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Daily Archives: April 30, 2015

BANK HOLIDAY POEM -THE MIRACLE-MAN – Promote Yourself

flame

 
I took my children to the county fair,
To sample the delights of simple lives.
The sounds and smells of livestock filled the air,
And merry banter of husbands and wives.

Exhibits passed, munching apples we strolled,
Breathing in the burnt crisp October air,
Chanced upon a friend, who pointed and told
Of a miracle-man just over there.

A miracle-man! The children’s eyes glowed.
I confess that mine began to glisten.
As we approached him, our quickstep it slowed
And ears unfurled and began to listen.

“Come one, come all! Gather round, gather round!
Let me make you richer than you can dream.
Hush now, hush now! Folks, please don’t make a sound!
Allow me to tell you about my scheme.

“Something for nothing’s the name of our game,
We use the latest financial magic.
Just give me the spark and I’ll make the flame,
To miss out on this chance would be tragic.

“You lend us your livestock: cows, pigs and sheep.
We package them on to the street known as Wall.
They’ll earn tidy interest for you as you sleep,
And always remain within easy recall.

The farmers applauded as their eyes brightened.
“We get paid for our herds and we don’t have to feed ’em!”
Miracle-man smiled as my stomach tightened.
“You can always call back your swine when you need ’em!”

My friends and neighbours rushed to fetch their herds
And lead them to the miracle man’s camp.
Too busily straining to exchange a few words
As they pushed their cows and swine up the ramp.

The speaker left, his trucks bulging with meat,
Each hoof and mouth checked for impurity.
The farmers were holding a bright pink receipt,
Left by the miracle-man for security.

The winter rolled in and hoar-frost descended,
Each day farmers strode past empty stable,
Felt a regret at the herds they had lended,
The winter is long with no meat on the table.

At last, spring’s green shoots escaped winter’s cold clutch
‘Tis the time that the farmer loves the most.
This year, not least because of the crutch
Of good news from the miracle-man in the post.

When the envelope came, he snatched it with glee,
And called in his wife, two sons, and his daughter.
Then ripped it open, his jaw dropped to see
The miracle-man had sold his whole herd for the slaughter.

by Macro Man

For Baby Leo – forever one year old -Promote Yourself

rainbowbridge2

The Mirror – Promote Yourself

 
mirrorrrrrrrrr
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My mirror is dull and tarnished,

Cracked and warped beyond repair;

My reflection is so diminished –

Is that really me in there?

 

‘Use mine,’ says the Father,

‘It’s always shining, crystal clear.

See me smiling, over your shoulder?

See me wipe away that welling tear?’

 

Anyone can use that mirror,

Not one spoiled by a world that lies.

Embed that truth, make it a pillar,

And smile right back at His smiling eyes.

 

by Faith Unlocked

@FaithUnlocked

faithunlocked.wordpress.com

Travel – Promote Yourself


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Out of windows overused
into the rounded distance
where time does not stand still
but swarms in coexistence
of all things past and present
of youthful thoughts –
forgotten knots
that never really come or go
relentlessly they slide on waves,
the memory’s tetchy ebb and flow.
And as the grown-up mind
flies dreams at half mast
you gently push away the veils
to see them come undone
into explosive streams of rust.
 
Hey, I have just read about you on the blog and I really liked your idea, although it is probably a lot of work for you:) Hopefully, you enjoy it and get all the beauty you can from it.
 
I’m sending one of the poems I wrote recently just in case you might be interested:) There are some more on http://memorybazaar.wordpress.com, some in English and some in Romanian. The verses I’m sending now refer to the feelings that travelling triggers, namely that purgatory or world of the inbetween, where people are no longer their usual, ordinary selves, where they reunite with all their former selves into a form of energy rather than anything else. This is not a concrete, terrestrial phase, it does not have a clearly defined body or face, it is a luminous place of memories, experiences and dreams. It feels like a personal mythical time capsule that spreads energy into the being and gives some sort of substance and sense to an otherwise fickle existence. And since it makes it easier to understand with the help of a picture, 
Hope you’ll enjoy it and best of luck with your project!
Adina Pop-Coman

POPPY’S LAZY DAY

 

 

Poppy is having a lazy day

As she relaxes within a flower

First, she will freshen up

From the dewdrops she will shower

 

She will dust herself with pollen

All gathered from fairy rings

Then settle upon a buttercup

To stretch her gossamer wings

 

She will comb her golden hair

As it glistens in the morning sun

Then tip toe across a rippling stream

For Poppy a new day has begun

 

Malcolm Bradshaw
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