Tag: poem

Read Poetry: MOM’S ANGEL, Ken Allan Dronsfield

She sits majestically atop the Christmas tree

hair of gold

buttons sparkling

dress of white lace

her wings a stunning silver hue

I watched each year

her being placed

with loving care

upon the tree.

My mother standing back telling Dad,

to the left,

now right,

forward.

The years have now come and gone

Mom and Dad have passed away

the Angel sits in her box now

her dress dirty and worn

hair frizzy & unkempt

buttons don’t shine.

Memories are made and then put away

just like Mom’s beautiful Angel

radiance never forgotten

shining so very bright

each Christmas

Read Poetry: MOST AWAITED GUEST, by Soma Raje

When will the destiny fix our meeting? 
 When I’ll reach the table of my most awaited date..  
When we will have our very first eye contact  
When I’ll actually trust the meaning of fate… 
 
 I’m sick of pinch-hitters, I’m tired of being second.. 
 I don’t want any mean eyes around. 
 Come, crossing them all and hold my hand … 
 
 I’ve been searching for you. 
 Since I thought love exists..  
I know you are somewhere around. 
 Can’t see you because of the cruel midst … 
 
 Don’t you worry, I will not settle for lesser 
 As no one else can be better.. 
 For you, I’ll give my best 
 As baby! you being my most awaited guest …! 
 
 SOMA RAJE 
https://justagirlnextblog.wordpress.com/ 

Read Poetry: PAIN, by Carmen Silva

Category: Pain 
 
 
Drown, drown, drown in pain 
As it floats out of my own soul; 
Deep, deep, deep down into the earth it goes 
As it pours out my mouth as overflows. 
 
Deep, deep, deep my fingers dig the ground 
As I try burying the hurt; 
Choke, choke, choke with the dirt, myself can’t breathe  
As too deep down I go, I go, I go.

By Carmen Silva 

Written Nov. 1st, 2017 
Email: carmensilva@yahoo.com 
Twitter: @Carmen_Silva2 
IG: @carmen_silva_actress 
Website: carmensilva.net 

Read Poetry: Unchanging Penitence, by J.N. McGhee

Genre: Dark, Sad

Love + me will always = pain.
Disappointments and knowledge are the results I gain.
Mending gradually yet the heart remains the same.
Closets are filled to capacity with no vacancy to place the blame.
I hate myself, this flesh never seems to redeem.
Outward appearances capture strangers’ eyes; their conjured reflections evade my dreams.
I’m not good enough; I will never be seen for who, not what, I truly am.
Perfection, requirements, and preferences overwhelm me like a dam.
Scars, bruises, and blemishes leave their mark.
Constant remainders chipping away at me like tree bark.
Beating myself emotionally, physically, mentally has left sensations numb. Damaged beyond repair; I’m an invisible shadow.
No sense of place nor time.
Just a faceless phantom.
No matter what people do to me, for it will never come close as to what I do to myself on the inside.
 I’ll return to that broken mirror forever trying to piece that which I’ve lost…..a shattered image.
Refusing to accept that part of me has died.
But I’ll keep right on coming; believing the lies.

© J.N. McGhee

Read Poetry: Freedom Of Thought, by Sujoy Bhattacharya

Stealing warmth from twinkling stars the Yamuna
was sleeping wearing the blanket of mist  . A rejected
 love soul tormented by the burning spasm of dejection
dragged his languid body lashing his reluctant strides
 with the stubbornness of his decision to  end his life
 drowning  into the placid abysmal depth of the river .
The dreaming Yamuna awakened by the vigorous jerk
 of her sixth sense  glanced on the man standing on
 her bank . Reading his mind she requested Thor to
drink all her water for some time so that the man
 can’t commit suicide. The vanished river bewildered the
man to positive thinking and an ebullient life was saved .

Read Poetry: 929, by Priyanka Mandlekar

Nine to Nine… 
The Innocent face has turned dramatic bad 
The wait for new love is new life 
loving heart is in trouble 
Pleasing tears are now friends of mine… 
Mummy’s daughter is burning 9 to 9… 
 
Don’ts & Do’s is not a worry 
For me my limits are now left far behind 
Everything about you now seems to be mine… 
Daddy’s Princess is Burning 9 to 9… 
 
Love at 1st sight has brought colors 
Worth the risk the glance that proved 
I am new to my own strength 
I find nobody to be mine… 
Loving heart is Burning 9 to 9… 
 
Drowned thou still in hope 
Love for you has kept me alive 
I am gluing the broken pieces of mine… 
Lonely Queen is Burning  9 to 9… 
 
Through scars the smile is still green 
In wait of you to understand years passed by 
I am all yours as much as I am not mine… 
My Heart is Burning 9 to 9…. 
 
It’s now all empty within 
It’s over the idea of love has ruined today and past 
Why we crossed the path which were never meant to be 
I wish my life would be mine… 
An injured heart is Burning 9 to 9….

Poetry Reading: A Single Atom, by Ivor Steven

Performed by Elizabeth Rose Morriss

Get to know the poet:

  What is the theme of your poem?

The poem is about my turmoil of thoughts and doubts, between my recently departed wife, and my starting up of a new relationship.

What motivated you to write this poem?

Lots of bad dreams and guilt.

How long have you been writing poetry?

I’ve been writing poetry for twenty-two years, although I’ve only been going public with my writings for the last eight years.

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

I’d love to have dinner with Leonard Cohen.

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

The curiousity factor of listening to my words being articulated by some-one else, and to have my poem heard by the large audience of Poetry Festival’s readers.

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

Basically I only write poems, however I have written a few short stories.

What is your passion in life?

I’m an Australian, and my main passion is to travel to Canada and America, and visit family/relatives

Read Poetry: Fake News, by Vikky Lonie

I’ve decided to stop reading the news
It’s full of contradiction and misinterpreted views,
Bending of truths like a novelists muse
Inciting inspiration, stimulation, radicalisation but never the truth of the situation
Just a public announcement of the wrong account, a miscommunication or fake revelation
Is it an attempt at entertainment?
Lacking empathy, a cold report with no sympathy
Of death, disaster and misery
Attacking humanity
As they relish at the world flying in to abyss
I can’t be alone, wishing we would all hug and kiss
So, instead I’ve turned to poetry, where theres no need to encourage, provoke or lie
For words of poem can reach the sky, you cant deny
My interpretation is all I need to see
Where thoughts can wander, minds can ponder
I never need to wonder, if what’s written is fact or fiction
As a poet spilling his heart on paper, writing fast, creating friction
He goes to war with every etching
Of love and emotion of pain of gain
It’s truer than the mirror in which you see your face
It reads like silk and flows like lace
Spilling over with generosity, leaving a genuine taste
Whether of love or hate, faith or sin
It’s come from within where only truth can win

 

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Read Poetry: BIRDS FROM THE EAST BY SHARON MO SH

GENRE – ANIMAL LIFE

Birds from the east
Each one a hankery miniature beast
Friends I made by the fields
Everyday I toil until I sweat
But not the feathered chaps of the sky
They are birds from the east
All they do is fly
If not lie in their nests
Waiting patiently by the east coast
Praying for my head to turn west
Look at those black eyes
Getting darker with hanker
Birds from the east
Preying on my crops
All chattering in cabal
They eat their hearts out
Will I turn?
Will I alter my bearing?
What good will it bring
Leaving my paragon for the beast?
I will just wait until the sun set
They are birds from the east
They sleep by the night

 

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