Tag: poetry reading

Cosmogony, by Iuliana Pașca

I would like to tell you about my birth
but how to start with no beginning?
…
Mother said I was born
ahead of my time;
I don’t remember,
but I know I was there when
I also gave birth to my mother.

I saw when from the heart
the galaxies
gushed streamingly,
suns were smiling on the spine
rasing satellites
from the tireless breath.
Neurons formed stars
in the rainbow hair,
while Mars was preparing
for the fight.

From the fingers of the left hand
it detached,
together with the rings, Saturn
then, as lightning,
Jupiter came out of nowhere,
and to my feet
was lying down
the Earth.

Iuliana Pașca (born on 26th of March, 1991 in Romania), studied Romanian Language and Literature-Chinese Language and Culture at Faculty of Letters (2010-2014), gaining two scholarships to study in China (2012-2014). She got her bachelor in Philology with the thesis Madness in Literature, graduated (2017) the Conflict Management International Master Program with the dissertation paper Mediation System in Mainland China and presented a series of research papers such as Diaoyu Islands-a contemporary dispute between China and Japan at international conferences at Università della Svizzera italiana, Lugano, Switzerland (2016).

She participates in literary circles in Romania and overseas. She published in ARTivated Album (2015), anthologies of poetry (2018, 2020), but also in numerous literary magazines from Romania. She made her editorial debut with the trilingual (Romanian-Italian-English) poetry volume Reflectările unei molecule / Riflessioni di una molecola / Reflections of a molecule (Ecreator, Baia Mare, 2020). She teaches English in Barcelona, Spain since September 2019.

„Iuliana Pașca orchestrates the language register in an original and daring way, without prejudice to the reader’s sensibilities, so that, from the beginning of the book one has the impression that the author addresses an exhortation to be more open, more relaxed in front of the text” (Zorin Diaconescu, The challenge to the reader and the pact with poetry).

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Realize, by Ernest Roberson

If I could, I’d write for you a rainbow.
And splash it with all the colors of God.
And hang it in the window of your being.
So that each new God’s morning.
Your eyes would open first……
To hope and promise.
If I could, I’d wipe away your tears.
And hold you close forever in shalom.
But God never promised I could write a rainbow,
Never promised I could suffer for you,
Only promised I could love you,
That I do.

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My family doesn’t make photo albums anymore, by D’mani Thomas

My family doesn’t make photo albums anymore. Just dirty carpets, prayers and missing posters in every unsaved number. Just recipes of triumph in scar tissue, diabetes medicine splayed out next to a tower of peppermint candies. Like god is praying on the weakest of us with an alzheimered memory/ forgotten remorse/ what does not kill us makes us stronger, so thinning blood and darwin’s theory must be distant cousins.

Speaking of distance. I have not seen some people since the news coverage turned kardashian. Hurricane Katrina and my family are the same in that some government condoned a violence, and no one’s heard from them since. Tangent: believe all of this to be true. Last I heard, the boy that taught me to pop fireworks in the fragile of my palms, was living in a football stadium. Maybe? Maybe someone told me otherwise once .Maybe i’m choosing what to question mark. Maybe i’ll ask what happened to him when my grandmother wakes up.

I am a water baby. Salt water and some ligaments in the shape of bloat fish for stomach, minnow for rare organs, octopus tendrils for appendages i might scab and grow back. I know

What it means to swim in packs and try not to die. Survivor of two oceans trying to kill me. One atlantic /One I call a body . The killing joke

My kin is my kin, is your kin, heard that’s her kin too.

Fictiv in blood, but we can see it everywhere.

So when I found out Janis Joplin once said, “being black for a while, will make [you] a better white.”

I thought.

It’s just so easy to be Black these days ya know’

Rachel and Danielle paved the way for them. Like it’s in their DNA now:

Fake Bantu notted Oakland tongue double helixes. weaves into over priced top ramen diet.

If you are what you eat, then to consume a body means you too are NWA, section 80, hurricane katrinas red line, the subject of Old Kanye’s “George Bush doesn’t give a fuck about black ppl speech”

In front of me,

Some silhouette watches the slave trade happen

And somewhere, a white girl says she can’t be racist, says she’s only 17 , but 1/8th Ida. B.

Says – she loves the NFL and streetball and if she could she would let pornhub’s entire BBC category start a daycare in her stomach

I laugh

Tell her I think she has my great grandmother’s mouth in her teeth

I say,

My country loved me blue

My country took my dust soaked skeleton and put me in a thrift shop my probable children can’t afford.

My country loved me once and never texted me back.

Wild imagination, by Ezzy Callender-Braithwaite

My frontal lobe crafts a path to find an apposite residence ​
for the fields of lavender provoked my limbic system kindling fine motor skills to ​
zoom into high gear swerving over Mount Everest’s most southern hemisphere, ​
Plummeting at warp speeds to crash perhaps into the rapid waterfalls, ​
But there is a tributary in Egypt’s river that’s swelling to the overflow, ​
Triggering the cortex to hover in excitement, like frantic butterflies fluttering in ​
unison, ​
Distressing the frontal lobe, how it throbs faster than the heart’s rhythm, ​
An impulse one too much! Darkness creeps quickly, dwarfing the thinking quotient ​
shutting down the speed of light, ​
Reverse! ​

River, mountain, lavender, butterflies, field, ​
The stroke of beauty vanishes, taken away, compromised, gone! ​
But the shell still exists, the light is on, that means someone is home! Knock Knock! ​
Any one home? ​

Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth? ​
Can you follow my fingers from left to right, from right to left? ​
Smile for me, I see the droop on your face, ​
Let me show you an unframed picture, my daughter once wanted to visit this place. ​
I see by the sparkle in your eyes you recognize the lavender fields! Yes? ​
Take it easy now, be encouraged I will stay with you as you get back to where you ​
need to be, ​
We will need two special luggage, one for our clothes, the other for miscellaneous ​
tools and we are off! ​

Bring a blanket to keep you warm from the cold Himalayan nights ​
A waterproof suit for to keep dry when we near the waterfalls. ​
A measuring tape to record the length of Egypt’s river, ​
A net, to harvest the frenzied butterflies ​
Music to calm the palpitating heart and remember a dagger to cut loose this wild ​
imagination of yours.

Rise, by Larissa Xavier

Rise every day,

day after day,

once and for all.

Rise like the sun

from the dusk to dawn.

Rise like the ocean waves

moving up and down.

Rise like the trees,

which from seeds they arise.

Rise and shine.

And still,

like the air,

to the sky,

rise.

Rise from the ashes,

Rise from the horizon,

‘Cuz

Invariably you gotta rise.

Rise to the top

until there’s no other way

unless

to rise.

Rise and fall

all the time.

‘Cuz

at the end of the day,

we are all

risers,

early or late.

So rise up!

—
Larissa Xavier
http://www.larissaxlima.com

POETRY READING: A Giant Moment, by Jean Buschmann

Performed by Allison Kampf


POEM:

BORED in San Jose, our home in the South Bay, we ventured to The City that day.
– It wasn’t ordinary, no way!
Sunny and bright, not a cloud in sight.
– For the foggy City By The Bay, that’s rare for May, let alone April Fools’ Day!
But it was no joke, so we were seriously stoked at the thought of some fun in the sun.
The grand opening of PacBell Park was our mark – an exhibition game between the
Yankees and Giants. Otherwise known as “The Spankees,” to their defiants.
As a native New Yorker raised in Queens, it was The Mets for whom I placed all bets.
But as if to put our love to the test, my Nor-Cal man loved The Bronx Bombers best.
– And no, that’s not jest.
So that was the original aim of our quest, but before long we’d learn it might not be best.
– Since such seemed the goal of all the rest.
And so, with slightly deflated hearts, we parked by The Palace of Fine Arts.
– Far far away from where we’d hoped to spend that day.
We then began to stroll around, stopping at every fascinating sight we found.
– Talking and laughing along the way, we could hardly believe we’d walked to the Bay!
Not ’til we saw my blistered feet, were we finally ready to take a seat.
That’s when we noticed something funny – all the ATMs were out of money!
“Uh-oh” we said to one another, ‘cuz neither of us had stashed cash for the other.
Hungry, with nearly no money at all, there was not even a cab for us to call.
That’s when something inside me said, “It’s time to get up and keep moving ahead!”
To that, my hubby scratched his head, not at all sure how I’d endure.
But despite my feet, I wasn’t ready to admit defeat.
As we neared the revered new stadium, out of my mouth came a strange shout…
“When we turn the corner, we’ll get tickets to the game!” – To which my man jokingly retorted,
“Are you insane?”
Then to his shock, I locked eyes on a smiling stranger, who waved me over to his Range Rover.
“I’ve got two tickets, if you need ’em.” He said. “That’d be great…if you can wait.” And so, I explained
our twisted fate.
The stranger stepped right up to the plate. Without so much as a pause, as if completely compelled
by our cause.
When he jotted down his address, I knew that we’d been truly blessed. Then I noticed his wife was
stressed.
So I smiled reassuringly, as if to say – “The check will soon be on the way.”
…And that’s the true story of that April 1st day!

A poetic memory by

POETRY READING: Dear Mema, by Sienna Feruzi

Performed by Allison Kampf

I’m paralyzed,
You’re in the front of my eyes
And you won’t. go. away.,
You were my light,
You were the shadow in my shade,
The breeze on my hottest days,
The pink and gold of a sunrise haze,
You were the ground under my feet,
You were the smile folks loved to greet,
I feel you now when I see injustice,
I feel you when I see true love,
I know you are the voice of my happiness and patience;
You’ll always be my baptismal dove
And the one who encouraged me to stay confident and kind
Who taught me to never be left behind
For I am special, just how I am.
I’ll always have that Avery glam.
I’m paralyzed but I’m motivated
Because of you I’ve become elated
To have this life I have to live,
If only with you, for you I could give
Another walk along the bridge
Or through the park
Or at the store
I’ll always, always want some more.
But I’ll have the time, I’ll get the chance,
Once I meet you again.
I love you.

Poetry Reading: If Only, by Sienna Feruzi

Performed by Allison Kampf

POEM:

I yearn to lead you to a place unseen

A Wonder Land divine

Like a dream

Another experience

So serene.

No chaos, in or out,

No hooligans or “fooled again”s runnin’ about

No insecurities, grudges, aches or doubt

Just something new and never known

Something beyond the Mind: blown.

Something money can never buy

And somewhere for lovers, no matter how shy;

A place where lovers are always free:

I want to give you Eternity.

I want to give you the world and so much more,

But you don’t understand what’s in store.

For you don’t know how God loves you.

And you don’t know what my God can do.

My God will never judge or abandon,

But somehow, He’s misunderstood and taken for granted….

I only wish that you’d be willing

To see that my God’s so thrilling

I only wish He’d help open those eyes,

For I can only imagine how you’d be soooo surprised

God doesn’t just change– he heals and magnifies lives!

My God can remove the Darkness that is bothering you

And He wants to be Your God, too…

He can prove how much stronger and Greater is He,

If only,

If Only–

You could see.

This yearning’s my love,

But it stems from Him,

It’s all for you,

Nothing about it’s grim.

This yearning’s

Not about my love and me

If only,

If Only–

You would see.

Then you could have my jubilee.

This Wonder Land’s

Not just in another world,

It becomes real today in many, in adults, boys and girls.

It becomes real to all,

As long as they pray and answer His call.

He wants salvation not just for a select few-

Sadly not all accept it,

But I’m begging you.

I need to take you

To a place unseen…

A Wonder Land divine

Like a dream–

This burning urge is supernatural, I can’t explain–

I just want to ease up your pain

And so does God–

He always has…

He’s done it for me,

Life won’t be easy,

But overall, He’ll set you free:

If only,

If Only–

You would see!

POETRY READING from Poet Kitt Fedoroff

Performed by Allison Kampf

POEM:

Sally Gossamer Wingstep heard a most curious sound,
It came from beyond the wilderness copse, over, about, and around;
When Sally flew around the last tree a wonder she could see
A greying Fablehaven hound softly baying at a prone bumblebee.
Sally risked to go closer to inspect this quite usual sight—
Instantly she flew for Johnny H. Beekeeper in a quite frenzied flight.
Can he find the resolution for a bee brought down so low?
If he lacks the right solution, where then could she ever go?
Johnny was tending keen to the so new garden green—
Petite pois on the trellis, coifed and coiled like you’ve never seen,
Tomates on the vine, carrots long and tall, blueberries arching high;
And Johnny’s prized honeycombs, so grand as to make a master bumble bee sigh,
And cousin-once-removed baby Amber Grace with the prettiest wee fairy face
Was flutter-skurrying in and out of plants and was just all over the place!
“Johnny, O Johnny”, Sally cried to her family friend with sure pride
“Come quick with me to see this poor poor bee, laid low and curled to one side.”
Finding hard-working Katje to attend their baby Amber Grace
Sally and Johnny flew straight off to the far away wooded place.
With simple mind and quiet grace, John approached the curled up bee
But twas nothing more could be done, was plain and simple to see.
“Let’s take him home” offered John to Sally’s slow honoring tears,
Nodding, Sally looked for brambles to build a sled as for one’s peers.
A far off buzz grew nearer, the Wild Hive had come to find their brother;
A rippling peace reigned as Bumble Bee and Fairy regarded one another.
John and Sally backed away bowing as the Bumble Bees took up the reins;
The bees would long remember how those aloof fairies had taken such pains.
The old Fablehaven hound bayed again as the sled disappeared around the wooded copse;
Sally and John made their long slow way back to home and the fairy-grown crops.
Sally made her thank you’s and kissed wee Amber Grace;
Quite a wonder to see how Honor and Love forever bless this place.

Genre: Fantasy

Poetry Reading: The Long Road, by Shobana Gomes

Performed by Allison Kampf

POEM:

At first glance, it seemed easy,
I, the traveler on a weary road to perhaps fame,
I tamed my mind to think in ways one would want to impress,
But like a toddler taking baby steps,
I fall, struggling to get back on my feet.

The route I took seemed all too ready to steady that feet,
Through stumbling tears, I made my smiles just as effortless,
I cried first, then I laughed,
Isn’t laughter sometimes created from tears?

The road was long, the road was windy,
The road took me to eternity,
I wondered at some point if I would reach eternity, yes, eternity,
But stop I did not, I traveled through time, I traveled through eternity.

There were days when I thought “not a second to waste”
Until one day I realized that it took time to reach eternity,
It was the long road I had chosen,
Through much travail, none of which man can know or hear of.

I trudged with time on the long road to eternity once,
Right now, I face, I stare ahead,
I have not seen the end,
No, there is no end,
I have only been on the trail to the “beginning.”

THE END.