Read Poetry: Conquer The Fear, by Grace Mavodza

Face to face,
No, face my mind.
Looking within
The dark abyss.

There she lurks
My other half.
Her eyes glow red.
A piercing hue,
That burns right through my inner core.

As she glides across my mind with ease
Hairs stand on end,
Cold clammy skin,
Goosebumps appear
“Lord help, please hear!”

Must face her now.
Must face my fear.
The inner demon
That lives within.


Genre: Fear, Conquering fear, darkness, facing inner demons

Read Poetry: “Sleep No More”, by Kim Michelle Ross

Sleep evermore my love,

Your betraying lies,

Unhinged and broke my heart.

It was the blackest day,

At the brightest hour,

When my love finally soured.

Your despairing pleas,

Failed to sway my forgiveness.

Bang, went the gun, it had to be done.

Splashes of red my only recall,

I did not care, love was no more.

My regrets numbered none.

I’m glad you’re dead,

And but a fading memory,

Yet, I will sleep never-more.

Read Poetry: OUCH!, by Andrianne Philippou

This comes as no surprise, you see 
I always felt this had to be. 
There is a certain path you know, 
a way to learn, a way to grow. 
For here the road is split in two, 
one track for me, and one for you. 
So as I walk, my steps unsure, 
I stumble slightly, sometimes fall. 
And as I struggle hard to stand 
and carry on without your hand, 
I realise that I’m doing fine. 
Horizons beckon, the sun still shines. 
The rainbow hasn’t lost its colour, 
and so what if the poppy’s pallor 
needs a little extra sparkto stir the  
meadow or the park? 
I know that I will find my way 
(despite the tears that make me stray), 
by daring to believe my dream;  
the trickle of a mountain stream 
that flows, cascading to the sea 
and finds release, as so will we… 
I’m holding on to all that’s real;  
the way you laugh, the way you feel, 
the way we share a thought, our passion, 
a sense that this is beyond fashion. 
For how else can you touch me quite,  
and know my soul, and fit so right? 
For me, this journey holds no fear. 
So please, unlock your heart, my dear…  
© Andrianne Philippou – 
26th April 2008  

Read Poem by Oceana

Genres : love, hurt, revenge, spiritual, philosophical

No Right

You have no right to ask how I am
And no right to an answer
No right even to the thought occuring
Or the breath that bore it
That breathed our moment
In vengeful violence
Spitting and seething spite
In dark deluded condemnation
Of everything you claimed once right.

You have no right to the friendship
That you beat up
And threatened death to the life that bore it
But unabashed and unforgiven
You assume it
Say you don’t need forgiving
He was due it
You’re the master and there’s no chance
He could ever do it.

You have no right to claim regret
No right to say you are sorry
When to every other face is a different story
Where malice remains the prince amonst principalities
And you justify revenge with vivid stories
With you as the chosen one
With you enlightened and not undone.

You have no right to claim to see the truth
Or to be it’s living example
To uphold yourself as one of the few
Yet in the face of everything
This is what you do.
To god and yourself you must justify
Delusion that you can’t deny
Only you can answer why
Only then you cannot lie.

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…. 
Its now all empty within 
Its 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….

Watch the OCTOBER 2017 Poetry Readings

Performed by Elizabeth Rose Morris

Poetry Reading: The Painter, by Theresa Pio

Poetry Reading: LOVE SONG OF A JOURNEYMAN, by Vihang A Naik

Poetry Reading: Precious Little Girl by Murna Safford





























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: Escape, by Farzleen F. Khan

She escaped
The dreadful dread
Broke free from
The clutches
Waiting to hold her
Captive deep
Behind locked gates
Wrathed by a fury
She escaped
She escaped
The feeling of
Having walked
A familiar street
Hassled by hustles
Bogged down
By the boredom
Of having flashing
Camera strobes
Delude her mind
She escaped
She escaped
The crazy act
Of sensationalizing
Everything from
Her morning jogs
To her dragging her
Feet after sips
On the rocks
She escaped
She escaped
The tabloid scenes
The torrid trash talk
The humiliating torment
The badmouthing imprints
The reality that sets her apart
The glam, glit and glory
She escaped
The foundation of her sanity



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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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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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