Tag: poet

PAIN, Poetry by Sophia Margulies

Tears stream down my face

As I breathe heavily

My eyes stare into my reflection

Not a blink

Tear drops roll slowly

Genre: Sad

Pain
by Sophia Margulies

Tears stream down my face

As I breathe heavily

My eyes stare into my reflection

Not a blink

Tear drops roll slowly

Then all at once

I grab the counter hoping for some support

But end up losing my strength

And falling

I sink until I am having trouble breathing

I gasp for air

But I end up breathless

My heart pounds so loudly

My ears ring

I close my eyes

That is when the flashbacks occur

I see the fights

I hear the words

I see my hope diminishing

I put a smile

Because that’s all that’s left of me

My eyes shine

Not from happiness

But from the acceptance of one thing

Pain

Something unfixable

I tape up the fractures dug deep into my skin

But tape is replaceable

With new wounds

That can now only scar

Maybe one day

I will be happy

This life full of maybes

When will I finally

Smile

And

Mean

It

 

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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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Disgrace, Poetry by Jasmine Fredericks

Hell-o world,
It’s such a wonderful place.

And just in case, I’ll reiterate
This world of mine is not a disgrace.

Genre: Rhyme, Life

Disgrace
by Jasmine Fredericks

Hell-o world,
It’s such a wonderful place.

And just in case, I’ll reiterate
This world of mine is not a disgrace.

It’s such a wonderful place.

It’s filled with bombs,
Yet we sit watching our sitcoms,

We allow ourselves to be brainwashed
Let the pain wash away.

We watch families screaming for help through our screens,
We switch the channel because it becomes too hard to breathe.

Just in case, I’ll reiterate
This world of mine is not a disgrace.

It’s such a wonderful place,

Children orphaned and fighting at war,
Yet we will restore our walls and keep ourselves safe.

We spread our love against hate,
In order to deflate their destruction.

Signs say ‘Under-construction’,
And we say we are alright and over look the repercussions.

Just in case, I’ll reiterate
This world of mine is not a disgrace.

It’s such a wonderful place,

Just in case, I’ll reiterate
This world of mine is such a disgrace.

We destroy our own human race,
We try to retrace our steps and find
We’ve been left behind.

Just in case, I’ll reiterate
This world of mine is such a disgrace.
 

 

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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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DIARY OF THE ÜBERMENSCH, Poetry by Juan Antonio Garcia

DEC. 17th. 1957

The starry night announced a magnificent day tomorrow. Everything around me spins like planets orbiting their stars. So much to learn and so little time to make it. The alignment of these five planets brings some strange energy to me. I feel one with the Universe. One with the cosmos, indivisible.

Genre: Life, Society

DIARY OF THE ÜBERMENSCH
by Juan Antonio García

DEC. 17th. 1957

The starry night announced a magnificent day tomorrow. Everything around me spins like planets orbiting their stars. So much to learn and so little time to make it. The alignment of these five planets brings some strange energy to me. I feel one with the Universe. One with the cosmos, indivisible.

JAN. 9th. 1958

Sometimes I think life imitates literature. All these books in my living room are but elements to transcend reality. A distorted reality. Nothing is real but in its essence. And this essence we cannot reach. Thus it is its own nature, that it doesn´t exist in our known dimensions.

I imagine multiple dimensions waiting to be discovered. Reality has its own limits.

JAN. 27th. 1958

My wife, Andrea, is more beautiful than ever today. Her smile illuminates the whole house. I feel like a king by her side. Her nervous looks when we make love. Her infinite kisses. Her eyes flooding desire.

I´m a prisoner of her world. I live for her. Without her, my life would be empty. Love spreads all around. And it is this love for Andrea that fulfills my days, my nights, my dawns…

Sydney Stratton. London. 1958

 

 

 

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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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Loving Our Blue Earth, Poetry by Betsy Brandt

Love spoke and made our blue earth, not to be the center of the universe, but its muse,

Love spoke and made our blue earth the third rock from the sun, Terra, solid, drifting, with vibrant, exploding life,

Genre: Life, Society, Love

Loving Our Blue Earth
By Betsy Brandt

Love spoke and made our blue earth, not to be the center of the universe, but its muse,

Love spoke and made our blue earth the third rock from the sun, Terra, solid, drifting, with vibrant, exploding life,

Love spoke and made the third rock spin and circle around the sun, with a tilt Terra spins, making seasons abound, arrays of colors bursting,

Love spoke and made Luna, dazzling sister to our blue earth, tugging, teasing our waters, one declared we’d often visit, just because,

Love spoke and made our sun, stunningly rise and fall peacefully for our blue earth, but no, Love gently spins and turns Terra to the East each day,

Love spoke and made our sun, Helios, our brightest Hero Star, one we could ever follow, never floating away, like Love itself,

Love spoke and made our Star give our blue earth, light, life, our sight, warmth- just right, boundless energy, gratefully received,

Love spoke and made our blue earth ride in the Galaxy of Milky Way, majestic spiral,
glowing band, heavenly teeming of kinship,

Love spoke and made Love to be written in the Sky, never alone, designed, evolving,
sustained harmony, loving our blue earth, gracefully conceived for Love.

 

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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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ROOTS, Poetry by Malika Cholwe

I’m in my element ,
I’m free,
But I’m still bound
I hold the true knowledge and the foundation,
yet my glory doesn’t boast,

Genre: Life, Society

Roots
by Malika Cholwe

I’m in my element ,
I’m free,
But I’m still bound
I hold the true knowledge and the foundation,
yet my glory doesn’t boast,
I stem the very thing that creates a being,
I run deep,
but every single moment of the day I am passed by,
no one notices me.

I contain facts, hidden secrets ,
beauty ,
but never do I compete ,
for I am unique ,
unique in a way that not even my successor knows.
I am a root ,
I am roots .

 

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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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Tucson The Ma Nonpareil, Poetry by Madathil Rajendran Nair

Betwixt a crimson west of sunset
Rainbow-crowned thunder cloud on the east
Swept by ferocious gales
Lay Tucson waiting
Her locks scattered
Her feet on the north
On the Catalina mounts
Head pillowed on Santa Rita
Voluptuous, for her mate, the sky to descend

Genre: Nature

Tucson The Ma Nonpareil
by Madathil Rajendran Nair

Betwixt a crimson west of sunset
Rainbow-crowned thunder cloud on the east
Swept by ferocious gales
Lay Tucson waiting
Her locks scattered
Her feet on the north
On the Catalina mounts
Head pillowed on Santa Rita
Voluptuous, for her mate, the sky to descend

As mesquites, palo verdes, oaks, figs, acacia
Waved their heads in demoniac dance
Lighted by an unearthly shine
As though possessed by the elements
An evening was about to gasp its last

And then it came in a clatter
The sky with fingers of rain
Stoked her insanity as she giggled
In puddles and streams
As the Rillito swelled in orgasmic passion
Oh, what a beautiful night it was to begin!

And what happened then
To the luminescent fig beetles
Delicate dragon flies
Arizona sister butterflies
That throng the sunny days
Of Tucson’s breeze and glitter?

Don’t ask stupid mind
She is a mother, she knows
She had them hidden safe
Under her locks
As the sky stoked and stoked
And as she giggled without end
That beautiful rainy night
Tucson, the ma nonpareil!

 

 

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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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Shoddy Bar, Poetry by Madathil Rajendran Nair

Genre: Addiction

Shoddy Bar
by Madathil Rajendran Nair

They sat facing one another
Inside the shoddy bar
Swarthy figures
Like in American cartoons
Their visages waxen
Looks distant
Cadaverous blank

The figures of Jesus On The Cross
His pain lighted
By a low watt crimson bulb
Smiling Lord Ganesh
Granting boons
With burnt-out incense sticks
Before him
Presided over the scene

Each had a burden
Perhaps the dejection
Due to cruel rejection
Of the past to bury
Or a long-lost love
A broken wedlock
Death of a sweet-heart
A broken heart of some sort

They sat
Puffing at their fags
Or beedis
Or whatever they had
The glow at the tip
Of what they smoked
Said it all
The burn that rued their hearts

Aches of the like
The winds of the plains
Could hardly hope to soothe
Angst, the wisdom
Of the silent mounts around
Could ever undo

They sat puffing and drinking
In silence at the cacophonous bar
Shoddy, dilapidated
Infested with flies
Flying insects and mice

Dreaming they could once again
Sit with their kids
Under hurricane lamps
Late into the night
Helping them with their lessons
As the clouds rumbled
On distant mountain tops

As their wives garnished
Some favourite dish
In smoky kitchens unlit
Wiping burning eyes
With greying sari tips

Later to return
To their late night beds
To grant midnight warmth
Of sweat and love
That made the nights
More odoriferous
Than the incense burnt
Before indifferent Gods

They longed and longed
As every drink sank
Into their burning core
To return to the shores of love afar
As the world outside brimmed
Calling them drunkards

Refusing to grant
There are addictions of sorts
Religion, power and fads
Women, avarice, greed
That ruined humankind
More than the drinks
The entire humanity drank

With their glasses emptied
They would now decamp
Like moths fleeing a dying lamp
Into the night’s waiting arms
To the big bar under the shimmering stars
Where the cups are full again
With tears frothing in grief and pain

Where they would lie wide awake
After a fitful nap past midnight
On their unkempt beds like dried-up twigs
To roll and roll alone in pain
Sob and cry again in vain
And sing to far off receding plains
Where their solace hidden, remains

 

 

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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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Endless Tragedy, Poetry by Madathil Rajendran Nair

There was a grand-father tamarind tree
In front of my ancestral home
Pointing a bare finger into the sky

In the grey of monsoon drizzle
Early in the morning
A brooding crow which had a hole in one of its wings
Used to perch on it

Genre:  Life

Endless Tragedy
by Madathil Rajendran Nair

There was a grand-father tamarind tree
In front of my ancestral home
Pointing a bare finger into the sky

In the grey of monsoon drizzle
Early in the morning
A brooding crow which had a hole in one of its wings
Used to perch on it

That was my pre-teen childhood
When I had two aunts
With two cows – one white and the other grey
Whose calves were my constant companions
As I wandered in surrounding woods
Watching birds laboring at their nests

We had kerosene lamps then
Under which I used to mug up lessons
When I looked askance at the sky
The orange Arcturus
Winked at me from Bootes
Leaves giggled in the wind

My dad took his pompous strolls
In the sprawling courtyard
Watching if I misbehaved
As mom garnished
Chutney for breakfast
Spreading dosas on the pan

Those were beautiful days
Which I took for granted
Would ever remain
Unchanged through to endless time

But, alas, as time sped
As I witnessed my body change
Through teenage to adulthood
Each of the things I loved
Vanished one after another

Mom and dad were washed away
In the tides of time
So were the aunts
Someone axed the tamarind tree
The crow made homeless perished
The cows and calves too disappeared
Into the hungry bowels of abattoirs

The house was sold
New ones displaced the woods
As I fled to distant lands
A wandering nestless bird
Ever on restless wings

Aging all the time
Into an insipid mass
Of failing musculature
Through pain and fatigue
Into the grey and wrinkles
Of a geriatric mess

When the wick of knowing fades
In slumber’s chamber every night
The mess does wonder
What is it that has remained
Unchanged watching the river of time
Displace the known with unknown things
Wash a body into bones and skin

Yet, the mess languishes in mess
Never ever able to accept
That it really is the witness
The changeless awareness
That remains ever untouched
Lo, my tragedy is thus abetted

 

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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 Journey With Love, Poetry by Natalie Liessmann

She felt the sting of salt water tears

Streaming down from her eyes

“If we are supposed to be together…

Then please help me!”

Genre: Love/Self-Love

The Journey With Love
by Natalie Liessmann

She felt the sting of salt water tears

Streaming down from her eyes

“If we are supposed to be together…

Then please help me!”

To her angels she cried

The angels gathered together

To rush in and help this love

They knew the only way to assist her

Was to free her from a man undeserving of

The just woman sat there crying

Wiping her tears on her shirt

“We are going to help you”

The angels said…

“Only, this is going to hurt.”

The woman could not hear it,

But soon enough she’d see

Just what the angels meant

When her beloved walked away

And she fell down on her knees

She cried out in pain

“I asked you for help angels!

How could you do this to me?”

The angels wrapped their wings around her

“Sweet child,” they whispered, “can’t you see?”

“We gave you what you asked for…

A life filled with more love…

Now is your chance to connect with source

And fill yourself from above.

Take this time to recover

And heal all that’s been broken.

And over time you’ll learn to love

Even more than just words spoken.

You’ll see that the love you crave from him

Has been in you all along

And the memory of this pain will disappear

As your heart learns the lyrics to a new song.

So do not fear sweet soul

That your option for love was just that one

For in darkness you begin to fly away

Your journey with love…has only begun.”

Written By Natalie Liessmann CEO of Soul Remedy LLC

Check out the site: http://www.soulremedyllc.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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That Monster, Poetry by Xiomara Colon

For every girl that has been touched the wrong way. For every girl that lives in shame everyday. For every girl that can’t find a way out.

This poem is a motivational and painful poem for women who were molested physically and is being haunted by the event.

That Monster
by Xiomara Colon

For every girl that has been touched the wrong way. For every girl that lives in shame everyday. For every girl that can’t find a way out. For every girl that tried to shout to get away from all the pain caused by someone taking advantage of the voulnerable frame. For all girls that are too afraid to tell, who’s self respect was once high but with that violation fell. For every girl that cries at night recalling that monster that took what he wanted without a fight. It wasn’t your fault so stop living in shame. Remember ma nothing ever happens in rain. Speak out and yell for help, because your a survivor no longer a victim. No, you’ve become wiser. You have more strength than what you see. Don’t lock it up mama just let it be free. He molested your body and broke you down; made you a joke for everyone to clown. Don’t let him take your body and soul. What’s yours is still yours, so take back control.

 

 

 

 

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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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