poetry – Page 33 – POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film.

She’s a man, Poetry by Bryan Chan

Unloving and unnurturing,

A woman without a woman’s touch,

Potential mother but then again, not very much

Limited by her ideals, faminism?

No, supremanism

Domination is all she seeks to clutch.

Genre: Love, Heartbreak, Rhyme, Relationship

She’s a man, by Bryan Chan

With trashy ideology and principles,

Her words are bland and hollow,

Mindless substance which have been borrowed.

Unloving and unnurturing,

A woman without a woman’s touch,

Potential mother but then again, not very much

Limited by her ideals, faminism?

No, supremanism

Domination is all she seeks to clutch.

The personality of a wall,

Cold and hard,

not very far from her standards,

white-washed and scrawny,

Crumbling and sickly,

Thinks herself high and mighty,

But in reality,

She is far from great,

The chinese have made far better gates.

She inspires love and passion,

But so do pies,

And cakes,

Not to mention chocolates,

But hers is a poison one cannot negate,

It is mistaken love,

Lest should I think it fate,

She leaves a rush of resentment,

An after taste of hate.

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No Question, Poetry by Saintswest

Are the stars in the sky?
Are the birds in the trees?
Is there green on the leaves?
Is the water still blue?
Why do fish swim upstream?
Why does everything
Seem to not mean a thing
When I am with you?

Genre: Love

No Question
by Saintswest

Will the sun rise today?
Will the air smell as sweet?
Can the days be longer?
Could this love be stronger?
Has the rain begun to fall?
Are there people here at all?
Why can’t I see a thing?
Why do I only see you?

Are the stars out tonight?
Is it cloudy?
Is it bright?
I am here with one tonight
And I’ve never been more right
And you love me like I do
And I love you like you do
How could I have ever wondered
Why these eyes see only you?

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Hustlin’ Fo’ Love by Jai FromDaWay

I stay nickel, dime and dubbin’
Caressin’, Kissin’ and Huggin’
A penny fo’ ya thoughts but what’s
the price fo’ ya lovin’?
To me you’re priceless and worth
all the strugglin’

Genre: Street Poetry

I stay nickel, dime and dubbin’
Caressin’, Kissin’ and Huggin’
A penny fo’ ya thoughts but what’s
the price fo’ ya lovin’?
To me you’re priceless and worth
all the strugglin’
Trying to flip like to love
I’m emotionally hustlin’
I got roses, long walks and romantic talk
all bundled up.
I’m slingin’ quality time fo’ cheap
I’m trying to double up.
I’m on the grind, O.T., and you be the re-up.
I’m pullin’ all-nighters.
Just hit me…I’ll be up.
If lovin’ you is a crime, then I’m taking the plea.
The charge is hustlin’ fo’ your love and I plead guilty!

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Mending Mother by Leslie Caplan

I looked deeper in
aching to abyss to understand
And I understoodtand
And I understood

Genre: Healing, Family, Relationship

Mending Mother by Leslie Caplan

I found a photograph at the bottom
of an unopened box
Crackling cardboard dried out from
being rained on
I reached in
Sifting through old letters,
scrawls of random thoughts,
poems that turned into
a thousand page book

I poured it out
onto the open floor
let the air in
let the stream of yellow light
spill in
and wrap around each keepsake

At the bottom,
under the fold and crease where the box
holds itself together
was a picture
At first I thought it was me
But it was you
as a young, budding woman
in a black and white capture
of your innocence
How hopeful your eyes gleaned
how deep the longing for what’s ahead

I held the photo in my hand
sat under the window and let the light
magnify your face
I saw myself
The face of the womb in which I grew
before I was even a thought
in your world
So long before an injection of insane
came in and corrupted your radiant youth
and the palpable wisdom
held in the cup your hand

So young and ivory skinned
Plump in cheeks and heart
And even though the picture was black and white
I saw the rosy tint of freshness
on your face
Your rich light almond eyes
I could see right through

You were lovely.

To the core of my holding
Soft before the world you inhaled
made you bitter to a pucker
Your hands mirrored mine
The shape of your brow
the shine of your lips long before
they dried out from all the salted cries you swallowed

You were beautiful.

I looked deeper in
aching to abyss to understand
And I understood
That somewhere along that paved line of your life
your heart caved
and shattered into too many pieces
to pick up and put back together
and you had to pretend
to be unbroken
pretend to love the man you married
and bore three daughters with
that you pretended you knew what to do with

And all you could do
was raise them inside
the shattered chamber you held together
for the sake of their survival
praying they’d thrive
in spite you

and I did.

I can speak for myself and say I did
And I took what was good in you
sane and whole in you
and I found my way
with what you did give me

life
courage
fire

and eyes so deep they blink
off the stillness of a photograph
and shed a tear so fertile
it grows life
mends and heals and breathes into
my whole life
within and without you
my life in honor
of you.

www.courageousheartinmotion.com

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From the Water, Poetry by Allison J. Call

Like many of you, I burrow seasonal trenches

Up and down and through,

Weaving my way through the ideology

That tomorrow’s winter will ever be colder than today’s.

I prefer a Sunday dance around a newspaper

And a misty cup beside my father’s silence,

Genre: Relationship, Family

From the Water by Allison J. Call

Like many of you, I burrow seasonal trenches

Up and down and through,

Weaving my way through the ideology

That tomorrow’s winter will ever be colder than today’s.

I prefer a Sunday dance around a newspaper

And a misty cup beside my father’s silence,

And I prefer the cold hands of a February morning

Tightening its delicate grip around

My most vulnerable.

I prefer all this, all this to what’s really.

My father counts one every year,

Because dawn is MY years old,

I control the seasons

And he couldn’t possibly die.

He is too wrong, too opposite of me.

Too set in his ways to let the ice grip him

As it grips me.

He’s too much my father to be a poet.

And he never told me that he was, and if he

NEVER told me he was, then

How can it be?

And outside, mint-mist fog ripples like a clock ticking

Wildly without a cog to push it

And without a hand to tell.

I come alone in the morning into the minty smoke

That has sky for veins.

I come alone on a Sunday

To count the drops of the lapping lake water

Or the warm, black metal tins along the edge of it.

In silence, war wears no coat and makes

No promises.

War’s tangled colors are the ticking fog, the water, the tins,

The newspaper dance, the warm coffee.

War is my father whom I cannot define

And of whom I come from without definition or border.

From the water I come virginal, frozen.

From the water I come a bastard, an orphan,

And alone.

I come from my father but I am not my father.

I am the water.

The morning light water.

* * * * *

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A Brief Encounter, Poetry by H. Alahmad

It was cloudy

And the thunder was rowdy

Suddenly an angel descended from heaven

And called me at eleven

Genre: Love, Rhyme, Romance

A Brief Encounter by H. Alahmad

It was cloudy

And the thunder was rowdy

Suddenly an angel descended from heaven

And called me at eleven

We met at a place of festivity

I felt I am outside the bounds of gravity

I wanted to fly

High in the sky

She said buy me a lollipop

And take me to a bookshop

If I liked books before

Today I adore them more than my Porsche four by four

Because they will testify that my encounter was real

Although it was surreal

My angel was gorgeous

Like a rose from Damascus

She has beautiful eyelashes

Those convert the heart into ashes

She was so white

And her teeth were so bright

Her voice was like music to my ears

But it brought to my eyes tears

When she said I have to go

It was like the end of the show

I wanted time to freeze

I kept saying please please please

But time had no mercy on me

And refused my plea

Time has a heart made of stone

And refused to give me a loan

All I wanted is one extra minute

But I was unfortunate

The books were crying

And words were dying

When she said bye

And ascended high

I wish I was shot

And buried on that spot

The books will be my coffin

And words will be my next of kin

It was a brief encounter

* * * * *

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Call me guilty – Poetry Reading by Stephanie Crosby, Performed by Kaleb Alexander

My passion in life is writing. Being able to get all of my emotions out on paper is great and to have people to relate is amazing.

Watch Poetry Reading of CALL ME GUILTY:

Get to know poet Stephanie Crosby:

1) How long have you been writing poetry?

For roughly 3 years.

2) Do you have a favorite poet?

Eargar Allen Poe

3) What influenced you to submit to WILDsound and have your poetry performed by a professional actor?

I wanted my work to be read and to be seen by the public.

4) Do you write other works? scripts? Short Stories? Etc..?

I am also a novelist. Which brings out my plug for my novel ‘The Last Virgin Alive’ which is available on Amazon at this press time. It is about a young girl’s girl struggle to keep her virginity.

5) What is your passion in life?

My passion in life is writing. Being able to get all of my emotions out on paper is great and to have people to relate is amazing.

—–

Poetry performed by Maya Wolosyzn

Produced/Directed by Matthew Toffolo

Editor/Shot by John Johnson

Submit your POEM to the Poetry Festival: http://www.festivalforpoetry.com

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Stranger In Love… – Poetry Reading by Poetess Chantelle Cherie, Performed by Kaleb Alexander

I would like people to respond to my poem or reading in Awed ; Earnest ; Flirty Anticipation ; A feeling of Relate.

Watch Stranger in Love… by Poetess Chantelle Cherie

Get to know Poetess Chantelle Cherie:

1) What is the theme of your poem?

The theme of my poem is Love and Attachment (Internal Rhyme)

2) How would you like people to respond when they read or watch your poetry reading?

I would like people to respond to my poem or reading in Awed ; Earnest ; Flirty Anticipation ; A feeling of Relate.

3) How long have you been writing poetry?

I have been writing poetry for 5 years

4) Do you have a favorite poet?

Hands down No questions asked

E.E. Cummings is my All time Favorite Poet. Brilliant he is!!! He bent the Grammar rules punctuation in poetry!!! Made it his wasn’t afraid to think outside the box.

5) What influenced you to submit to WILDsound and have your poetry performed by a professional actor?

I was Influenced by Poetry Festival in the reasoning of this brilliant and blessed opportunity they have given Me without any doubt without them I would still be sitting on my couch writing but now I get to leave my handprint on the world

6) Do you write other works? scripts? Short Stories? Etc..?

Yes I do write more then just poetry I write Short stories and Quotes.

7) What is your passion in life?

My passion in life is Writing Writing Writing And Helping the World the Broken the Drifters maybe miracles could still happen Maybe we can all learn to love passionately become our own poems. that is what makes life passionate Kindness Love Writing

Read Best of NEW Poetry from around the world

Read Top POETRY from new poets from around the world:

THE DAY BEFORE YOU CAME, by Martina Moriaty McCarthy

https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/02/08/the-day-before-you-came-poetry-by-martina-moriarty-mccarthy/

MY ESTRANGED WIFE, by Nnamdi Wabara

https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/02/08/my-estranged-wife-poetry-by-nnamdi-wabara/

UNCHARTERED, by Barrington Richard Green Jr.

https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/02/08/uncharted-poetry-by-barrington-richard-green-jr/

ICLOUD, by Torien Brooks

https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/02/08/icloud-poetry-by-torien-brooks/

HE AND SHE, by Chirayu

https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/02/08/he-and-she-poetry-by-chirayu/

WAITRESS SERVES A HYPOCRITE, by Christian S. Eskelund

https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/02/09/waitress-serves-a-hypocrite-poetry-by-christian-s-eskelund/

BEAUTIFUL THINGS, by Nublaccsoul:

https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/02/09/beautiful-things-poetry-by-nublaccsoul/

MAPIES, by Richard Rensberry:

https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/02/09/magpies-poetry-by-richard-rensberry/

CINDER, by Sheen Francis Reyes:

https://festivalforpoetry.com/2016/02/09/cinder-poetry-by-sheen-francis-reyes/

CinDER, Poetry by Sheen Francis Reyes

And then you implode
Your toes curl
You bury your face in the pillow
Whispering I miss you
And his name over and over

Genre: Love, Romantic, Relationship

CinDER by Sheen Francis Reyes

https://sheenfrancisreyes.wordpress.com/2015/09/22/cinder/

And then you implode
Your toes curl
You bury your face in the pillow
Whispering I miss you
And his name over and over
Until your voice whimper
Your eyes fill up with tears
For the painful void in your chest reminds you
He’s not with you
You and your own skin are alone
All you have are the images inside your head
And the cinder he left you with
Which every cell in your body craves to burn

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