care and warmth and passion and love
There is no person.
Such depth was in the wisdom of Ellaine’s mother.

 

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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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A Black Women’ Plea, Poetry by Latonia Sears

Genre: Life, Society

A Black Women’ Plea 
 by Latonia Sears
 
 
I am so tired of all the death an destruction 
the collection of lifeless bodies is reaking 
and has left an odor 
 
The smell of injustice is fowl  
and is leaving a strong scent in the air 
the disgusting fragrance of death 
 
While all of the victims families 
watch all of these black men 
taken down and laid to rest 
 
No politician or public servant  
had the forsght to shed a tear 
it only hit home for them  
 
when some of their comrades 
were taken away from here 
even then they still won’t stop this and quit 
 
To serve and protect or protect and serve 
either way it always turns to death in the end 
like they hate us and are not interested in making a mends 
 
They are taking lives at an enormous rate 
most of the time it is out right murder 
fueled by racially motivated hate 
 
The life of a black man has no worth to these servants 
not the lives they have taken or the families 
they caused so much sorrow 
 
Knowing their husbands, fathers and brothers 
won’t be here tomorrow although throughout 
time we have continued to survive 
 
Even for all this time  
while we have been continuously 
been persecuted and shoved asside 
 
 
We will stand up and say enough is enough 
and we are not taking it anymore 
remembering to show unity as we walk through that door 
 
Black has always had black power  
not power over black 
wev’e already won that fight 
 
We are Americans who demand justice 
because we are a part of this country 
our contributions are endless 
 
 
We have fattened the pockets of many 
some wrong, some right 
some who are not afraid to stand up for what’s right 
 
If Martin were here what would he do? 
What about Malcolm or Mandella  
what would they say and do? 
 
It has become a national crisis 
none of us are safe  
from these men in blue 
 
“By The People” “For The People” 
are these the same people  
as me and you 
 
 
 
 

 

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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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You Noticed, Poetry by Ivan Jenson

Sometimes
I just disappear
into the patterns
of the tablecloth
and wallpaper

Genre:Romantic, Love

You Noticed by Ivan Jenson

Sometimes
I just disappear
into the patterns
of the tablecloth
and wallpaper
and at other times
I am the floral
centerpiece
sometimes I
am the embarrassing
coffee stain
but sometimes
I am the
vintage wine
sometimes
I am the
apple cider
of your eyes
and then
suddenly
I am as far
away as
the man on the
quarter moon
taking a cold
meteor shower
a sight only
a geek
with a telescope
would be
interested in
and sometimes
you give me
one hundred
percent of your
attention
and I am
a crowned
prince of
infinite
possibilities
and ruler
of your smile

Bio:

Ivan Jenson is a fine artist, novelist and contemporary poet. His artwork was featured in Art in America, Art News, and Interview Magazine and has sold at auction at Christie’s. Ivan was commissioned by Absolut Vodka to make a painting titled “Absolut Jenson” for the brand’s national ad campaign. His Absolut paintings are in the collection of the Spiritmusuem, the museum of spirits in Stockholm, Sweden. Jenson’s painting of the “Marlboro Man” was collected by the Philip Morris corporation. Ivan was commissioned to paint the final portrait of the late Malcolm Forbes. Ivan has written two novels, Dead Artist and Seeing Soriah, both of which illustrate the creative and often dramatic lives of artists. Jenson’s poetry is widely published (with over 500 poems published in the US, UK and Europe) in a variety of literary media. A book of Ivan Jenson’s poetry was recently published by Hen House Press titled Media Child and Other Poems, which can be acquired on Amazon. Two new novels by Ivan Jenson entitled, Marketing Mia and Erotic Rights have been published hardcover and are available for purchase at bookstores worldwide. Ivan Jenson’s website is: http://www.IvanJenson.com

 

 

 

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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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She Dreams of Dragonflies, Poetry by Cynthia Mansfield

The wide eyed child stood silently
With a faraway look everyone could see
Her mama looked down,smiled and took her hand
What’s wrong, girl, what are you trying to understand?
Waiting for the answer like only a mother can.

Genre: Life, Society

She Dreams of Dragonflies
by Cynthia Mansfield
@GypsyCyn1

The wide eyed child stood silently
With a faraway look everyone could see
Her mama looked down,smiled and took her hand
What’s wrong, girl, what are you trying to understand?
Waiting for the answer like only a mother can.

Lost in thought, the little girl replied
Mama, where do dragonflies go to dream?
Where do they go to die?
Are they sleeping in the tall pine trees?
Or high in the clouds where they see everything
Where do they go when they fly?
Is it a place far away?
Is it a place we cannot see?
Do they sleep with the angels
In a red & purple sky
Or sit quietly in the clouds on grandpa’s knee?

Her questions came as no surprise
Her crystal blue eyes were always gazing at the sky
Watching for the birds, the ladybugs and butterflies
Mama sat down, pulling her daughter close
Pondering the questions the child had just posed,
Remembering a fairy tale her daddy once told
Just an old legend from long ago
With a sigh, she held her daughter’s hands
And let the story begin…

There’s a tale told from days of old
Of what became of lost souls
It was said that when a person dies
Their soul was set free and rose to the sky
Drifting in the clouds, awaiting their demise.

For some, their journey is done
And to the heavens they will continue on
For others, they are sent down below
To spend eternity in the dark and alone,
Those who remained were stuck in between
Until they could be reborn, to live again
You could say they were angels in training
Bound for the heavens but for one lesson remaining.

The angel elders appointed a soul guardian
A beautiful silvery white gossamer dragon
She would gather the souls and softly sing
Comforting & caring for them like her own offspring,
But the souls were restless and wanted to stray
The dragon opened her arms so they could go play
And thousands of little angels spread their tiny wings.

When the sun would hide and night took over the skies
The guardian would call the angels to her side
But the angels were bored and loved to fly
So when the dragon slept they would sneak away
And in the clouds they would dance and play.

Well, the devil was impatient and soon grew tired
Of waiting for souls to strengthen his fires
So when the dark would fall, off he’d go
Waiting for a gypsy wind to blow,
And when the angels wings glistened in the light of day
The devil swooped in and stole the helpless souls away.

The angel elders were greatly dismayed
The beautiful dragon cried and hung her head
Blaming herself for the souls being dead
But in her sorrow, she devised a plan
Gathering her remaining angels, she quietly began.

She folded her wings, holding the souls close
What magick she used, no one truly knows
But that night when the dragon spread her wings
The air was sweet, the angels began to sing,
That gypsy wind started to blow
A blue moon shone on the world below
The angels sang a soft and lovely tune
And, with a sigh, and not a moment too soon
Lightning flashed from the dragon’s eyes
And out from the clouds came the dragonflies.

Now you know, the angels loved to fly
So at night they would sneak away from heaven
Visiting the world below in disguise
They would streak across the sky at night
Leaving a trail of stars in their flight
Circling the moon & making it glow
Dancing on the gypsy wind that would blow.

Yes indeed, the devil was perplexed
He was certain that this was some kind of hex
In his anger, he yelled out a curse
Any angel not back in heaven by the break of dawn
Is doomed to remain on earth from that moment on.

The child asked her mom, how can that be?
Dragonflies are stuck here for eternity?
Mama smiled and said, it’s a bittersweet end
They are doomed to live over and over again.

Oh but there’s more, just wait and see
There’s one way for them to be set free
The legend says the devil’s curse
Was too strong & could not be reversed
But the dragon cast her own little spell
A secret the angel elders swore to never tell,
But its said if you look to the sky
And a dragonfly passes you by
If you make a wish and close your eyes
He will fly away on a gypsy wind
Free to be reborn into this world again.

The child seemed happy as they headed home
Suddenly the skies above didn’t seem so unknown
Later that night, when it was time for bed
She hid under her covers and rested her head
But her mind started to wander and sleep would not come
So over to the open window she did roam.

Lost in thought, her blue eyes sparkled like the stars
She held out her hands and suddenly, there he was
Blue as the moon with wings that glowed
With a sound like angels singing soft and low,
Then all was silent, no words were said
But her wish was like a song in her head
With that, he flew away with the gypsy wind
Ready to be reborn into this world again….

Some boys dream of shiny fast cars
Playing baseball and being rock stars
But alone at night
They all stare at the sky
And wonder why they can’t fly.

Some girls dream of little june bugs
Butterfly kisses and daddy’s hugs
But not this one, no sir, no lies
Can you guess why?
This girl dreams of dragonflies…
 

 

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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

Watch Poetry performance readings:


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My Life Tumbled and I Fell, Poetry by A.Goomer

When you lose someone you love, it’s hard to be strong,
When you lose that connection and bond it’s hard to go on.

You find yourself at the depths unable to cope,
You don’t have the strength to look ahead for any hope.

Holding on to every piece of them you have,
How could you leave me Dad?

Genre: family, depression, suicide, grief, loss, inspirational, hope

My Life Tumbled and I Fell by A.Goomer

When you lose someone you love, it’s hard to be strong,
When you lose that connection and bond it’s hard to go on.

You find yourself at the depths unable to cope,
You don’t have the strength to look ahead for any hope.

Holding on to every piece of them you have,
How could you leave me Dad?

The death of someone close to you makes you think,
Maybe life isn’t all rosy and pink.

How can this be happening? What am I going to do?
Will I forever feel lost, alone and blue?

They say time can heal a broken heart,
It gets better, but some days it pulls apart.

Feeling left behind is a horrible feeling,
A lot of nights are left staring at the ceiling.

When tragedy strikes, you see things in a new light,
Life doesn’t seem so bright.

Focus on your happiness with the family and friends you chose,
The sad days will lessen along with your all-time lows.

We must pick ourselves up and live with the living,
These ghosts we see are not giving.

 

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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

Watch Poetry performance readings:

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