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Monthly Archives: September 2013

Drums – Promote Yourself


I prayed for grey
that the sun would go away
i prayed for rain.
I prayed for cold, i prayed for snow
housebound, to be alone.

mean it or not, plea or prayer
i prayed for strength – i prayed for fresh air.
i lesson to teach: how to forgive
a lesson not learned – a lesson believed.

unanswered words, were given to me
the only truth – which it could give
answer beyond, does not exist…

(shouting) silent and blood on my tips
rips on my fingers, sheets torn to bitts.
(chaos) inside lies peace
but inside is the one place i cannot reach.

I prayed for a storm
i prayed for the sounds
electricity, fire, water, clouds

shut my eyes, so hear the drums
playing loud where used to be the sun.

Katerina Fondi.

Harvest Festival

Thank you Father for Nature,

For supplying the food we eat,

For the many wonderful fruits,

That is tasty and so sweet.


Thank you for the vegetables,

That helps the body to survive,

That nourishes our very being,

To keep us all alive.


Thank you for the conditions,

The wind, the rain and storm,

Thank you for the sunshine,

That ripens the fields of corn.


Bless all the harvest,

Those graces our table fare,

Abundance of glorious food,

A feast for all to share.

So as we celebrate Harvest Festival,

Let us think of those in need,

Send your thoughts out to the starving,

That all of them may feed.


Help us share your treasure,

To those that are starving today,

Give them strength and nourishment,

To soothe their pains away.


If through your love and understanding,

We conquer famine decay and despair,

Then Father we have learnt our lesson,

For through you we have learnt to share.


Malcolm G Bradshaw  

Toilet paper – Promote Yourself

toilet paper

A roll that owns its toll

So set is nothing left to regret

As you wipe a rearend with it and

It shows its time well spent

So accumulates in your hand

The layers of landing the white paper

Folded neatly to complete a duty

So rests the time with the tables

As you reason on a pot

Thinking of wiping that spot

That brought such disaster in the moment

What was once urgent doesn’t

Seem so dramatic

So is the erratic nature of a need.

Toilet paper: you cant live without it.


                                                                                      Aimee Antozak




Underground – Promote Yourself


Perhaps, now is not the time I want to be unearthed.
Perhaps, I enjoy being underground.
Perhaps, I like the thrill of mystery;
Not everyone needs to know all the details.
Some words are best left unspoken,
And I like to guard my tongue; it is a very loose thing
Needing restraint against all its aims to destroy me.
Perhaps, you think I am too harsh a master,
But I need to be smart and mete out the weights.
That come in bearing my image to the world; my real self, unbridled
But quick to see the false face that arises underneath the masquerade.
Perhaps, you don’t understand it yet, or know what it means to live
In the light of reality.
So, perhaps, someday, you will learn to light the world on fire
And know the song of joy.

Dr Seussa

I would like to thank you by Malcolm Bradshaw

Publish in the Nottingham Post Letters



I would like to thank all the poets who have sent in their work to The Nottingham Post. It saddens me to know that the talents you all possess are no longer being published daily. It appears that not enough poems are being received to enable the paper to publish during the week. I can’t believe with respect to The Nottingham Post that our poets are not sending in their poems. It would be interesting to inform The Nottingham Post of your views, after all the paper I am sure will take into consideration all the views on this subject. Poets of Nottinghamshire do not let the Letters page take over which was once shared by your talents, think of all the readers who buy the paper just to read your work, do not deprive those who look forward to seeing your work in all its glory.



A Journey Without Luggage 
She left us.
The trip had been planned for some time
Although no ticket was purchased.
We could not join her
Even though at times we wanted to.
We sobbed and said our goodbyes
At her point of departure,
Promising to join her someday.
Her body seemed so light
As it was carried away.
And all the heavy baggage
Was left with us.
I’m Christy, and I’m not so much trying to promote myself (I don’t write as often as I should) as to put this piece out there for others who are hurting like I am. Friday (9/13) around 11 pm my husband and I stroked our little cat Shelby as her fight with cancer came to an end. This poem was born of that pain.

Welcome friend


Open the door to the spirit world,

A loved one is on their way,

To join all those that loves them,

For them it is a special day.


For them the suffering has ended,

Released from all earthly pain,

To walk in the presence of God,

To live and smile again.


To cast away the earthly shell,

To set the spirit free,

For they will be dearly blessed,

In the spirit world, they will see.


Just another dimension,

Just another sphere,

Returning to their home,

To those they hold so dear.


Do not look on their death with sorrow,

But send them on their way,

With love and reassurance,

To the spirit world to stay.



Malcolm G Bradshaw

teehee – Promote Yourself


It’s lights out in 30 minutes
Living every tick somewhere
In your face and nowhere
In the pages
Of the play That Someone wrote
“for Joan” “for Guy”
And that is beautiful to me.
The string slipping perfectly
Through the blue eye.
I don’t care
For anyone else because
It’s lights out in 20 minutes
So this is my time
And I’ll be not in those tocks
But around your body –
A famous astronaut
(just a thought)
And I’ve drawn the curtain
And looking at the clock
It’s lights out in 15 minutes.
It’s cold here but I don’t mind
It’s warm there, so
I’ll get to the house
In the northern moor
Because through that door
Leaps heat.
And it’s lights out in 5 minutes
I’ve been living in a different clock
My brain’s in the wrong box.
I just had a thought –
I don’t need to write it down,
I am an astronaut.

John W Bradfield

I still miss you – Promote Yourself


Yes it true
I still miss you
One hundred days can erase your memory
But two words
Out of your lips
Will bring them all back

How can I ever know
If I am done loving you
If the only way for me to know
Is for you to address me, and me,
Not feel the squeeze in my lungs.

How can I ever know
If you will never talk to me again.

Maybe I see you around me
I seek to be near you
So that I try and test myself
Until the day, that your greetings
Will not be the meaning of my day

The dreams in my nights

The light in the rainy morning

The energy, which you took away from me.
The day you left me to my fate.
The day you unwillingly left me,
So that I could be better off…

I still miss you
I allow myself a few minutes a day to remember
I allow myself a few days a month to regret

And I move on,
Hoping I let out all I needed to.
But then a new day dawns and I fight the urge to love you

For you do not love me
Me, Im just a sad memory
Disappointment and anger
No love, because I never gave you the chance to fall

I was careful, to keep you away from my poison
Which now, has ascaped my arteries
Spread through my system
And is infecting me from the inside
Where I miss you
I miss you.

Katerina Fondi.

Hi, I am from Italy and live in greece, i am 21 and study Communications. i write all the time and i want to believe this is not one of my best but it is my most recent… i would love it if you could publish it and maybe i could send you others.

I’m dreaming. – Promote Yourself

I’m dreaming.
My head knows I am
Lying in my bed
My heart
It believes
I am once again
Living with you.
I thought he took you
From me
He burned you out of my mind
But not my soul
Here you remain.
I came to this place
To escape you.
The pain of breathing alone
They took it away
And I paid my price.
I do not understand
Why are you here
I feel you
Our life
Our plans
Your hope
The touch of your breath
On my skin
It’s so alive
How can that be?
You’re gone
This place is the fortress
That eases the pain.
The dream
It’s almost over
The pain
I can feel it
Building as quickly as
Your image fades.
It scolds
And overflows me
The heart and the brain
Look to each other for reason
At your presence here……………………….

Ask With Your Heart – Promote Yourself

ask heartxxxxxxxxxx
When the rain falls, to whom do you call?
And when you call, what is it that speaks?
For when it speaks, it does not sound sincere;
And the music it makes is awful to thy ears.

Speak what you need and not what you want;
When you wish upon a star, say not even a lie;
To be rewarded will be such a virtuous experience;
To be not will be such a painful chastisement.

I tell you, my brothers, to ask with your heart;
Whatever you ask, you shall then receive;
Be careful not to sin for you to be rewarded;
Be careful in drifting for someone might steal.

When woe comes, you shall listen to thy heart;
Yet if He does not live there, should you listen to it?
How would you realize if it is not so?
Ask with your heart, as what I just told!

Brothers, get rid of confusion and be still;
Acknowledge His power – His will shall be done!
Submit yourselves, be free from evil;
Do not do what you want but rather do what He wants.

For you are human, my brothers and sisters;
Your powers combined are not even half of His!
Speak with your heart, I said, not with your mouth;
As that is what that truly matters.

Address with your soul, my brothers and sisters;
What is so difficult in doing thus?
I will say it again, my brothers and sisters;
With your heart, please do humbly and solemnly ask.

What question should you ask if you were to call?
His love, my brothers, ask Him to stay in your heart.

Shevaun Lemieux

I Miss Her – Promote Yourself


A melancholic feeling draped the room.
Sad people in every direction.
Standing still, teary eyed, in mourning.
Tissues drowned in a flood of tears.
It was so depressing.
The room seemed colorless.
Everyone wore nothing but black.
Light refused to shine through stain glass windows.
Beckoning the reaper to bring her home.
The crow flew up above the building.
The wooden man hung on the cross began to cry.
Women’s black veils hid their sad expressions.
But, I knew the tears were there.
I knew how miserable they felt.
It was dispiriting.
The church choir sung dreary hymns.
Disheartened voices echoed through the room.
In my ears the music seemed like crying.
The slow songs made things worse.
I wanted it to end more than anything.
Dismal minutes became cheerless hours.
I wanted to go home. so badly
All the sadness overwhelmed me.
I didn’t know what to do.
I couldn’t even distract myself.
Happy thought were forbidden.
The room was filled with,
empty feelings and people pleading with god.
The sadness was infectious.
As people looked at the body,
I watched hearts break one by one.
The mother cried so much she couldn’t speak.
The father couldn’t bring himself to look.
I slowly felt myself becoming despondent.
I could fight the sad, empty feeling.
A tear rolled down my face.
I miss her.

Dyllan Brown- Bramble

Mirror, Mirror – Promote Yourself


Mirror, mirror

Castle wall

Fairest maiden

Loved by all

Mirror, mirror

Glass so cold

For ageless beauty

Her soul is sold

Mirror, mirror

Mind plays tricks


The river Styx

Mirror, mirror

Sharpened blade

Flashing silver

Gashes made

Mirror, mirror

Struck the deal

Ageless beauty

But life to steal

Mirror, mirror

Cut so deep

Crimson lifeblood

Soul to reap

Mirror, mirror

DEVIL deceiver

Curse the BEAST

This foolish believer

Mirror, mirror

Castle wall

Soul collector

Comes to call

Another entry for promote yourself. Feel free to see what’s new anytime at

Thanks again PC for this outlet.


It’s Friday 13th


It’s Friday but not as we know it

They say Black Friday is a day to fear

So lock your doors and windows

And lock in your luck

And watch out for Black cats

Black cats will hiss as they walk past

Is It a day of fear for you my dear

A ladder appears do I walk under Or do I past?

It’s Friday will I get bad luck or will my luck last?

Thank god It’s Saturday

I don’t know how but my good luck did last

But is it running out fast?

Thomas Sims

Our Greatest Fear – Promote Yourself

Hi there, my name is Natalie diSanto and I am 20 years old. I used to live in Philadelphia, PA but recently moved to Colorado! I wrote this poem about one of my best friends who ended up meaning a lot more to me than just any normal friend. It was hard to leave him, but we both had really long hair.

When we braided our hair together
And lost the difference as it tumbled like water

Our fingers a maze of river rocks
Our laughter like rapids

Fish swam across the tides

The morning after, we were shy and muddy
In our dehydrated skins

Then your tide pool eyes rippled
And we saw the fish had stayed with us

So we swam back through our hair

The night you kissed me
Tears turned our mouths to oceans

The day I left
Our woven hands, humid estuaries

Weeks before
Our toes sunk in a stagnant creek
Our hair pulled back from the algae

There were no fish around

You told me
You’re afraid of water

Message in a bottle – Promote Yourself


Trying to cleanse this mess from my mind
by condensing it into this pen’s lifeblood
and wiping away it’s tears along the lines
caressing the clean clear tree
leaving my stain to drip down
makin’ this mess worse
no lesson learned
just stress burnin’
a dress turnin’ in a circle
rising up
til it’s chirpin’ with the birds above the churches
but it will never get the best of me
I’ll be blessin’ thee
consistently taking a rest to see
that this test is cheap
so I’ll keep passin’
like it’s it my quest to keep
sober, makin’ certain my pests are weak
need to be sure of what I’m treasuring
never lettin’ the world express myself for me
I’ll be investing ink into pages that I read
when I’m pressin’ keys
throwin’ my message in a bottle at the sea
to see the world I’ll never be
comfortable with,
the tension starts in my shoulders
ends at the dots in your eyes
I nervously attempt to connect before the bomb goes on and on and on

Sam Quenton

I Am A Teacher


When I was a child and the autumn leaves began to turn
I would listen to my mother while we walked to school in pace
Her gait a proud posture evincing energy’s evolved sojourn
Me walking by her side, carrying my lumber (a trumpet in case)

I love this time of year
When summer’s time earns
A crisp bite in the air
Emanating familiar yearns
The cafeteria, reminds me
I am a teacher; hear me

We lived close by the grade school. I carved my identity here
She taught fourth graders how to be exceptional in life’s moment
Always hoping they might remember her ideals next year
When in fifth grade passed on, a new mentor might mete their talent

I recall loving my mother
A young student now alone
My world moves upon another
Journey towards an unknown
Sea of children with each other
Learning knowledge and tone

Later in life I would routinely ride a city bus across town
A book bag by my side continuing to hone my skills
Along the avenue my mother walked the same route alone
As I unaware stared quietly out the window on my own

Saw you riding the bus today
She smiled sowing sweet word
I didn’t see you said I in a shy way
Her eyes let me realize afterward
Expressed a contemplative sway
That moved my soft heart forward

I was many years past that early autumn morning walking
In hand with mother experiencing the start of a school year
When I came to terms with her assessment of my riding
On a city bus alone and contemplative with her eyes near

As a young boy walking
I am a teacher; hear me
Every day I am experiencing
A tease, a mystique, a discovery
When aroused by wondering
Her words and eyes direct me

Today, I have my classroom of children that greet me in a fuss
And every fall I recognize similar sounds and sights familiar
I know that she is watching over me as quiet, ride on my bus
Considering how I might pass on words so that children hear

Today I walk as a teacher
And you are my passion
I operate by a need here
To recognize your elation
Trust we might learn together
I am a teacher and this is my resolution

Thom Amundsen

What is Success? – Promote Yourself


I once dreamt of that golden word,
Which plagues my days and haunts my nights,
A lighthouse upon boulders of fame,
Whose peripheral sea is strewn with blights.

I once dreamt of sweet, sweet success,
Till I tasted a morsel of that which I craved,
My tongue screamed Pull Back! and to this day,
I don’t really know from what I’d been saved.

I once dreamt of the top of the world,
Deeds immortalized and soul long sold,
I could, perhaps, wave at the faces below,
But for an acrophobic that’s a story untold.

I once dreamt of that V-shaped mark,
I could jot besides “SUCCESS!”
But frankly, checklists are to life,
As Checkers is to Chess.

I once dreamt of gold and glory,
Until blind ambition taught me a lesson well learned,
When the day comes that success has no name,
Only then will it be a true victory earned. Thanks! 😉

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