Tag: poetry reading

Poetry Reading: My God, by Logan Clarke

Performed by Val Cole

My God

Has not guaranteed me a reservation in Heaven
Nor has he threatened me with purgatory.
For he knows no purgatory-
Except mental
In the minds of the living.

I walk with God down the beach,
Lie back with him at night
And often am awakened by him
Just to talk
Or listen.

My God
Does not wish to be only an image
Playing hide and seek.
He did not set down conditions
In order to get close to him.
Man himself did that.

I did not find God in some hotel room
between the pages of Gideon.
Nor did he come to me-
Through the lips of men in churches
Who pretend to be holier than me…..

My God
Does not want me to live in fear
Of never being accepted by him
Simply because
I disagree with the organizations
Who are manufacturing and marketing God.

He placed me on Earth to live
And experience life in my own way.

He is there to guide, if I need guidance
To assist if I need help.
When he talks, I listen
When I talk, he listens……

During my time spent on Earth
I will serve my fellow man
If I am able
But never with the intention of “making points”
With God
For I can never bargain my way into Heaven.

My God
Accepts me as I am
And I accept Him as……..
My God

By
Logan Clarke

Read Poem: Sweet Gratitude, by Claudio Laniado

Sweet gratitude because I can walk, talk, eat, drink, enjoy a beautiful sunset , have a home , carry a home within myself, share of myself with loving kindness to those who I meet, and inspiring others to do the same because love and compassion for me is a start of a way to act toward my fellow earthlings.
My love overflows as I tap into the power of love and compassion because love and compassion can be stronger than the love of power.
Our earth may be crumbling but it is to remind us tis time to get out of the mud, to walk together in a path that unites all despite our many differences. It’s time to unite to save any love and compassion you might have.
Our humanity needs you!
Bring on the greatest fight you will have, for love and compassion to your fellow earthlings!
Join us lovers and compassionate people, before the world crumbles. Find gratitude between the lines.

By producer of Forbidden Tango, Claudio Laniado

Poetry Reading: LOVING FEELINGS, by Colin Guest

Performed by Val Cole

LOVING FEELINGS, by Colin Guest

Just to see your face light up with joy
Makes me feel happy to know it is me
That has put such joy back into your life
Your sincere words and loving thoughts
Bring joy and happiness into my life
No one has ever said words like yours
That makes me smile and happy inside
To hear your loving voice when we talk
Makes me know you feel the same as I
The miles between us cannot keep us apart
And soon we will be together once more
To be happy walking along hand in hand

WE CAN DO BETTER, by Gladys Muturi

Genre: Social Commentary, Equality

We Can Do Better

Why is this happening to us?

All of the fights and disagreements

Why are we acting like this?

We’re not animals, We’re human beings

Let’s stop this

All of this is ancient history

Buried and Forgotten

Why we can’t work together?

We can fix things together

We can change together

Without fights or disagreements

No consequences

No warzones

Settle this like we have common sense

No more bordered walls or barbed fence

Just bridges and togetherness

We can stand together

Together we can do better

Blacks and whites

Religious and non-religious

Be better

Show the world how we can do better

Be better human beings

Do you think we can do better?

I know we can do better

Together we can do better

From Ash: Taming the Phoenix, by Abdullah Kinan

Performed by Allison Kampf

POEM:

“Look up at the night sky and count the stars until daybreak; my love for life now exceeds both the number of stars and the time it would take.

To traverse the horizon and navigate the seas, or brave the desert’s barren passages with ease; nothing is an impossible feat.

My love for life is power, empowering, serene. It motivates me to strive for the impossible- it motivates me to fly over obstacles.

I will crash through glass ceilings until the shattered mirrors falling over me reflect my yearning for the parts of myself that I’ve lost along my journey.

I yearn for the parts of me that drifted away like dust particles intercepting the rays of light that peer through the window at sunrise- perhaps those parts of me prevented me from inner peace.

Perhaps you’ll find those parts of me and I’ll find you- perhaps all hardship is a tool that we can utilize to hammer these lessons into our beings.

Perhaps some lessons are harder to penetrate- so never quiver or quake at the sight of the path towards the next mountain after you’ve just climbed to the first peak, because, verily, with every hardship there is ease.”

The irony, by Coco

http://www.poemsfromheartcom.wordpress.com/

What are you tryna do? I’m somewhat confused.
Why are you on the ground, acting like you’re bruised?

Why is it dat you seem to suffer?
When I was the one who had it tougher.
And even though I couldn’t have had it rougher,
I wished at least you were happy, duffer.

A little of smartness, with a hint of heart.
Your special recipe. Your perfect black art.
I was the one left with a bleeding heart.
So why are you acting like you’re the one hurt?

The beautiful dream that I so lovingly built,
Covered in red with the blood that you spilt.
You chose to be the one holding the hilt.
So why all of a sudden, the facade of guilt?

I was the one caged in what was your lair.
So why do you seem like the one in despair?
You take the blame and act like you care.
Trying to make me feel bad? Isn’t it unfair?

You said you liked dark but your favorite was red.
Oh how I loved you! For you, I bled.
But you wouldn’t see it. Turned your back on me instead.
And you say you loved me too now dat I’m dead?

Why are you still alone?
I thought that we were done.
You say you’re trying to atone.
But what’s dead will never be reborn.

Keep your sarcasm and your wisdom.
You can go back to where you came from.
Barge in my life and played the system.
You’re the criminal. Not the victim.

What suffering do you talk about? What pain?
When it was me who was left barely sane.
You won the battle. So why dont you go reign?
Declare yourself the king, almighty and vain.

POETRY READING: CLAP, by Darell J Philip

Performed by Allison Kampf

Windows opened
Mum and I screaming at the top of our…
You know, that organ which
Mr Corona makes the point of his attack
Our voices in unison with the carnival of faces
Hand clapping together among our block
For those brave front liners
Robed in white and blue
Their lives risking for Queen and Country
For me and you

A sign in a window reads
Hang in there Hackney
Locked down, stuck in isolation
Longing to be free
Hooting and beeping cars drive by
An outpouring of love filling the illuminous sky
Dethroning Mr Corona from his royal seat
His nasty legacy we will surely defeat

An unusual crescendo took place that night
The community together an awesome sight
It was to everyone’s most absolute delight
To see Mr Corona given a most chilling fright
For all the lives he’s cruelly taken away
For all those families we kneel and pray
Our frontline heroes – relics of the past
For you we clap knowing this too shall past

The morning after the night before
A bright smile beams across the sky
As a reminder of that glorious day soon to come
When from this earth with angel’s wings
We take off and fly.

POETRY READING: What Will Be Your Legacy, by The P.O.E.T. aka The Anointed Pen

Performed by Allison Kampf

By: Noel A. Figueroa (The P.O.E.T. aka The Anointed Pen) ©2020

When your book is opened, what will be read in the story of your life?
What will be your story that is on display for all to see?
Will it speak of your courage to persevere?
Will it speak of your determination and faith?
Will it speak of your kindness and compassion for others?
Will it speak of your empathy and diligence?
Will it speak your reflection of your love and hope in God?
Will it speak of the love you have for yourself, your community, your people?

What will be your legacy?
Will it speak your ancestor’s names and the roads they paved for you?
Will it speak of their sacrifices and their successes?
Will it speak of the lessons learned from their failures?
Will it put your achievements on display?
Will your own failures be lessons learned and used as stepping-stones?
Will it speak of a life well lived to its full capacity in purpose?

What will be your legacy?
When the children gather around and ask you to tell the stories from your time,
What will your share that will enlighten their minds?
What will be the level of your impartation?
Will you tell them that as you received help to be the vessel of blessing to others?
Will you tell them that respect, empathy and compassion are non negotiable?
Will you tell them to stand for something even if it means standing alone?
Will you tell them that one of the greatest weapons that you can have is love & respect for self?
Will you tell them that it’s because if those that came before us that we have the ability to go further and do greater works?
Will you tell them that when their purpose is clear, their passion is defined, and their vision is focused that their dreams and goals are possible.
What will be your legacy?

Straightened My Life, by Wesley Hesketh

I walked a crooked path in life, sinning every day.

Drugs my meal of fun. Hiding in them

to get away from all the pain and suffering. From birth

to fourteen I was physically and verbally abused. At

fourteen, I was left on a street corner.

I would eat out of garbage cans or steal from the stores

just to survive. I was arrested and put in juvenile hall,

where I was beat up and raped.

My mother can and got me out. She was living with

an ex boxer. He liked to knock me around like a

punching bag.

At eighteen I ran away and thinking it would get better,

I joined the Army. I was wrong. In boot camp the sergeant

pushed me around and verbally abused me. It was like that

for sixteen weeks.

Then I went to Korea. I was put on the

front line to help keep the South safe from the North. Stress

was a daily thing and fear of being shot went along with it.

That’s where I got hooked on drugs. When I can back stateside,

I fell in with a bad crowd. I become a garbage can junky,

that means I took any drug I was given.

While I was on drugs I went through four very abusive marriages.

Up until then the only God I knew was one that sit in heaven.

He judged everyone and if you sinned you went to Hell.

So I could not look to him for help.

The rest of my life was a blur of mental hospitals. Into the hospital

out on the street over and over again.

Then one day I was sitting on the street corner looking for drugs.

A man came and sit down next to me. I thought he was looking

for drugs too. I shouted at him to get away but he did not move.

“Son,” he said, “What are you looking for?” Drugs I said you got

some? “I got something better,” he said. “it is God.” Oh no you don’t

I know about your God and He is a bad God, judging people and

sending then to hell.

He laughed, “My God loves you.” How could He love me I am just

a sinner? “He sent His Son Jesus to take away your sins.” How could

He do that I asked?

“Jesus was hung on a cross to suffer for your sins. He died so you

will never be judged for your sins now and forever.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. How would He do that for me? “He did that

because He loves you. Three days later He was resurrected from the grave,,

now He is in Heaven at the right hand of God. He intercedes for you.”

I looked at him and he smiled at me. No buddy smiled like that ever.

“Come let me help you.”

He led me to a clinic and introduced ne to a counselor. We talked and

she said I had PTSD and was bipolar.

That was twenty years ago. I found a Bible based churched, and found

a home there. I read my bible every day, and pray to God, Jesus, and

the Holy Spirit, I am no longer on drugs and have a handle on my

problems. Today I no longer walk that crooked road. I know God loves

me and He loves you too.

Cold-Turkey Cuts, by Saleda Abdul

I’m somehow paler now than I was through Winter

And ghosting when I’d rather be out toasting,

Even if it were still out frosting

Nah b, but I might just be lying to me,

Cuz time is teaching me what boundaries and growth mean

Like putting things in their proper place

Instead of tossed in a drawer of disheveled space

Because you don’t get taught the how,

Always just told the what

But I’m uncovering how poetry is my recovery

For, it is perspective renewed

When I can hardly see past the overcasts

And my eyes stay open doing unpaid overnights

Still, to honor ALL the parts that come with You

With the space to feel your feels

And just give it some comfort food

Or maybe a nap,

And take it all in with just a baby step

And, I couldn’t so much regret the ease..

For the tomorrows to perhaps bring a better breeze

By: Saleda Abdul