Tag: poet

I’m Sorry, Poetry by Jaco Potgieter

Standing in the ashes of my sorry I dream of what could have been.

Looking at the grey and black I wonder about what came first and last.

How it would have been if I spoke or remained silent a little longer.

What this moment might have looked like if I did more or didn’t do.

In this now exist only the scarred and broken remains of what if?

Touching the torched wood of our togetherness, it crumbles to nothing.

Genre – Dark, Hurt, Love, Painful, Relationships, Sad, Redemption

I’m Sorry by Jaco Potgieter

 

Standing in the ashes of my sorry I dream of what could have been.

Looking at the grey and black I wonder about what came first and last.

How it would have been if I spoke or remained silent a little longer.

What this moment might have looked like if I did more or didn’t do.

In this now exist only the scarred and broken remains of what if?

Touching the torched wood of our togetherness, it crumbles to nothing.

 

Dusty maps in my hands of roads traveled brings no peace, they end here.

Then I cry at the joke of it all, the tortured reality of the path of destiny.

 

I’m sorry.

 

I use the fragments of what should have been to clear a new path.

Then I summon myself to this home of catastrophic annihilation.

I scoop up the remnants of us from the debris with my hands.

I bow my head and with my tears water the green seedling of our new creation.

 

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Brigid, Poetry by Andrea Connolly

Her wingspan shrouded in mystery

The small tortoiseshell rubicund

Ebony and golden forewings

Tangerine surged from chrysalis

A ring of blue, her spell, her veil

Little hands fold hollow reeds

Genre: Fantasy, Life

Brigid by Andrea Connolly

1st of February 2016

 

Her wingspan shrouded in mystery

The small tortoiseshell rubicund

Ebony and golden forewings

 

Tangerine surged from chrysalis

A ring of blue, her spell, her veil

Little hands fold hollow reeds

 

The magical childhood craft

Interwoven square with beams

A Eurasian butterfly with four wings

 

She folds them around blossoms

The little ones, the innocent

Refuge for homeless and landlords

 

She holds them equally at heart

Sainthood flicks wings of grass

 

 

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Sing Anew, O Freedom, Poetry by Jonathan Baltzly

O, hark! Let Freedom sing

Of times anew, times to be

Of days forgotten, days lost

O, see her embark, taking wing

Genre: Rhyme, Political, People, Society

Sing Anew, O Freedom
by Jonathan Baltzly

O, hark! Let Freedom sing

Of times anew, times to be

Of days forgotten, days lost

O, see her embark, taking wing

Flying upon all that lives

“Joy!” She exclaims!

Dark clouds near, now disappear

Light shines in heaven

Let the earth be illuminated!

Freedom and Justice, her friend

Liberty her companion

And more gather in the skies

To sing a new, yet familiar tune.

She is not satisfied,

For Mankind has abandoned Truth,

Her closest confidant.

O, hark! She sheds tears as diamonds.

Joy continues to be silent to her cry

Happiness left the land long ago,

But has promised to return.

“O, Love! You abound in hearts and minds

Perhaps Hope will heal Mankind.”

She sighs again, with Liberty at her side

Patience shows her face;

She is followed by Grace,

And finally Strength,

The legend that trampled Evil to its grave.

Strength lifted up her voice

“O, hark! Today is the day!

Let us join once more

We may face War,

We will serve with Honor,

We will uphold Peace,

And Joy will follow in our wake.”

Freedom stood, looking to the North

“Verily, Strength has proclaimed

And lamented words heard before,

From the voice of Truth itself.”

Thus was the resurrection of Truth,

And it came forth

From the heights and depths

To reclaim its rightful place.

 

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Anxiety, Poetry by Shellie Palmer

Every breath I ever take those moments my hands
tremble and shake. I can’t control it, want to lose it all, then
reminded of my faith. The Lord steers the way.
I will never control my inner self, it just
doesn’t work that way. Anxiety, what’s it all about anyway?

Genre: Mental Health, Anxiety, Depression, People

Anxiety  by Shellie Palmer

Every breath I ever take those moments my hands
tremble and shake. I can’t control it, want to lose it all, then
reminded of my faith. The Lord steers the way.
I will never control my inner self, it just
doesn’t work that way. Anxiety, what’s it all about anyway? It’s a
normal kind of life. I have my happy place and along the way there
is grace. I get the poor pitiful you, nope!, not with me I’m better
off independently free. Anxiety won’t ever take hold of me. I’m gonna
have those day with a cloud over my head. I push it far far away the
light is just up ahead. Anxiety, don’t let it be. It’s nothing more than
uncontrolled feelings. In my heart I see nothing less the Lord gave
me a voice to be there. Together we’ll stand strong, we will just be.
We know what it’s like to have anxiety.
@7:21 pm
Tuesday, Jan. 26,2016

 

 

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Wrecked life in the glow of years that winds through mites of truth, Poetry by Mimmie Dana

Chaos was born under a dark shadow
falls without a safety net down in the abyss
falls for the unfinished task faced by an invisible force of wisdom
choosing the wrong over again
wish to find the meaning
chaos never cries out loud
simply swallows anger harshly

Genre: Life

Wrecked life in the glow of years that winds through mites of truth 

by Mimmie Dana

Chaos was born under a dark shadow
falls without a safety net down in the abyss
falls for the unfinished task faced by an invisible force of wisdom
choosing the wrong over again
wish to find the meaning
chaos never cries out loud
simply swallows anger harshly
without security the fake lackeys are revealed who presumes to ridicule the already mocked soul
misleading direction makes earnings rise up
inventing an impossible way to gain self-respect
complete fall heals wounds
blowing for the years of deception
the cold shower of disclosure vortices up an image of another who wants to love themselves completely whole again
shouting
love me whole
love me more
despite all the wrongs. 

 

 

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Whatever next?, Poetry by Alex Cottle

A seed

May find it’s way

among the soil.

Let it stay, let it grow…

or land they will, the flock of crows.

Genres: Dystopia, relationship, free will and love.

Whatever next? by Alex Cottle

A seed

 

May find it’s way

 

among the soil.

 

Let it stay, let it grow…

 

or land they will, the flock of crows.

 

Either way, it may die.

 

Maybe a butterfly’s wing beat will cause it’s ruin.

 

Perhaps it endures. Whatever next?

 

Shall we stand here, questioning, perplexed?

 

It will grow, taking up precious space.

 

Space that could more than easily be replaced.

 

It is time to decide, is it in our favour?

 

Will it flower? Shall we save her?

 

Or will we uproot it? Call me a traitor.

 

Nature! Nature! Hear my call,

 

please do not stall.

 

Do not make this feeling linger.

 

For is that not why you gave us minds?

 

What use is the mind, when we have conscience?

 

The smart decisions are almost always nonsense.

 

We feel bad, sad, clad in blackmail,

 

irons, chains.

 

But the tick is this my friend, my companion.

 

Whatever we determine is already determined.

 

The purpose,

 

of this seed, rooted inside,

 

grants you permission to think you decide.

 

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The Writers Curse, Poetry by Ganzart

The writers curse
Tagging around like a lady’s purse

Set to always sail on the seas of fiction
continuously sipping of self-deception
Alone is the crew on the ship of imagination

Genre: Rhyme, Artist

The Writers Curse by Ganzart

The writers curse
Tagging around like a lady’s purse

Set to always sail on the seas of fiction
continuously sipping of self-deception
Alone is the crew on the ship of imagination

Hands chained by the illusions of his mind
Bound to always fall for the “one of a kind”
Yet in his pocket lies the key to the solution he never finds

In his greatest fear lies his wealth n treasure
The power of his words he still can’t measure
And their inevitable outcomes pain or pleasure

sinking deeply in the beauty of art
If wishes were horses , carved on the walls of his heart .
You can’t help the tearing apart
When the pen and paper have to part.

The sweet seas of fantasy
were all just a mistress
That sour cold reality
Is the jealous wife in he kisses.

The writers curse
Another blessing in disguise
Read between the lines
And look through water aiming for the skies
And find God present in his verse.

The writers curse , impossible to reverse

Ganzart

 

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Marvelous Universe, Poetry by Karina Pinella

The Marvel Universe—

A world full of superheroes and their nemeses.

Earth is not always their place of birth;

Some hail from distant planets.

Genre: Comic Book, Fantasy, Superhero

Marvelous Universe

By Karina Pinella, 1/28/16

 

The Marvel Universe—

A world full of superheroes and their nemeses.

Earth is not always their place of birth;

Some hail from distant planets.

 

The origin of their powers vary, from accidental to intentional.

Most times triggered by a life of drama (or one big trauma).

A turning point that makes them live on edge—

An existence full of violence.

 

Some team up in groups of four, five, six, or more,

Such as Fantastic Four, X-Men, and Avengers.

They save the world that’s always imperiled—

In the Marvel Universe.

 

Thanks, Stan Lee,

For a roster full of beings extraordinaire,

Giving our lives vicarious adventures—

A mix of humor, furor, and lots of color.

 

©2016 Karina Pinella

 

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Don’t Leave Me, Poetry by Arian Fatius

Midnight hour is howling
Chilling wind is swirling
It’s raining outside

I come to your room
As you waiting for me
There you are
Tempting me with your beauty

genre : sex, passion, love, couple
Don’t Leave Me

by Arian Fatius

Midnight hour is howling

Chilling wind is swirling

It’s raining outside

I come to your room

As you waiting for me
There you are

Tempting me with your beauty

When I kissed your forehead

Down to your eyes

There I see a beutiful thing

The way you breath

The way you look at me
Stay here a little more

I want to hug you

Eyes that roam

As my finger wander
Your thoughts linger

And I heard your moan

As I lick your neck

Blow my breath on your erected nipple

As your heart is strobing

While you keep stroking me
You moved your hips so intense

As we caressing  each other

Don’t leave me alone

When the pleasure comes
through the cold night
Let’s stay like this a bit more

 

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Today’s NEW Poets and their Poetry

Read the best of NEW Poetry from about the world:

Read the best of NEW Poetry from about the world:

ASSUMPTIONS, by Denise P. Isaac: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/29/assumptions-poetry-by-denise-p-isaac/

ALONE, by Anderson Gomes: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/29/alone-poetry-by-anderson-gomes/

RED WRISTS, by Sanchana Krishnan: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/29/red-wrists-poetry-by-sanchana-krishnan/

SHACKLES OF LIFE, by Lois Terrans Bradbury: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/29/shackles-of-life-poetry-by-lois-terrans-bradbury/

DAS NICHTS, by Juan Antonio Garcia: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/29/das-nichts-poetry-by-juan-antonio-garcia/

COUNTING BRICKS, by Lee Pettengell: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/30/counting-bricks-poetry-by-lee-pettengell/

THE LENGTH OF A KALPA, Kristen Textor: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/30/the-length-of-a-kalpa-poetry-by-kirsten-textor/

ODE TO MARY, by Jordan CROMWELL: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/30/ode-to-mary-poetry-by-jordan-cromwell/

SHORT POETRY, by Vyom Sharma: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/30/short-poetry-by-vyom-sharma/

DON’T, by Eirini Spyridoula Antoniou: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/01/30/dont-poetry-by-eirini-spyridoula-antoniou/

 

 

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