PoetsUnplugged.com: Recent Episodes
Sophia aka Bunny
www.Poetsunplugged.com is a podcast for poets, writers, and their fandom. We share poems book-info, spoken word, etc., Do YOU WANT TO SHARE YOUR WORK? !!! Pls narrate your poem or make a book or author- showcase. Listen for FREE and without commercials! In order to be featured in one of our episodes email Sophi at poetsunplugged@usa.com. You can support our free service by becoming a Poetsunplugged Patreon. Support your favorite poetry podcast with a monthly membership (1, 2, or 3 USD) https://www.patreon.com/join/poetsunplugged? Our episodes are also featured on our youtube channel.
BREAKING THE BARRIERS
The Creativity Webzine
Volume 7/ Issue 5
May 31st
The Creativity Webzine's 131st issue is devoted to everything concerning crossing borders, connecting between opposites, facing challenges, breaking borders, creating understanding, journeys into unknown territories, even near death experiences and reincarnation.
Send us any poem, article, story, haiku or any other form of writing. Take a photo of your art work, painting, sculpture or happening for our art section and get the chance of becoming Artist of the Month.
Send in your work by
May 29th
to
Charles E.J. Moulton
at
bestbigbopper69@hotmail.com
Best regards,
Charles E.J. Moulton
Editor in Chief
The Creativity Webzine
SONG Charles E.J. Moulton is singing MUSIC OF THE NIGHT from Phantom of the Opera.
BRAVOOOOOO!!!!!
Hello listeners of Poets Unplugged this is Celia Alvarez, editor of Prospectus, here to invite you to our Poetry-Month-Send-Off Open Mic on Friday, April 30 @ 7pm EDT. Tickets are available on Facebook or through Eventbrite and are only $15, which not only gets you a night of poetry but also a copy of Prospectus Issue 3. Come to read or listen. If you want to read, please register by emailing me at editor@hambysternpublishing.com. Please come join us and discover new talent!
A reading from Hell on the Border by Sidney Thompson
Author of Follow the Angels, Follow the Doves: https://www.nebraskapress.unl.edu/series/the-bass-reeves-trilogy/
You/Wee: Poems from a Father: https://prolificpress.com/bookstore/chapbook-series-c-14/youwee-poems-from-a-father-by-sidney-thompson-p-282.html
And Sideshow: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1579660681/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i4
The Creativity Webzine
April Issue: FAN FICTION
Greetings, dear Authors, Readers and Artists,
The Creativity Webzine's April issue theme is FAN FICTION. As such, we welcome any poem, article, story, painting, photo or artwork that is a variation on a theme, a spin-off, a continuation, a sequel or prequel, a back-story or a side-story to an existing franchise, story, character, movie, myth, legend, play or poem or historical event.
As always we welcome creativity. Cleopatra could fall in love with Han Solo. Socrates could discuss Buddhism with Yoda. Abraham Lincoln could travel back in time with Captain Kirk to find the missing link of our species. Edgar Allan Poe could be abducted by Harry Potter to find Voldemort in one of his stories. Or, indeed, you can do a straight spin-off. Mix truth and fiction. The only borders are in your mind.
Send your work to
bestbigbopper69@hotmail.com
by April 28th for the April 30th issue.
A new song by Mercury The Architects - Cheers To The View (Official Music Video)
on youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_diZ3lcIoIM&feature=youtu.be
Mercury & The Architects - Cheers To The View (Official Music Video) Click to stream song- https://song.link/i/1545070296 Music and Movie by Mercury & The Architects Performances by Mercury, LYNZI, and Rae Videography by Shannon Stutenroth ©MercuryRae Productions
Lyrics-
Hard to turn your back In the aftermath You think times got time for you Raise your broken glass Watch the world collapse From the moon Wasted in our rooms Cheers to the view It’s been a blast being hella cruel Light the matches sell the tombs Let the masses sweep the ashes Big congrats on the killer moves Did what you had to Natural order Led the animals to slaughter Stood so still they’ll build a Statue in your honor Coulda woulda shoulda oughta Share the water But you didn’t want to Could’ve flipped the script With a flick of a wrist But it is what it is And it’s only gets darker For a wicked author Harder in the heat Than it is Far from sobered up Close to the sun Part of me doesn’t believe your legit Posted up Only toasting to us Monsters we’ve become Hard to turn your back In the aftermath You think times got time for you Raise your broken glass Watch the world collapse From the moon Wasted in our rooms Cheers to the view Interference from the roof By the time you hear this We’ll be light-years from our roots Tryna find our spirits Cruising through the bottom of bottles But the only thing that’s here is fucking problems and fossils By the time you get this we’ll be out of time Watch the wreckage Let this message trickle down the spine Gave you the world and you possessed it Gagged and drowned the sky Smashed it thinking all the other planets wouldn’t mind You careless Tilted off the axis standing by Coulda woulda shoulda be an architect Not a narcissist Stop the vodka shots and the bomber jets Before you put us in the dark again Shoulda put the weight on your shoulder blades Coulda led the human race towards a golden age Not a sponsorship Stop the rocket ships Come to consciousness Learn to crawl before you stall Slip fall and conjure our apocalypse Hard to turn your back In the aftermath You think times got time for you Raise your broken glass Watch the world collapse From the moon Wasted in our rooms Cheers to the view
https://www.eventbrite.com/e/she-persists-rebounding-from-rejection-tickets-140231451045?aff=efbeventtix&fbclid=IwAR0_6i8hQ5oLaecB-E9BlthjEZxDcxynOf7wX2nlWePL-5VqdGN14pT2-sA
Metha-morphosis by Aldo Quagliotti Co-author of the mobile phone app Poetry Advent Calendar available at google play and apple app store.
Audiobook series "Advent Calendar "available at: https://www.kobo.com/ww/en/audiobook/advent-calendar-7.
My name is Aldo Quagliotti, and I'm an an italian poet based in London.
In 2019 I published my first collection of poems, Japanese Tosa, published by London Poetry Books. The anthology debuted on October 2019 at the Tea House Theatre in Vauxhall and has then been promoted throughout the London open mic nights such as Flo vortex, Paper Tiger, Poetical Word. This October I've published my second Poetry collection, Confessions Of A Pregnant Man (AlienBuddha Press).
My poems have also been published in italian anthologies, such as Il suono del silenzio 2008 and 2008, and Brazilian magazine (Revista Torquato). Nationally, my work has been included in English anthologies such as Reach 253, Murmurations, Cannon Poet Quarterly, Poetry In The Time Of Coronavirus, The voices Project, The Writers Club, Fleas on the dog, The Materialist , The Essential anthology, Word Doodles, Ponsersavant, The Raconteur Preview, The Orange Blush zine, Lion and Lilac, Unheard Poetry, Poetic Unity, and Literary Magazine. Recently, I have been selected as one the poets representing the Poetry Corner as part of the Kesington+ Chelsea Art Week in London (1-11 October).
link to her reading
https://www.eventbrite.com/e/multiverses-a-virtual-reading-and-signing-tickets-142192877725?aff=ebdssbeac
The Hudson River Blues - A Short Story Reading by Charles E.J. Moulton.
My story was written in 2017 and published 2020 by the online magazine Aaduna. My poetry version of the story was set to music by Melvin Edmondson and the song is also available for watching via YouTube, along with other of our songs. Henry never forgot Olivia. He even wrote her a song. He lost touch with her, but his heart still yearns for her love... The story is dedicated to New York City, to swing music and to sweet kisses and caresses in the moonlight...
my name is Aldo Quagliotti, and I'm an an italian poet based in London.
In 2019 I published my first collection of poems, Japanese Tosa, published by London Poetry Books. The anthology debuted on October 2019 at the Tea House Theatre in Vauxhall and has then been promoted throughout the London open mic nights such as Flo vortex, Paper Tiger, Poetical Word. This October I've published my second Poetry collection, Confessions Of A Pregnant Man (AlienBuddha Press).
My poems have also been published in italian anthologies, such as Il suono del silenzio2008 and 2008, and Brazilian magazine (Revista Torquato). Nationally, my work has been included in English anthologies such as Reach 253, Murmurations, Cannon Poet Quarterly, Poetry In The Time Of Coronavirus, The voices Project, The Writers Club, Fleas on the dog, The Materialist, The Essential anthology, Word Doodles, Ponsersavant, The Raconteur Preview, The Orange Blush zine, Lion and Lilac, Unheard Poetry, Poetic Unity, and Literary Magazine.Recently, I have been selected as one the poets representing the Poetry Corner as part of the Kesington+ Chelsea Art Week in London (1-11 October).
This February, 2021 Centennial Art Center Gallery presents Voices of the Past, A Celebration of Black History. In this exhibit artist Henry L. Jones speaks about his artwork. An accomplished poet, Henry also treats us to a powerful reading of his poem, "I Know Your Tears" from "Black Skillet Blues: Poetry without Cornbread."
Dear Readers and Authors,
The Creativity Webzine, the monthly multicreative and theme based journal, has been online now for six and a half years with our 128th issue coming up at the end of February. Authors, poets, writers, painters, photographers can this month submit poems, haikus, sonnets, articles, stories, art, photography of any kind in the theme FICTIONAL CHARACTERS. Any fictional character will do, if Superman, Indiana Jones, Hamlet, Harry Potter, whatever comes to your mind. They can be the main part of the story, article or poem, or just a side character. The fictional character can be an inspiration to the hero or just a part of the story. Main thing is that the fictional character is a part of the piece. The issue will be published on February 28th, so have your work in by February 26th.
Good luck and have fun creating.
https://moultoniancreativity.weebly.com/
Patricia Carragon has forthcoming work from EOAGH and The Paterson Review. Herlatest books from Poets Wear Prada are Meowku and The Cupcake Chronicles, and Innocencefrom Finishing Line Press. Her first novel, Angel Fire, is forthcoming from Alien Buddha Press. Patricia hosts Brownstone Poets and is the editor-in-chief of its annual anthology. She is an executive editor for Home Planet News Online.
https://brownstonepoets.blogspot.com/
https://patriciacarragon8.wordpress.com/
MEOWKU is available on Amazon:
https://amzn.to/2MTklrO
THE CUPCAKE CHRONICLES is available on Amazon:
http://amzn.to/2yAYc9o
Somjeeta Pandey is a poet, research scholar and an Assistant Professor of English at a government-aided college in West Bengal, India. Her research interests are rooted in crime fiction studies, feminist literary studies and dalit studies. Her poems have appeared in The CQ: A Literary Magazine, Global Poemic, Madness Muse Press, and will soon appear in Faces to the Sun: A Mental Health Awareness Anthology and Point Positive Publishing’s Rebloom Anthology. She can be reached at somjeeta072@gmail.com.
Patricia Carragon has forthcoming work from EOAGH and The Paterson Review. Herlatest books from Poets Wear Prada are Meowku and The Cupcake Chronicles, and Innocencefrom Finishing Line Press. Her first novel, Angel Fire, is forthcoming from Alien Buddha Press. Patricia hosts Brownstone Poets and is the editor-in-chief of its annual anthology. She is an executive editor for Home Planet News Online.
https://brownstonepoets.blogspot.com/
https://patriciacarragon8.wordpress.com/
MEOWKU is available on Amazon:
https://amzn.to/2MTklrO
THE CUPCAKE CHRONICLES is available on Amazon:
http://amzn.to/2yAYc9o
THE CUPCAKE CHRONICLES is available on Amazon I
BIO:
Patricia Carragon has forthcoming work from EOAGH and The Paterson Review. Herlatest books from Poets Wear Prada are Meowku and The Cupcake Chronicles, and Innocence from Finishing Line Press. Her first novel, Angel Fire, is forthcoming from Alien Buddha Press. Patricia hosts Brownstone Poets and is the editor-in-chief of its annual anthology. She is an executive editor for Home Planet News Online.
https://brownstonepoets.blogspot.com/
https://patriciacarragon8.wordpress.com/
MEOWKU is available on Amazon:
https://amzn.to/2MTklrO
THE CUPCAKE CHRONICLES is available on Amazon:
http://amzn.to/2yAYc9o
The Demise of Human Events by the famous Frogg Corpse. Thank you for having you as a guest.
BIO:
I'm a Zambian. My name's Chitendwe Chioza (she/her) but most people struggle pronouncing my full names, so I also go by Tende C.
I mostly write to declutter my mind . Most of my work is based by life experiences and shaping negative emotions into something beautiful so I don't dwell on pain as much. I started writing, or should I say journaling to combat personal issues with depression and anxiety. Along the way, I realized I'm actually a wonderful writer.
A book is in the works, somewhere soon.
IG: @hiddentruthsandguidinglights
BIO:
I'm a Zambian. My name's Chitendwe Chioza (she/her) but most people struggle pronouncing my full names, so I also go by Tende C.
I mostly write to declutter my mind . Most of my work is based by life experiences and shaping negative emotions into something beautiful so I don't dwell on pain as much. I started writing, or should I say journaling to combat personal issues with depression and anxiety. Along the way, I realized I'm actually a wonderful writer.
A book is in the works, somewhere soon.
IG: @hiddentruthsandguidinglights
Mercury & The Architects - AUTOPILOT (Official Music Video) Click to stream song- https://song.link/us/i/1541970406 Music and Movie by Mercury & The Architects Performances by Mercury, LYNZI, and Rae Videography by Cody Jay ©2020 MercuryRae Productions Inc. There ain’t enough light in the day To work 3 jobs But we’re finding a way To surf reruns Cmon time don’t give a fuck Cmon this life won’t live for us There’s no money in the bank To buy more rounds So pour another drink Until we fall down Cmon vibe don’t think too much Cmon this life won’t live for us We don’t ever walk through the motions We’re the only ones left still driving We ain’t gonna just lose this moment We ain’t ever on Autopilot We don’t believe in what get’s attention We ain’t gonna just run from sirens We’re the only one’s asking questions We ain’t ever on Autopilot We don’t have mad alarms Set for Monday We’re just fucking bad Making love staying up late We ain’t looking backwards Breaking through the matrix Shook until it shatters Naked in our spaceships Cageless Dancers Stepping through the darkness They could change the answers Me and you are constants Never out of options Sticking to the program What a bunch of nonsense Conscious living is the romance We don’t ever walk through the motions We’re the only ones left still driving We ain’t gonna just lose this moment We ain’t ever on Autopilot We don’t believe in what get’s attention We ain’t gonna just run from sirens We’re the only one’s asking questions We ain’t ever on Autopilot We put our souls on the pedal We take control of the carnage Up on a whole different level But we ain’t rolling robotic Doubt what we’re told never settle We keep it flowing hypnotic All that we know is so mental We let it go cuz we got it Popping in our starships Boxing out the margins I know you know it deep down That you’re rocking with an artist Cmon drive just stick to clutch Cmon this life won’t live for us We don’t ever walk through the motions We’re the only ones left still driving We ain’t gonna just lose this moment We ain’t ever on Autopilot We don’t believe in what get’s attention We ain’t gonna just run from sirens We’re the only one’s asking questions We ain’t ever on Autopilot
Dane Ince LS 8142
Certified Federal Surveyor 1099
President of San Francisco Surveying Company, inc.
201 Harrison Street Ste 828
San Francisco, Ca. 94105-2058
phone 415-321-9300
fax 415-543-1915
www.sanfranciscosurveyingcompany.com
Advent Calendar Starting on December 1st, count the days till Christmas-eve. by Sophia Behal, Dennis Moritz, Aldo Quagliotti, Carrie Magness Radna, Frogg Corpse, Sailor Uke Narrated by Sophia Behal series Advent Calendar #2 out of #24 Available as audiobook series at kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ww/en/ebook/advent-calendar-5
The mobile phone application POETRY ADVENT CALENDAR is available for download at the Apple app store or the Google play store. Enjoy it is for free.
Advent Calendar Starting on December 1st, count the days till Christmas-eve. by Sophia Behal, Dennis Moritz, Aldo Quagliotti, Carrie Magness Radna, Frogg Corpse, Sailor Uke Narrated by Sophia Behal series Advent Calendar #1 till #24
AVAILABLE AT the apple app store and google play store. Please download the POETRY ADVENT CALENDAR.
The ebook is available on amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Poetry-Marathon-Day-1-Pandemic-ebook/dp/B08LTMT3F2/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=a+Poetry+marathon&qid=1603992182&sr=8-2
The audio poems will be available at Kobo and NOOK, jus make a google search: Poetry Marathon and Kobo.
Each audio poem costs only 99 Cents
Launch for the charity book released for various cancer charities,
Words to Remember is the debut collection from Printed Words
featuring 43 various authors.
The launch for this featured book:
The following people read tonight:
Andy N
Amanda Steel
Dray Zera
Emma Lee
Sam Palmer
Anthony Smith
Linda Quinn
Ilaria Passeri
The book can be purchased from all the usual booksellers including Amazon at:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Words-Remember-Printed-Anthology/dp/1393548857/
Sidney Williams has written 12 published novels and a host of short stories. He is a creative writing teacher and former newspaper reporter. The pic is of Oliver, who's mentioned in the poem, sitting on my lap.
R.I.P. OLIVER from all of us.
Listen to this "Suicide Awareness and Prevention' poem on World Suicide Prevention Day #WSPD by Caroline Burrows
‘#Poetry Helps: Suicide Awareness and Prevention’
by Caroline Burrows @VerseCycle
for Glenside Hospital Museum, and Bristol Festival of Ideas
Suicide: the act; the ideation,
Even the word is often avoided,
To help prevent it, let’s start a conversation.
How should such a scary subject be worded?
Current advice recommends being direct,
So say the word ‘suicide’, be candid.
Other terms can be taken out of context.
Like ‘doing something silly’ or ‘having dark thoughts’,
Which might minimize or mock in their subtext.
One suicide survivor said she’d have been less distraught,
If she’d known of the types of help that can be sought,
That getting sectioned is only used as a last resort.
If worried about how to give someone support,
ZeroSuicideAlliance.com’s website,
Has courses online that are both helpful and short.
I watched three videos which gave me an insight,
How to approach family, colleagues, or strangers,
If I am worried and want to check they’re alright.
Other things we can learn from suicide survivors,
One told me after he shared his feelings with his partner,
That when he reached out, it brought in help from others.
Some non-verbal signs which act as indicators,
Changes in sleep, low mood, rapid weight shifts,
These might suggest suicidal behaviours.
Pay attention if someone starts taking risks,
Seems distracted, or socially withdrawn,
Things at odds with their normal characteristics.
Other things to look out for which might warn:
The giving away of prized possessions;
Anger; substance abuse; can be cause for concern.
Phrases might show suicidal ideation:
Someone might say they feel worthless, hopeless,
A burden, or alone, with no future option.
A survivor once thought putting others first was selfless,
But that meant she cared for herself less and less,
She said self-care’s not selfish; it’s needed for wellness.
Risk factors are: a sense of helplessness;
Dealing with bereavement; or unemployment;
An untreated, or an active mental-health illness;
Or chronic pain that doesn’t respond to treatment,
Such stresses might lead to someone not knowing how
To cope, or negatively affect their judgement.
These signs and symptoms show commonly how
Many factors affect someone’s mental well-being.
By talking we can help make someone ‘safe for now’.
Speak to the person, ask them how they’re feeling,
Say you’ve noticed them acting differently;
They don’t seem themselves; Can you help with anything?
If they are experiencing difficulties,
Listening shows you care, and can make a difference,
When someone feels isolated with their worries.
So you can provide the correct assistance,
Ask if someone is thinking about suicide,
To know where to go next for more guidance.
One survivor felt like part of his brain lied,
That his every negative thought got magnified,
This was his anxiety; it had catastrophised.
If someone’s having thoughts they’re trying to fight or hide,
And experiencing suicidal ideation,
There are organisations with whom they can confide.
There’s a helpline with the Samaritans,
Which can be phoned any day twenty-four seven,
Their service provides someone who listens.
Mind’s Infoline provides information,
During office hours about services,
....
Copyright © Caroline Burrows 2020. Twitter/IG/Facebook/YouTube: @VerseCycle
Its Not Easy Being Green A Year of Trying to be Environmentally Friendly Verses 51 to 60 by Caroline Burrows VerseCycle. Enjoy <3
Its Not Easy Being Green A Year of Trying to be Environmentally Friendly Verses 41 to 50 by Caroline Burrows VerseCycle. Enjoy <3
Its Not Easy Being Green A Year of Trying to be Environmentally Friendly Verses 31 to 40 by Caroline Burrows VerseCycle. Enjoy <3
We Want Everything: Book link: https://www.amazon.fr/Want-Everything-Moe-Seager-2016-04-11/dp/B01HC1HTIU/ref=sr_1_3?__mk_fr_FR=%C3%85M%C3%85%C5%BD%C3%95%C3%91&dchild=1&keywords=We%20Want%20Everything&qid=1596014064&sr=8-3&fbclid=IwAR1XdR_1EiARIr3DPmapvJMTqLrhkIzCOlM1bovKYGLm294MmWtyzdjoqS4
Its Not Easy Being Green A Year of Trying to be Environmentally Friendly Verses 21 to 30 by Caroline Burrows VerseCycle
Following on from his highly successful We Want Everything (2016), Paris-based Pittsburgh jazzman poet Moe Seager is back with a stunning collection of erotic poems. This edition is designed and illustrated in colour with sumptuous drawings by French artist Leïla Chaix.
I wanna make Jazz to you: Book link: https://www.amazon.fr/I-Wanna-Make-Jazz-You/dp/0995622515/ref=sr_1_3?__mk_fr_FR=%C3%85M%C3%85%C5%BD%C3%95%C3%91&dchild=1&keywords=Moe%20Seager&qid=1596014254&sr=8-3&fbclid=IwAR2fPugGM5xrs32b6QiXvNc3iiqhJf2R5DUXQ06qnjboFEZlsJgo8cQsZ_E
Its Not Easy Being Green A Year of Trying to be Environmentally Friendly Verses 11 to 20 by Caroline Burrows VerseCycle. Enjoy <3
Pathos
At the end of the life of each ancient Greek, they only asked one question:
“Did he have passion?”
Pathos, the word for passion,
is now roughly translated as sorrow.
Many wars and shifts in reasoning
may had dulled or shifted the seasoning
the first original Eros, separated from erotica, enthusiasm, even simmering
the odd ducks, who crave to sit
upon the great thinkers’ laps,
reading their words loud to a captive audience.
But accents are often changed to get ahead, books hidden,
family names Anglicized, works authored by those only known
by their initials; holy writings favored
over romances, family duties lie waiting.
People love the wrong ones; passion becomes sorrow.
My love is covered in gaffa tape of pathos,
shifting between one extreme to the other,
caught in mid-suspension, barely breathing.
My passion, I keep it hidden
when the sorrows come creeping, finally letting it out of its cage
in the tender moments before sleeping.
http://www.carriemagnessradna.com.
Hurricanes never apologize by Carrie Magness Radna
Link from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Hurricanes-Never-Apologize-Carrie-Magness/dp/1950380726/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2E49K8I16RJ3Y&dchild=1&keywords=hurricanes+never+apologize&qid=1593005187&s=books&sprefix=hurricanes+never%2Cstripbooks%2C145&sr=1-1
Link from Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hurricanes-never-apologize-carrie-magness-radna/1135406094?ean=9781950380725
Ladies and Gentlemen Please enjoy The Dean of Poetry, James Dean Rivera with his poem BE THANKFUL.
‘It’s Not Easy Being Green:
A Year of Trying to be Environmentally Friendly’
by Caroline Burrows @VerseCycle with Friends
Read by Caroline Burrows VerseCycle
I’ve switched to using loose-leaf tea,
‘Cos teabags sealed with glue leak micro-plastics in the sea.
But my lycra leggings are made from polystyrene,
And leach the same when in the washing machine.
I need to try harder; it’s not easy being green.
2: Read by Paul
Someone I know’s worried about Climate Breakdown,
Wants to see wildlife before it’s all gone,
So he’s flown on holiday to Kenya.
Then I see my coffee’s shipped here from there.
It’s not easy being green; There are no local coffee farmers.
3: Read by Caroline Burrows VerseCycle
Milky cans of worms stir in my coffee cup.
Three lattes a day over the course of a year,
Release enough CO2 into the atmosphere,
To fly me one-way halfway across Europe.
It’s not easy being green; I’m giving lattes up.
4: Read by Kate
A councillor representing the Green Party,
Tells me how hard it is to go car free.
But I’m still a hypocrite with only a bike,
The carbon-fibre forks carbon-footprint ‘ain't light.
It’s not easy being green; one day I’ll get it right.
5: Read by Caroline Burrows VerseCycle
The Lancaster Global Climate Strike’s near,
Approaching with chants, whistles and drums.
Leading from the frontline, school kids appear,
An army with signs held by dads and mums.
It’s not easy being green; but these kids have done their sums.
6: Read by Jonathon Humble https://northernjim.wordpress.com
Do I buy what I need which is one loose lemon,
Or the organic four pack not pesticide sprayed,
On a black plastic tray wrapped in cellophane?
I opt for the single fruit in this conundrum.
It’s not easy being green; Did I get it right or wrong?
7: Read by Caroline Burrows VerseCycle
I refuse a Climate Protest sticker,
Peeled from a roll of laminated paper.
Then my Turkish Delight wrapper makes me dismal,
Eastern promise heads for Lancaster landfill.
It’s not easy being green; this battle’s uphill.
8: Read by Chris Brown Twitter: @ChrisBrownYoga
My bovine milk comes in plastic udders,
But I’ve found a nearby Morecambe dairy,
Has glass bottles of free-range it delivers,
From field and farm into Lancaster city.
It’s not easy being green; but this was elementary.
9: Read by Caroline Burrows VerseCycle
My music heroes are promoting LPs,
An old way to buy the latest album,
While shunning space-saving MP3s,
Most vinyl’s part-made from petroleum.
It’s not easy being green is a digital anthem.
10: Read by Anonymous
I like a certain restaurant’s home-cook pizzas,
But they’re wrapped with polystyrene excess,
Next time I’ll buy a supermarket’s own brand,
They’ve used cardboard, a recycling redress.
It’s not easy being green; the pizza chain’s not hard to guess.
**‘A Year of Trying to be Environmentally Friendly:
It’s Not Easy Being Green:
A Manifesto in a Sonnet’**
by Caroline Burrows @VerseCycle
To be environmentally friendly,
Is what I propose to do for a year,
Documenting my endeavors daily,
In poetry that’s nowhere near Shakespeare.
Wilfred Owen said poetry must be truthful,
Truth is, just like you I’m a hypocrite,
So, I’ll write about when I’m successful,
And a weapon of mass-destruction dimwit.
Can just one person make any difference?
It’s worth trying to win rather than lose.
I’ll ride my bike to help go the distance,
Reduce, Recycle, Reuse, and Refuse.
I’ll publish my progress in being greener,
@VerseCycle on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCNfagvsYi3w_p-Un63KgS_A
Twitter: https://twitter.com/VerseCycle
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/versecycle
Facebook: VerseCycle
My Book title is WORDS RIPPED FROM A SOUL STILL BLEEDING: POEMS FOR THE FUTURE EDITION and is available at this amazon link for $11.99 U.S. as a paperback & $4.99 for Nook eBook at this link: https://www.amazon.com/Words-Ripped-Soul-Still-Bleeding/dp/1643456520/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=Billy+Lamont%2C+Words+Ripped+From+A+Soul+Still+Bleeding%3A+Poems+For+The+Future+Edition&qid=1593114039&sr=8-1
In passing (no. 45 of E verses)
Maybe none of us truly arrive—
even at the point of death
each sweet soul is still searching
for closure, peace & meaning.
Each one of us is the same person
one is born as: the kindnesses witnessed,
the failing felt, the sins committed,
the lessons repeated until mastery—
until passing into the Great Beyond,
into the rest of the grand Universe,
we fold with constellations of stars
until we become stars,
but our souls, our inner selves
remain the same forever,
no matter where we eventually end up.
http://www.carriemagnessradna.com.
Hurricanes never apologize by Carrie Magness Radna
Link from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Hurricanes-Never-Apologize-Carrie-Magness/dp/1950380726/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2E49K8I16RJ3Y&dchild=1&keywords=hurricanes+never+apologize&qid=1593005187&s=books&sprefix=hurricanes+never%2Cstripbooks%2C145&sr=1-1
Link from Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hurricanes-never-apologize-carrie-magness-radna/1135406094?ean=9781950380725
Book showcase
https://www.amazon.com/Disciples-Serpent-C-L-T-Sidney-Williams/dp/1946025348/
by Sidney Williams
http://sidisalive.com
@Sidney_Williams
Crossing the border
We are all trapped by the curve of our signatures.
Our histories are somewhat similar,
even though the names and locations we come from differ...
We are almost the same, but we are not the same.
We are carved in complementary shapes,
my skin on your skin, your skin on my skin,
even when reality blows forth an autumn chill, and we are nothing more than friends,
Summer dreaming is as heavy as whipped cream;
our pseudo-children are golden and green,
but you don’t feel the same,
you don’t share the same dream, I let the sleeping kids lie.
I lie to myself, making lions out of tabbies,
words are the only currency I can afford,
music is the only God I pray to.
Could I will you to cross the border towards my side?
The girls are waiting to lie down,
sinking with the sun on the green.
http://www.carriemagnessradna.com.
Hurricanes never apologize by Carrie Magness Radna
Link from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Hurricanes-Never-Apologize-Carrie-Magness/dp/1950380726/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2E49K8I16RJ3Y&dchild=1&keywords=hurricanes+never+apologize&qid=1593005187&s=books&sprefix=hurricanes+never%2Cstripbooks%2C145&sr=1-1
Link from Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hurricanes-never-apologize-carrie-magness-radna/1135406094?ean=9781950380725
About the book
I can’t recall where the idea of a ghost solving her own murder came from, but as I continued writing, I liked the concept of getting to see what happens after you die and how people may not react in the way you hoped they would. It helped me to develop the characters in a different way to any of the other books I’ve written. I learned that imperfect characters can be better to read about, rather than unrealistic characters who do everything right all the time.
The protagonist, Sarah has been slightly self-absorbed for most of her life, thinking her fiancé (Paul) is the love of her life. After she is murdered and becomes a ghost, she discovers that’s not true. The real Paul doesn’t match up to her imagined version of him. In fact, quite a few characters are hiding something, which adds to the intrigue of who the killer might be. Her behavior is young for her age in some ways, because she hasn’t had much life experience.
Amazon link:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07YNRH3FC
Universal book link:
https://books2read.com/u/38ZlPZ
https://books2read.com/u/https://books2read.com/u/38ZlPZ
Paris calling. SUNDAY 8:00 Paris time. 2:00 NYC. 1:00 Chicago. Noon Oakland California. Poets, Writers, Performance Artists. From the 4 corners of our planet. All languages spoken.
Penumbra and the Cellar Door
(In which my horses register the Kansas eclipse...)
Pretty word, Penumbra, deserving of a poem
and Cellar Door, two more together, a gift from
some English teacher many many years ago when
I was in third grade, she said the words and said
they were so lyrical and some words, when combined
had that magic beyond the meaning, it cut a pathway
in my mind, though it puzzled me for years until it
didn't and I understood some of what she meant.
The eclipse mooned Kansas yesterday and with the
cardboard eyewear I registered the slight scythe of
sun, the crescent slimmer than any moon on any
Arab flag, and then the word Penumbra flared around
the full black moon, and grass was individualized, no
longer just a pasture, but single stems dimensional.
My horses grazed around me, their grass-pull
squeaks the only sound, one gazed around when
darkness rose among the brome, and said the equine
equivalent of hmmm, went back to grazing. I may
have had a rapture of the dark where I quit breathing
for a moment, but it passed with the moon, and time
began for me again. Thin tattered veils of clouds slid
high and fast across the moonbit sun then it was whole
again and so was I. Penumbra Cellar Door I prayed.
Book-showcase AIRBORNE- DO YOU DREAM OF FLYING by Timothy Trimble
My website is http://www.timothytrimble.com
The best link for my books is the Amazon link: https://www.amazon.com/Timothy-Trimble/e/B001HCYXUS
Book-showcase DARK HOURS by Sidney Williams
Website: www.sidisalive.com
and info's also available on my Amazon author page. https://www.amazon.com/Sidney-Williams/e/B0044PSWOS?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_4&qid=1590937352&sr=8-4
SUNDAY MAY 31 / 20h-8 p.m. Paris time. ANGORA ¨POETS World Caffé. Poets, Writers, Singers, Flutist, hailing from Sri Lanka, Tibet, Algeria, Morocco, Egypt- Abu Dhabi, Paris, Berlin,Toronto, York U.K., NYC, New Jersey, Rockford Illinois. Pittsburgh.
My name is James Dean Rivera and I am an author and spoken word artist. I reside in Brooklyn, New York. I published a book two years ago called Words From The Heart. I live to inspire the world one moment at a time through my words of love inspiration and positivity.
Here are the words to Who Am I
Who am I?
What am I?
What can I become?
What can I possibly be?
What opportunities are out there?
Questions on what my life can be,
It's not who I am or what I can become,
I already know who I am.
I am a man,
A man is what I am,
I am a human being,
A person with meaning.
Who doesn't have to prove anything to anyone,
Especially when it's all said and done,
I don't have to prove my intelligence,
Nor do I have to prove my relevance.
I will always be outspoken and never bite my tongue,
I will not have fear and I will not run,
My ambition will always be there,
For challenges I will always be prepared.
I don't need to be a star for anyone to acknowledge me,
Approval is not what I seek,
I know what I can become and I know what I already am,
I am courageous, I am ambitious, I am powerful, I am a man.
Thank you so much for this wonderful opportunity and support
James Dean Rivera
Check out my YouTube channel
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCtLMaild3yQBAz77cySgzOQ
A poem "Embracing the Twilight Years by Juliana Renika-Breez
featured by Angora Poets World cafe
The first track is called Mercury and it is from the forthcoming album Re imagining the Solar System
by Ocean in a Bottle due for release on Off.
Off can be found at here:
https://stilll-off.bandcamp.com/
SUNDAY MAY 24. 20h-8 p.m. Paris time. ANGORA ¨POETS World Caffé. Poets, Writers, Singers, Flutist, hailing from Sri Lanka, Tibet, Algeria, Morocco, Egypt- Abu Dhabi, Paris, Berlin,Toronto, York U.K., NYC, New Jersey, Rockford Illinois. Pittsburgh. ALL INVITED to read their poetry. WOW! Angora Poets World Cafe is on!
BRAVOOO!!!Live Poetry from Andy N and Amanda Steel
BRA
VOOO!!! Live Poetry from Andy N and Amanda Steel
"Who Am I"
Crack of dawn
Essence of happiness
Golden throne
Bed of moss
Smell of roses
Silver bonds
Spirit of adventure
Intricate roads
Needle of a compass
Blooming in the garden
Vines with thorns
Words that umbrella pain
Inner fire igniting the world
Love that vanishes fear
Kiss of hope
Leather bound book
Filled with experiences
A beautiful mountain climbed
Compassionate words
Persona of sweetness
A lover and a fighter
A single tulip
Amidst a million roses
Unique with a mysterious look
A poetic cartographer
Feelings of sentiment
Living only in the moment
This I am!
BIO
Keisha Molby-Baez also known by her poet name Coco is a writer, author, veteran, curator, mother of three and a Bronx Coordinator. Keisha is the author of two self-empowering poetry books “Tears laced with Fire” and “A little bit of Sugar”. Her poem “Seeds Planted” is published and featured in MER VOX Quarterly. Keisha’s poems are anthologized in Inside the Panic Room, United: Volume Red, BX Writers and The Revolution, of which she is a Pushcart Prize nominee. Keisha is an incredible supporter and producer of her community. She has a lovely inner light and a raw-truth style that captivates her audience. She is the creator of Coco’s Delight and dedicated to her life path of turning pain into purpose. She enjoys performing, challenging herself and empowering others. Keisha is currently working on her third book and next project.
<3 Bun+E played this mix 2016 on a festival. A chill-out mix played in the early morning hours. <3
Song SRDCE (eng. heart) by Nada Q Ver and Bun+E
Nada Q ver and Bun+E are music producers from the Czech Republic. Both have been making music for over 2 decades and they both love to get together and produce/record great new songs. Enjoy <3
Arrival of Us
It was a summer's day.
I was hidden away
in the grave yet helplessly.
I was craving your sweet voice to stay.
Time changing night into day.
I wanted to fly away
in an eternal way, yet I am deadly sway.
I was awakening at night craving your blood your life.
Counting the night change into day.
I bit and took you away.
In your arms we both deeply in love clearly.
I was craving blood and you made me stay really.
The first time i saw a summer's day
I felt the sunlight take me away.
In your arms we both are decaying noiselessly.
I was the killer, one night followed by the day we would forever stay.
Ashes turning into dust by day.
I still feel the wind carry us away.
In your arms and now gone with you eternally.
As time heals both the beauty and the killer certainly.
Thoughts of a Vampire
written by Sophia Behal
WHO AM I???
I am Me!
I am bold, beautiful & black,
I was made for something more,
Black is a colour of strength,
Class and sophistication,
I am proud to be black,
For God never made a mistake,
He coloured the world with my creation,
The Black skin is not a badge
Of shame, but rather a glorious symbol
Of national Pride,
This black gives me so much joy,
My black is one thing that can
never be taken away,
Stand up and be proud of your skin!
By Sebenzile Ngwenya
Sebenzile was born and raised in South Africa, Soweto in the township called Meadowlands. Sebenzile is a self motivated individual who believes poetry is everywhere. Everyone has poetry in them, everyone has a story to tell. He writes poems to inspire and entertain.
Dear Ladies and Gentleman,
Please listen to the song BONGO I by BUN+E
Produced and Copyrighted 2016
Enjoy <3
The poem "The Surviver" is taken out of the book of poetry #WUHAN.
Its is available as ebook and paperback at bit.ly/wuhanpoetry.
And it is available as audiobook and FREE with the Kobo trial.
Just google: #WUHAN audiobook Kobo and find your free sample.
This Song has been released 2019 and is available on iTunes, Spotify, Radiopublic, etc.,
The song has been written and produced by Bun+E
CALL for SUBMISSION no fee
Nathan came up with this great idea...
We from poetsunplugged.com Podcast
are calling all artists and poets to
write a poem "WHO AM I ...."
and narrate it and submit the mp3 recording to
poetsunplugged@usa.com
WHO AM I by Nathan
Who am I?
I am a bird afraid to fly
I'm afraid to see the skies and the trees
Other birds and the bees
Because the closer I get to them
The more I lose him
And he is who I am
Who am I?
You want to know
So I tell you
Then you look at me differently
Although you feel same
Who am I?
Inquiring minds
Cause complicated shutdowns
They poke holes
In boxes held together by ever changing ideas
Of self and hope
Who am I?
To be or not to be
Questions held hostage by my imperfections
That repeat while I decide
Who I am
Who am I?
They want me to be John Doe
Because I am too far left
Too far right
But I am
Who I see in the mirror
Even when he does not see me back
He is who I am.
Who Am I Part 2: So I Scream It (So that it’s loud and clear)
And although I’ve made it clear
They still wonder who I am
But call me brother
Because of who I am
American
Still a strange
Illusion
Of confusion on
Who I am
Lingers in the air
And normally I don’t care
But
I’m tired of being numb to the pain
So I scream it
I scream it
So that it’s loud and clear
Who am I?
I am a magnitude of thoughts and ideas
A plethora of actions turned lessons
The full embodiment of hopes and dreams
A walking shell full of butterflies
And fears
I am the height of my conscience
And the breath that my choices breath
Who am I?
I am a fraction of what you see
A thought you couldn’t have had
Feelings you have yet to explore
An infestation of power you cannot ignore
Who am I?
I’ve said it before
And I’ll say it again
I am
Exactly who I am
When I look in the mirror
Even when he does not see me back
He is who I am
UNDEAD POETRY themed poetry SCI-FY special.
Thoughts of a Vampire.
I AM AWAKE
I am awake.
A sleeping city lays
beneath my feet
but, now, a stranger passes.
I am awake.
A tasty smell of fresh blood
beneath my nose
lingers and gives me a fresh energy dose.
I am awake.
His position close to me lies.
I follow him - time flies.
Closely to his steps my attention ties.
I am awake.
As I search
for a perfect place
for the attack at a corner in the dark.
I am awake.
When everyone sleeps.
No one would witness
when my fang his neck pinches.
I am awake.
Bloods circulate.
A moment to celebrate.
One left for the others sake.
I am!
And I am awake!
Read by Sean van Dutch
Written by Sophia Behal
Naomi Roberson
Literary Consultant: The Word Count
www.the-word-count.com
Telephone: (US) 518-227-1212
Nathan came up with this great idea...
We are calling all artists and poets to write a poem "who am I...."
and narrate it and submit the mp3 recording to
poetsunplugged@usa.com
IN DAYS NOW HERE
As the sun goes slowly blind
As day gives way to night
Does the earth bring forth works of the nocturnal kind
To light
As the sun goes slowly blind
Do the fears of days past pervade my mind
And I, finding myself more lost in my own eyes
For I have become habituated to blood and cries
In days bygone
We lived without fear of a stray bullet
From the end of a gun
Or from rampant attack by armed children of night with the insatiable gullet
Those who have shed the last shred of innocence
The last vestige of shyness and despoil without conscience
In days now gone, inhabitants of the north
Could practice the religion of colonialists of the west as in the south
Without apprehension
Of an abrupt visitation
Into the bosom of the messiah
Although being the desire of every believer
Messengers of death pluck in their prime
By crime
Those who are ripe for death and those who are not
In this web of bigotry are we caught
In days bygone
The sound of firecrackers did not set our minds affray
Back in the day
The sound of fireworks did not bear a striking similitude in sound to bombs
Mere sounds did not remind us of sobs
This air I breathe reeks of despondency and doom
For I cannot find safety even behind bolted doors of my own room
The next sound may be boom! Who knows who the next victim may be
It may be you, it may be me
How much I envy the bliss of the numb creature
For reality
Being too thorny for my noble nature
In this world is much cruelty
I wish I could wink and make it all go away
This cannot hold sway
For reality does not tango to the tune of tiny tots
Or even of noble thoughts
How long shall one continue in battle against reality?
We all lie as victims in the hard hands of insecurity
If life is a stage, it is time to play our part
For our dear nation is fast drifting apart
If we continue to steer this chaotic course
Even by faith there shall be no recourse
This nation shall be as catastrophic as titanic at sea
No more bloodshed, this is our plea
How much I mourn the loss of days bygone
In days now here, what lies the fate of the one
unborn?
by Yewande Adebowale
HOW LONG WILL THE SANE REMAIN?
It hunts sanity
like a crazed pride of desperately starved lions
on hunt for prey
launching veracious attack
on body, bone, biscuit bone and brain
at one fell swoop,
but this will to live is strong;
iron and stainless
On the lane of the sane
but for how long will the sane remain so and same?
It is as biting as a score of vengeful mosquitoes on an ill mannered host;
situate ever so close to green still water.
It burns, passionately,
like the unwelcome romance of the midday sun in the Sahara
leaving in its wake, desert without green or water
How long will the sane remain so and same?
When change is but old wives tales
by moonlight and we watch,
seemingly helplessly as this fragile fetus is forcefully flushed
away by a repugnant order which will not benefit
swiftly from new birth
The cycle is repeated
again and again -
conception and death
like an ever constant circumference
How long will the sane remain so and same?
when pedal-led propaganda
matter most
even more so, than an actual rebirth of hope
and how long will the sane remain so and same?
when the sacred sea source of all
is defiled for the sake of offspring’s of sect
the forsaken are as countless
as drops in seas
A land of green and a fair flowing river
makes the sane remain so and same
by Yewande Adebowale
Machine
Satanic mill of the seventh circle.
House of monsters. Thumbscrew mechanics.
Progress dragging its sack of laments.
This machine is devoid of function.
Old paint covers the blood and dents,
smoke and fumes in acrid conspiracy.
That sound you hear is its jibbering inventor,
his madness a device with jagged edges
and lights that cast no shadow,
making noises like the dead make dying.
A machine for breaking other machines.
Demon’s loom. Soul press. Black factory.
All humanity goes into it. Nothing comes out.
by Bruce McRae
BIO
Bruce McRae, a Canadian musician currently residing on Salt Spring Island BC, is a multiple Pushcart nominee with over 1,600 poems published internationally in magazines such as Poetry, Rattle and the North American Review. His books are ‘The So-Called Sonnets’ (Silenced Press); ‘An Unbecoming Fit Of Frenzy’; (Cawing Crow Press); ‘Like As If’ (Pski’s Porch); ‘Hearsay’ (The Poet’s Haven).
Color of hope
I looked over my shoulder one day
over a vast vivacious field filled with people just like me
on a day that the sun was dangerously high
and recklessly unforgiving;
sucking all moisture dry from body and brain
draining strength away from marrow and bone
I looked over my shoulder to behold
a flag on a pole
it stood high and proud
flown in full mast in green and white
beaten and broken too by excruciating heat
wearied but refusing to be buried alive
it stood so high and so proud
enviably;
flown in full mast in green and white
against sky-blue hue
The white seemed whiter with each permeating ray of the sun
the green grew greener as I stayed longer,
as I stared longer
perturbed like an indigo-imbroglio
It must be because of the yellow in the ultra-violet
or the mirage caused by overexposure to bright red heat
burning all moisture and sense off me
sheer craziness it must be, if I can
in this heat behold a rainbow out of green and white
again, I see the land that is green
for green is, life.
How is life buried?
As the drops of sweat fall across our faces
again and again
so also do these sun scorched tears expose every pain.
As I mustered the courage to continue again
on my way
the image imprinted on my mind till this day remains;
I see who we truly are
we are the green that will continue to grow aggressively,
for we are life.
We are the white that will continue to glow perpetually,
for we are light.
I see the green
I see the white,
and the rainbow.
by Yewande Adebowale
The Swan
Did you see the swan drifting
under the bridge next to Harvey’s Café, Sarah
just before sunrise
and Autumn tainted the skies
fluting and sighing
as the heaven began streaming
red caked with yellow strips
Did you hear the wind
silhouetting half of breath
over the fading light
before descending without a pause
as the swan slipped into the crack
pushed there by the soft current
baked in samurai shadows?
Did you see its wings suddenly flap
in a soft palatial rumble
splashing water like a shower like moon
briskly with an abstruse beauty
opening nature’s curtains for another day
with a crash instead of a half-asleep silence
witnessing autumn pull away from summer.
(After Mary Oliver)
Bio:
Andy N is the Author of four full length poetry collections, the most recent being 'the streets were all we could see'
and 'the birth of autumn'.
He hosts the Podcast 'Spoken Label', and co-runs further Podcast such as 'Reading in Bed', 'Comics Unity' and 'Koll, Andy N and Amanda'.
He also does ambient music under the name of Ocean in a Bottle.
Official website
http://www.onewriterandhispc.blogspot.co.uk/
Andy N
on Facebook (Official page)
https://www.facebook.com/andynstorytellerpoet/
Ocean in a Bottle (ambient music)
on Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/Ocean-in-a-bottle-802773986422467/
on band-camp
https://oceaninabottle.bandcamp.com/
Podcasts Series:
Spoken Label (Ongoing Podcast currently weekly or bi weekly
features chats and sessions with lots of writers, artists and musicians)
On Bandcamp, iTunes/Apple, Anchor, Spotify, GooglePodcasts,
Pocket casts, Youtube, RadioPublic, Castbox, Overcast, Castro, Breaker
Facebook group - https://www.facebook.com/groups/1640184132900821/
Reading in Bed (Monthly Podcast on Book Reviews with Amanda Steel -
usually a hour long or so) on the following networks - Bandcamp, Breaker,
Radiopublic, Anchor, Spotify, Youtube, Anchor, Castbox,
GooglePodcasts, Overcast, Castro
Facebook group -https://www.facebook.com/groups/readinginbed/
GIGO
belligerent origins of waste ablaze in bonfire
spewing eternal flames of flared gas from draconian chimney
rising to the heavens in soot and particles
provoking acidic rainfall, yes mother earth gives gigo with reckless abandon
plastic dumpling bubbles litter the seas in plethora
ocean cum dumpsite of non-biodegradable decommissioning
oil barrels disposed offshore drop after drop refusing to cease
aquatic life depleted by milestones and yardsticks
intense heat waves in their stride have come
voluminous floods fill the trenches breaking down floodgates
windbreaks now decertified
you receive what you give
the earth cries uncontrollably refusing to be comforted
the seas rage without fail displaying utmost displeasure
you receive what you give
garbage in, garbage out
By Yewande Adebowale
On The Other Side Of The Mirror
All of us are running backwards into yesterday.
A land of the left hand, perspective is cast free.
Time and death pose prettily.
Dust motes set off in a southerly direction.
On the other side of the mirror
is a door that must never be opened.
A door like quicksilver, like a breath
between the light and dark dimensions.
It’s after midnight there, always,
the mirror a windowpane demons peer through.
They see us in our downy beds
and are consumed with grievous envy.
Hello, Poets Unplugged. It’s me, the writer/sculptor Guinotte Wise with a second sculpture episode. It’s about one piece this time, a sculpture titled...Angel Tired of Avenging.
I made this for the main sculpture at a solo show at The Hilliard Gallery in Kansas City. We did a postcard, featuring this piece and it sold from that postcard. The folks who bought it never saw it at the gallery.
They have a dining room of glass and steel cantilevered out over a wooded area, and this angel stands at the end, facing the long table. Whoever sits at the head of the table has the angel looming behind them. Eight feet tall.
Protecting them. From bad dinner guests maybe.
Angel has two sets of hands. One set is involved with the chrome wings and holding her face shield which is a vintage diving suit porthole.
The other is flat against the angel’s flowing robes as if to signify “I’m done with all this avenging business.”
If you look closely, there’s an Uzi semiautomatic weapon partially visible in the angel’s cloak. It’s an expensive replica with a working action, so, just to be sure, I welded that shut. The barrel, too.
I take a lot of guns off the street and disable them. They make great sculpture parts. The meat cleaver at the bottom finishes the sweep of her skirt material and says “I ain’t kiddin’ around, people.”
Other parts include a brake tester as her WWF belt buckle. A bandolier of 50 caliber shells floats in her skirt. The wings are made of cut-up Volkswagen bumpers circa 1980.
Her backpack has two jets disguised as Buell Harley mufflers.
That’s it. If you ever have dinner at this guy’s house, don’t make a false move. The angel is armed.
Next episode is another angel titled Magister Patronum.
That means major protector more or less in Latin.
And that concludes this sculpture episode, unplugged poets. Contact Sophi if you’d like to come on board with some art.
‘Bye for now. Stay safe and socially distant.
I-U=Peace Squared
You abandoned me
Love don’t live here anymore
Devastation took its place
For this I could not brace
No remnants of us, not even a trace
It’s as if we never were
I just don’t understand Sir
You turned your back
Understanding was the lack
No explanation
Of your final destination
FKF were the words you relayed
All along I was getting played
Like a thief in the night
You became completely out of sight
For my kids and I you could care less
Our Family...Our Brand you made a mess
I would have never imagined I must confess
My downfall was your pre-meditation
Sadly this became my realization
Fighting back the tears
From all the invested years
I stood the test of time
Always putting forth my last dime
Chivalry was a stranger
My heart was in danger
No fairy-tale here
Yet happily ever after was and is my claim to fame
You and I
We are not the same
My soul you attempted to eliminate
But to God I began to gravitate
Adjusting to the new equation
I minus you equals peace squared
Peace will forever more be my addend and sum
Doesn’t take rocket science
You added pain
Multiplied sorrow
Subtracted the very essence of me
The me God intended for me to be
Every situation-ship
Relationship too comes with a lesson and at times a cost
It is the hope that you don’t find yourself lost
Not knowing the very core of your own individuality
The stakes are high
I cannot deny
Everything presented I now see was a lie
Sometimes I just thought I would die
This death had to occur
So that my rebirth and reprogram could occur
Enigmatic Mahogany Bio
Born in Birmingham, Alabama, as far back as she can remember Enigmatic Mahogany has been writing poetry to express her innermost emotions. She delivered her first oral presentation as a freshman at Tennessee State University where she studied Speech Communications Theater, Radio and Television. During her time at Tennessee State University she created an event entitled XpressionZ, in which she provided a platform for all artists to express themselves in various genres. Expressing herself would turn out to be the thing Mahogany does best. Whether expressing herself through her poetic pen, via music, or hosting radio broadcasts like Lady L In The Wet Zone for WTST Radio.
It was following obtaining her Bachelors Degree at Tennessee State University, that Mahogany began to fully pursue her innermost passion - poetry. XpressionZ, an online group established on Facebook, was re-birthed as a platform for artists to express themselves. After becoming more familiar with Facebook and the various venues provided for poets worldwide Mahogany began to incorporate online radio shows as part of tapping into her passion and honing in on her craft. It is during this time of exploring her abilities that various doors began to open. She found herself serving as Social Chapter President of the world recognized P.O.E.T. (People Of Extraordinary Talent) organization P.O.E.T. is one of the most elite entertainment groups in the mid-west for Spoken Word Poetry. Not only did she hold the position of Social Chapter President, but 2013 and 2014, Mahogany also worked with P.O.E.T.’s National Poetry Award Winning Radio Station as its station manager and host of the show “Inspirational XpressionZ”, which aired weekly over the web and mobile devices. The broadcast gave artists from near and far an opportunity to inspire others with their
Poem 35. 29.3.20
SILVER LINING
By H Biali
A sharp blow was dealt
our Civilization,
it is felt in every Nation,
Life as we know it
has come to a virtual Halt,
whether by evil machination
or natural mutation,
Mankind suffers losses
beyond any imagination
of just a few weeks ago!
However, the Human Spirit
rises to this occasion
of Lockdown, Scarcities,
Sickness and Isolation!
Kindness, Community Spirit,
Helpfulness and
new Appreciation
of simple things happen
in many different locations!
We pray, meditate and postulate
that Gaia, with Fauna, Flora,
Water and Air is with us onto
Healing and Regeneration!
Narrated by Sophia Behal
Hello, poets unplugged and anyone listening this is going to be something a little different...the first in what might be a series on Poets Unplugged, and an opportunity for other sculptors and artists.
I’m a poet, writer, sculptor—and this episode is about sculpture.
What I’m asking you to do is go to a website, and I’ll talk about each piece of ten sculptures for a few seconds
not long ten-twelve seconds each
l’ve got so much stuff on the site that it could take forever so I’ll just do the first ten pieces, okay?
the website address is wisesculpture.com
(spell wisesculpture)
while you’re looking up the site, I’ll just tell you a little about my work—it’s mostly welded steel. I use anything weldable and some material that’s not—like glass, rubber, wood.
And it usually happens in the process. The materials guide me. The steel tells me what to do.
A dallas art magazine called me a cross between John Chamberlain and Rube Goldberg. I like that. A lot of my work looks like it’s going to do something in the next few seconds—like you maybe should get out of the way.
you should be able to just google wisesculpture.com or you can put www in front of it, either way it’ll get there
now when you get to the site a popup will...pop up, and you can subscribe if you want to
the red car is my hot rod cruiser, 1949 ford with a 1988 mercury engine. A sculpture all in itself to us car guys.
it’s like the car I had in high school a very very long time ago
anyway, get that out of the way by either signing up, or clicking the X in the upper right hand corner
Then you’ll see the first piece of sculpture.
it’s non representational.
but it’s as good a use of space as anything I’ve ever done.
It’s part of a car, some chrome, part of a road sign.
Click anywhere to the right of it, or on that little sign that says next.
Number two is called Benelli because it uses a part of a Bennelli motorcycle.
It’s a wall hanging, stainless steel, about one foot by 18 inches.
next
Three is a rocket ship.
It’s about two feet tall.
It was to be in a solo show in Kansas City but a guy walked in, saw it in a corner where I’d unloaded it, bought it on the spot for his son who was a rocket scientist in Los Angeles.
Four
This is called Tyke’s Gatling. All of this stuff is welded steel, most of it.
This one is in a gallery in Santa Monica.
Five. Blue horse and blue wagon.
He’s uncomfortable on that wagon. And pissed at me for putting
him there.
Six. Inspired by Louise Nevelson. She’s a genius. Look her up.
I Call this one monochromatic. People don’t get it. I love this one.
Gallery goers don’t even look at it.
Maybe they think it’s part of the HVAC.
Seven
Balanced investments. This was a commission for an outfit called Frontier Wealth Management and it’s in their lobby. It’s about fifteen feet long. Can you find the airport landing light?
Eight
Hommage a Baron Samedi. He was the new Orleans voodoo guy.
About four feet tall. It has a couple of real pistols in it, what they called Saturday night specials, a necklace, an art deco lighter, an I.D. bracelet, a laudanum bottle, 30’s stuff.
Nine
Cutting Cane.
Made from a Tupelo tree from the Louisiana bayou, and a cane cutter.
And Ten
A wall hanging made from auto metals and a spotlight.
Hope you enjoyed the tour. Keep going—there are a lot more.
Any questions, comments, use the comment form on the site—I always answer.
Thanks for listening and watching.
Stay safe and well.
Andy N is the Author of four full length poetry collections, the most recent being 'the streets were all we could see'
and 'the birth of autumn'.
He hosts the Podcast 'Spoken Label', and co-runs further Podcast such as 'Reading in Bed', 'Comics Unity' and 'Koll, Andy N and Amanda'.
He also does ambient music under the name of Ocean in a Bottle.
Official website
http://www.onewriterandhispc.blogspot.co.uk/
Andy N
on Facebook (Official page)
https://www.facebook.com/andynstorytellerpoet/
Ocean in a Bottle (ambient music)
on Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/Ocean-in-a-bottle-802773986422467/
on bandcamp
https://oceaninabottle.bandcamp.com/
LUMNS Bio:
I LOVE MUSIC. I am married to Music and engaged to The Bassline;
I AM HERE TO MEET ALL OF YOU WHO MAKE DREAMS BECOME TRUE. Smile and Shine,,,
Music only a human mind can create. Digi Hill used to be my home,,, where we define and unite digital sounds all around the globe with the intent on creating timeless music.
Now I live in a Daisy. Kisses to all of You!
www.facebook.com/bunnybuttons
www.wix.com/bunevd/bune
www.dnblovefoundation.moonfruit.com
'To The Trees' a terza rima by Caroline Burrows @VerseCycle
‘To The Trees’
a Terza Rima
by Caroline Burrows @VerseCycle
Cycling home, the road levels out,
But rising anxiety sends
Me round bends, to where there’s less doubt,
To the trees I regard as friends,
Who line the off-road travelled less.
One branch to another extends,
Leaves whisper their soothing caress,
Their green sanctuary easing stress.
Poet's Bio:
Caroline Burrows @VerseCycle is a writer of poetry, prose: fiction and non-fiction. Her poetry has featured on the Bristol Festival of Ideas website, and she has been published in ‘Palm-Sized Press’, the Lancaster One Minute Monologue: 2019 collection, and Cycle UK magazine. She holds an MA in Creative Writing and regularly performs her work live. Her work can be found on YouTube/Twitter/IG: @VerseCycle
A Secret Garden
In a land said to exist.
In a town suggested by faith.
On a street where nobody lives –
is a house that may or may not be there.
And a garden of possibilities.
Where grows the fruit of imagination.
Where potential blossoms, rain a sweet water.
A garden tended with subtlety and care.
Where the bee prospers and sun lingers
and none shall starve for the want of beauty
By Bruce McRae
Andy N is the Author of four full length poetry collections, the most recent being 'the streets were all we could see'
and 'the birth of autumn'.
He hosts the Podcast 'Spoken Label', and co-runs further Podcast such as 'Reading in Bed', 'Comics Unity' and 'Koll, Andy N and Amanda'.
He also does ambient music under the name of Ocean in a Bottle.
Official website
http://www.onewriterandhispc.blogspot.co.uk/
Andy N
on Facebook (Official page)
https://www.facebook.com/andynstorytellerpoet/
Ocean in a Bottle (ambient music)
on Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/Ocean-in-a-bottle-802773986422467/
on bandcamp
https://oceaninabottle.bandcamp.com/
Sophia Behal wrote this instrumental song in 2018.
She is the producer of this unique peace of music.
So, evryone, turn it on enjoy and listen again and again.
We also aprecciate if you post our podcast into your social media stream.
Please make a post like this:
We are PoetsUnplugged Podcast https://anchor.fm/PoetsUnplugged also available on www.poetsunplugged.com
We offer FREE marketing for Authors, Books and Poets. Please contact me for further information at PoetsUnplugged@usa.com.
Thank you, Sophi
This poem 'Weapons Down' is written by Sophia Behal.
I, pointing at you soldier
with my daisy.
I will do it to ya.
I guess daily.
"Dear Sinister
how hard
is it to see, a
wonder
a flower?"
"Weapons down," I say,
Bloody hell,
Breaking the spell.
Prevent a catastrophe!
Soldier after soldier,
Soldiers; "one by one
don't point the gun.
no more pointer, Soldier!"
Meanwhile
at another grail
"I try to point
a weapon at you!
the joint -
a giant -
daisy grew!
Ha, again!
For you."
Yes, it's us solving the
guns' matter,
let a daisy
be the letter.
Yes, it's growing out the
gun's barrel better.
So, let the daisies
save the days.
Wherever,
stop never.
Don't let it be.
Let a daisy save lives, daily.
Enjoy the video-poem https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qI7Dw8Biqbs.
And if you liked this poem check out my collection of empowering Poems and Pros-a.
The book of poetry is called #Wuhan and can be downloaded at www.bit.ly/wuhanpoetry.
Thank you very much for listening.
Copyrighted 2020, all right reserved.
The rain drop
© Sukanya Basu Mallik As the rain drops on my head,
it cools my tensed up scalp,
and trickles down my head.
Descending upon my face,
touching my forehead,
eyelids, cheeks and chin,
dry.
Impoverished!
It waits there till it next falls on my bosom,
plum yet suckled.
It follows my stomach
and my womb that breeds life,
and flows through my legs up to my feet.
All thirsty and unfed.
The little drop tries
to cure my needy body’s ailments
But it can’t
owing to its small size,
And yet it tries!
It tries to feed the skin,
n which many fed,
it tries to quench the thirst-
seldom met,
until it too vanishes within the earth
alike thousands of such explorers!
About the author
Sukanya Basu Mallik is a multi-genre author, film and book critic. Her works have been published in various journals, magazines, and anthologies nationally and internationally including Reader’s Digest,Times Of India,Sahitya Akademi Bimonthly Journal, Lucidity Int.Poetry Journal, SEAL (South East Asian Literature) festival anthologies and AIPF Int. Anthology (Austin International Poetry
Festival). She has also received a number of awards; The Best Manuscript Awards for fiction & non-fiction categories (Mumbai Litofest, Literature Festival 2018)etc. Her short story ‘Healing of wounds’ has been awarded a certificate of merit by
National Children’s Literature Festival led by eminent author, Ruskin Bond. Her latest
releases include Mocktail and#Metoo. Her movie reviews have been published in various newspapers and journals of repute like 'Just film' magazine, Different truths,'Creation and Criticism'
ISSN: 2455-9687(A Quarterly International Peer-reviewed Refereed e-Journal Devoted to English Language and Literature) and many more. Her research paper 'Voicing of perspective through creativity – an in-depth analysis of Devika Das’s works'. has been published by 'The Expression: An International Multidisciplinary e-Journal', ISSN: 2395-4132 (Online)| A Peer-Reviewed Journal |
People of this world Let's pray. Together we are strong.
This is a poem about the coronavirus. This fact is surely not letting anyone's feelings untouched. People yes, we are worried but they already found something like a vaccine. A chines coupe was released from the hospital and lives as corona-survivers on this planet. The Poem is written by Sophia Behal. Please repost and share everywhere. Thank you. OneLove
Today we are showcasing Christopher Rosin who won two writing awards in high school and has a bachelor's degree in Communication from the University of Wisconsin-Parkside. He lives in Racine, Wisconsin, USA, with his family of four and two dogs. This is his first book: The Immortality Recipe is available on Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/ChristopherRosin. Listen for a short sneak peak out of his his new book.
UNDEAD POETRY themed poetry written by a vampire.
Read by Sean van Dutch
Written by S. Behal
This is a little sneak peak into my new children's book Smile Poem Feel. Take a free sneak peak to listen to excerpts of the book.
Please check into www.Souphistication.Tumblr.com for information on where to purchase the audiobook, the paperback and the ePub.
Thank you & Enjoy!
Please vote for this poem on this webpage:
located above the poem is a Star-rating. Please vote and rate the poem. Thank you.
https://spillwords.com/nyc-lights/
In Words:
NYC Lights written by: Sophia Behal
The World round?
Or flat as Ground?
Interlaced everywhere,
connected and bound.
I see you - a stare,
We, You & I, are
supposed to be,
physical energy.
I see you - a star,
We, You & I, are
infinite glare,
NYC I swear.
Connects everywhere,
my tear rolls around.
crystal clear
is my tear
what’s about
synergy found
Eternally -in the sound.
Enlightenment -we found.
We, You & I,
is who love I.
Copyrighted 2019
soon to be released in a mini album as part of a Book Release. The Book is going to be published by mid. February, and is the second Book, Book 2 out of a Series. the name is ¨My Poetry: Undead Poetry¨ and the poems are written by a Vampire. - no coffin cuddliers but old bats - so called supreme beings flight the night skies and feel so much more then we even could imagine ;) This second Book of The Series is a collection of Poems written and narrated by Sean Van Dutch a Vampire. He was turned without his own consent and writing poetry is the only thing making him feel like a human again.
Poets Unplugged is a podcast for poets, writers and their fans (readers/listeners) to share work of art. The Work presented shall include poetry, pros-a, plays, poems, songs and lyrics, hymns, psalms, stories, essays, and screenplays, for both modern and traditional genres. Violence, hate propaganda, porno, racist comments, views or propaganda are not allowed. Violators or bullies will be reported without exception immediately. Causes related to poetry, personal self-awareness or social consciousness are allowed.