RSS Feed

Daily Archives: March 10, 2014

Time Between Worlds – Promote Yourself

 descriptio...
 I like to pretend
I’m from your world
But really I am not…
I saw a different view
Of a similar history, from a different aspect,
I jumped back into your world –
A place not unlike my starting point,
Where Time is still time there,
Just as Time is time, is here.
Gravity is still the enemy,
The centrifugal force of all.
It hasn’t truly ended
Or really ever begun,
It’s always only but a memory
On an infinite, constant rerun.
From many different places
Views that are slightly askew,
It is as it is,
In every possible location,
And really, there’s nothing
That any of us can do.
There’s some differences in
The bugs here,
Blips of amusing programming,
But alas, I fear the same
Blue sky
And the Water
That reflects it
Still clings to where it’s supposed to.
The air is much better here
Because it is from both of our befores.
I’d like to say it will always be
But nothing truly ever is,
The weight you think you feel,
Pulling you downwards
Towards your earth Is relatively the same
Wherever you calculate yourself to be.
Some ordinary names of matter
Have slightly changed over time
But “a rose by any other name”,
Is still as beautiful here or there,
Although they will never smell
Like this again, in my time from before.
As the light darts back and forth,
Travelling from place-to-place,
Names are only names
When words and letters have been replaced,
Its meaning is, as its meaning is,
However, you choose to understand the matter.
But remember: A day is not a day
When the Light has gone away
. Just as night is not a night,
When Darkness goes astray.
Still I find it humorous
How you perceive such trivial matters of
Brightness or obscurity,
When I know this is only
Simple calculations of minor math and physics
Of any particle of this virtual nature.
Someday, you will go where I go and where I have been
Or will be too.
Meet me when you jump back
, From your different view.
But time always passes before
You can actually see it –
This perception is only yours
From whatever view
You saw askew…
So look me up (or look me back),
I will be as you will be,
In the past, present or the future,
As everything that ever was,
Are all things in relativity.
S.M Cadman

Our Journey Together – Promote Yourself

 

descriptio...

 

Twenty-one years!  Where have they flown?

As I sit here remembering just how much you’ve grown.

 

That perfect pink baby with the cute button nose,

So safe in my arms with your pearly-tipped toes.

 

So quiet at three with a mind of your own,

Dressed up as ‘Mary’ in your blue home-made gown.

 

Your little hand in mine on that first walk to school.

I was so proud, and you were so small!

 

Netball team, choir, Nativity and ‘Grease’,

Such a good student, so willing to please.

 

Time raced on and secondary school came.

Once we’d moved to MK you were never the same.

 

Out of your shell, blossoming fast,

Determined and driven, not one to be last.

 

GCSE’s, ‘A’ levels, great results all.

So many proud moments, I felt six feet tall.

 

Prom. day, so gorgeous in your dress bought by Jim.

“You look beautiful Chuck!” that would have been him.

 

Straight into employment with barely a pause,

There was just no holding you back anymore.

 

NVQ, driving, the list carries on.

Woodlands has bagged themselves a good’un.

 

So here we are at twenty-one years,

They’ve filled me with happiness, laughter and tears.

 

Such a wonderful journey we’ve had you and I.

When I look at you now you make my heart fly.

 

A blessing to many with the love that you show,

A warm heart so giving, a pleasure to know.

 

I don’t hold your hand in the street anymore,

But my love’s always with you, be very sure.

 

And always remember if ever you falter,

Our hearts are entwined as Mother and Daughter.

 

14th September, 2013

 

With all my love

 

Mum xx

….I wrote this to commemorate my daughter’s 21st birthday last year

  Here is a link to this  poem on my blog: ~

 http://sharonxx.wordpress.com/2013/09/14/special-day/

Cold Night – Promote Yourself

knight

She stood in the middle of the street,
Picturing the ruins of her life
Unable to move her feet;
Unable to see the way forward
Pushing down all her emotions
Delaying the inevitable,
And wondering about prohibited notions.
Grasping desperately to keep hold but slipping away…
In the cold she feels lost
The spark draining from her ambitious eyes
Being punished and paying the cost
Of the sins never committed
Now she stands alone, ready to fade away
Ready to be gone… without having her say
 Grace Linton

The Waiting – Promote Yourself

 

images (12)
 
Breath cut short with every turn,
The blade’s relentless slither true.
Scarlet ooze trails through the furrow,
Shades of grey lie in the wake.
 
Heart once blushing, warm in love’s glow,
Cowers trembling, dreading the end.
Light fading, flickering, dimming,
As the blade’s path becomes clear.
 
Pleas for mercy muted by reason,
Fall like silent snow, melting.
The blade’s edge gains momentum,
As love releases its flailing grip.
 
Heart once proud, bursting with lust,
Sighs in defeat and lies down to rest.
Resigned to breathless waiting,
For love to come home.
poetry by Phil Benton
 
Please visit my site:

Hope and Happiness

walkingxxxxx 

We walked along the sandy beach

Tbe sunset bright just out of reach

Ideas and dreams filled our heads

Our feet walking in rythem

To the words we said

Love came easy when the wind took hold

Whispering secrets never to be told

Our laughter danced through our hair

While we walked for miles without a care

When eventually we closed our eyes

We slept in pockets of surprise

As the new day dawned

The sunset crept upon us

And we made a truce

To live in hope and happiness

And agreed to settle for nothing less

Gillian Sims

Fun at Nine Months Old – Prommote Yourself

SAM_0232
Already you are 9 months old
I didn’t believe it when I was told,
“He’ll grow so quick, time will fly”
But the time really does fly by,
You’ve had your first visit to the park
We stayed and played until it got dark,
You sat on my knee as we slid down the slide,
I held you tight on the horsey ride
We’ve had our first trip to the beach,
Watching the donkeys that were out of reach
The weather wasn’t great but the wind made you smile,
Laughing and giggling all the while
We stood on the pier and looked out to sea,
Wait until you’re bigger and can paddle with glee
You will soon be crawling then walking away,
I’ll be chasing you every minute of every day
So until then I cuddle you close to my heart,
Then the invisible string will ensure we won’t be apart.

Abbe Cutforth

When The Tramp Met The King

chaplin

In the post this morning was a pamphlet sized envelope. I wondered what I had ordered and forgotten, and was pleasantly surprised to find inside an anthology from Middlesbrough based poetry press called  Ek  Zuban,   ( Ek Zuban means one voice in Urdu) entitled ‘When the Tramp Meets The King , poems from a competition to commemorate the 35th anniversary of the deaths of Charlie Chaplin and Elvis Presley.’

I remember the day Elvis died. I was sitting in my best friend Adrian’s kitchen while his mum made us pizza’s for lunch (home-made, I don’t think you could buy them ready-made from the local shop in 1977), and we were sipping drinks from the Sodastream when the announcement of Elvis’s death came on the radio. Adrian’s mum had to stop what she was doing and have a little cry; the King of Rock n Roll had died, a figure who had loomed large over her childhood and teens.

Back to 2013 and the anthology.  I opened the envelope and found the well produced booklet of poems selected from the competiton entrants and remembered how I had seen the competition advertised  last year and, being intrigued and inspired by the idea of Elvis meeting Chaplin, I had written the poem, posted it, and forgotten about it until now. There’s some lovely stuff in there, poems exploring the possibilities suggested by a relationship between these two legendary figures of the 20th Century.

Seeing my own poem again in the anthology, I can tell it was a first or second draft. But I like the poem and would like to share it  so I’ve posted another version here.

The King meets the Tramp

Just who is who Charlie? You, dressed as the victim
of his age, or me in my cape and lame’ finery?
Your dignity shone in every attempt to help the orphan kid
or whoop the big guy’s ass.

Yessir, you made me laugh! You were regal, stepping so easily
from screen to celebrity. And me Charlie? I’m a kid
from a shotgun-shack in Mississippi, the one who sold his soul
for a Cadillac and a swimming pool full of girls.

I ask you Charlie, does holding court to a bunch of good ‘ol boys
change a trucker to a king? But it’s not so sad Charlie;
even as the phony pharaoh of  Vegas I could still sing with the voice
God and America gave me, the one I kept despite everything.

By Roy Marshall

MY LITTLE VISITOR

Hello little robin
wearing your scarlet red vest
how dainty yet proud you are
seeking food for your nest

the feeders are flowing
fresh seed to the brim
so go call the others to come delve in

Now perched on the bird bath looking fully fed
surveying surroundings for your next daily bread
please  please visit again little bird for you
  bring comfort I feel safe
with thoughts of someone so loved and missed can’t come

      sends you to me in his place
               x

By Sandra Cameron

NOTTINGHAM POET

%d bloggers like this: