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Daily Archives: March 7, 2016

A Martian makes his mark on Nottingham

 

A Green Martian came to Nottingham

To made his mark upon the land,

He landed in the castle court-yard

And was surrounded by Robins merry band,

They were all dressed in green

That made the Martian scream,

They laughed and pointed at the Martian

But the Martian said I come in peace,

So please take me to your leader

Then Robin came from around the corner

With tankard in his hand,

Robin told the Martian

I’ve just come from the Trip To Jerusalem,

You must have come to join my merry band

Which the Martian did not really understand.

 

By Thomas Sims

HABITS

                                                                                                         
                                                                                     
I find a penny

I pick it up
give it to my sister
So she has good luck.

I skip the cracks

No broken backs

I knock on wood
To keep it good.

I cross my fingers

So good luck lingers.
I laugh and play
To save the day.

By Brenda Braene

         

How do you know how it feels to be me?

Press Release
It seems my poem: How do you know how it feels to be me? has
struck a chord with the judges of Poetree  Creations; an up and coming UK poetry
website based in Nottingham England..apparently it has won their 2010 National
Poetry Award..the poem is dedicated to people everywhere who have suffered (on
the ‘inside’), whether it be due to illness; physical/mental or even emotional;
perhaps broken-hearted; hurt by someone they loved
or perhaps something really tragic that has happened in their life. Whatever the
reason this poem was written for them; in the hope that others around them,
especially their friends and family might show a little more love and
understanding.
NOW THE POEM 
How do you know how it feels to be me?There’s a lot more to me
than what you see.Have you felt the same hurts and pain?We’ve
lived different lives,we are not the same.I’m simply trying to rebuild a life worth having; in this hard world.

I’m surviving the trials
of everyday living.

Oh why can you not be more
forgiving?

Your careless hard words, if only you knew,

how
they cut me through and through;

even though I make no judgement on
you.

I wonder if you realise,

just how much you
offend,

with your cruel words; that you sometimes send.

I would
just love to be well, like you my friend;

I really hope that I’m on the
mend.

And that my painful journey is near its end.

by Simon Icke
Aston Clinton Buckinghamsire
UK.

Magical

wall

Love is like fairies

It is magical

Soft and angelic

Like sweeping snow,

I questioned myself  how do I know?

Then one day I discovered

True love it was like no other

Feeling ever, truly magical

Like a fairy waving a wand

Amongst the snowdrops,

With the birds singing a song

Through the woods

I followed them,

This is where I belonged

With my heart full of love

Singing in the soft breeze,

Watching the fairies dance between the trees

They would put a spell on me,

If true love feels like this

Then this is where I want to be

In a land that is magical to me

By Gillian Sims

A babies world

My heart melts as I look into your eyes,
Every day brings a special surprise,
6 months on and you’ve changed so much
Laughing and babbling and reaching to touch
Everything you hold goes straight to your lips,
Tasting, testing, “Can I eat this?”
Already rolling and sitting alone
Always exploring your own little home
You give kisses back with a cute little giggle,
You love to dance, bounce and wiggle,
You will soon be crawling and doing even more
So much left to learn and explore.
Abbe Cutforth

Hanging by threads – Promote Yourself

gymnast_beam2
Stumblings, falterings, graspings for heir
There go eye…
With a beam a gymnast
Could do a complete routine upon
Protruding from my own ‘I’
Tweezing splinters from others’ sight
That I am loathe to admit
As if looking down
From much vaunted heights
There’s an irony
Not overlooked
A hypocrisy…
A look on my face
I sometimes cannot see
Unless shown to me
Then the wait is imminent
The fill
The wash
The agitate
The rinse
A spinning drum
Wherein…
I tremble and shake
Removed into silence
As the rumble abates
Hung out to dry
For all to see…humbly
Through it all
Comes this gentle breeze
In the Son
In the Light
Pinned to a line
A warmth renews me
Folded neatly
Collapsing from self
And lovingly set aside
Till worn again
In time…
Colors fade
Threads thin
Wrinkles set in
The cycle
More wondrous
Than vicious

More thorn to bear
Than flower in bloom
More root
Than stem
More button down
Than crew
Or leaf
Or pleat
Or cuffs at hems
Just outer garments to be shed
And renew in due season
Painstakingly straining out impurities
Funneled from a Crown
Out of a head
And into a heart
The unseen
beautiful
Glorious
The scenes in surroundings
No longer
Leaving anything to be desired
___________________

“if people destroy something made by man they are called vandals. if they destroy something made by GOD they are called developers”
God Bless

My sea life

 I wish I was a mermaid under the sea
Imagine what kind of life that would be,
To be friends with the dolphins, crabs and fish
To live under the sea is my wish,
I would swim the ocean floor forever
Every day would be a new adventure,
A different life in the depths of the sea
With no one around but the fish and me,
A perfect life of peace and love
Just me and the sea and nothing above

Abbe Cutforth

Thank you for the flowers


Thank you for the flowers,

Their fragrance smelt so sweet,

Your kindness I will treasure,

Until once more we meet.

 

The sorrow you have shown,

The tears that you have shed,

No words need be spoken,

For in those tears all was said.

 

Try to understand,

That life will carry on,

My spirit has entered a better place,

Although my bodies gone.

 

My life must continue,

To achieve the very best,

But first I must compose myself,

And take a well earned rest.

 

Such a lot to do,

Of that I am sure,

For time does not stand still,

But carries on for ever more.

Malcolm G Bradshaw

Reactions


 
For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction
That’s what one of the Laws of Physics has to say
But it is not one we should take into consideration
When we think about the way we live our lives today
 
In our personal lives every action can invoke reaction
For other people usually react to the way we act
They are likely to adopt a similar disposition
Whether we like it or not it is a fact
 
The way we act towards other people is important
If we are a happy person we shall spread happiness everywhere we go
For the way we act is bound to cause a reaction
If we exude sadness it can spread to everyone we know
 
The way we react to other people is important
For if they are seeking to spread happiness
We should ensure that our reaction is one of pleasure
Otherwise we could be the one to cause distress
 
If we take a positive attitude to everything we do
We shall find this will encourage others to do the same
Their reaction will reflect the way we are
And we could all be winners in life’s game
By Ron Martin

Memories of years gone by

fish

My granddad used to say to me

They were the good time’s for your gran and me

There was fish and chips and batter bits

Wrapped in newspaper

A scrumpcious treat for me,

Then there was your gran’s scrubbing our doorstep

With her curlers in her hair

And granddad’s smoking Woodbine’s

And nattering to any one who cared,

There were kids playing

Marble’s, snobs, and hopscotch

Outside the old gun factory gate’s,

Look here comes the rag and bone man

coming down the street

giving out all of his  treats,

Balloons and gold-fish to every kid he could see

Some kid shouts the coalmans around the corner

Filling up the shoots,

And leaving coal scattered in the streets

Ho no the toilets were down the yard

As far has they could be,

 No -one could see

The newspaper on a nail

No toilet rolls in sight

To stand out at night,

Then there’s gran with her mangle

And washing on the line,

Cloth’s prop in the middle

Holding it up high

The wind is blowing grans washing

Until it nearly dry,

But granddad’s in the front room

Puffing on his fags

Thinking of the good time’s

And the memories of  the year’s that have passed

by Thomas Sims

Love is…

skip

Love is…

Dancing through the daffodils

Skipping with the lambs

Love is many things

Love is…

Finding that spring in your step

When your heart is leaping

Wherever you may tread

Love is…

Feeling that burning desire

Being with the one you love

To set your emotions on fire

Love is…

That unique feeling

That unique bond

Knowing you belong

Love is…

Picnics in the park

Being together

Underneath the stars

Love is…

Emotion you may discover

Happiness or sadness

Love is a roller-coaster

Love is an experience

To cherish like no other

Gillian Sims

The deep red rose

LOVE ME

The deep red rose for you I chose,
Drenched in scent
Reminded me of the days we spent
Nestle together amongst rows of heather
Forever I will remember Our innocence
Hiding from our parents
We were the only thing that mattered
You and I colliding with the world outside
Pretending we were perfect
Too nieve to know  what could happen to us
Forgetting about all the fuss,
Parents searching
The world For us
Never mind
We had  spoke,
nestled together,
Amongst rows of heather
Forever I will remember
Our innocence

By Gillian Sims

One Road – Promote Yourself

 _53508324__42306950_coastroad_203-1
On the coast
One main road
From somewhere
Up the East Bank Demerara
With a turn off to Timehri
(The Cheddi Jagan International Airport)
All the way to Georgetown.
After grid pattern capital
It picks up again
And three, may be four hours later
To Skeldon/Crabwood Creek.
And then it stops.
Just before Suriname.
And goes back again.
 
So Mahaica
(By passed)
(Market and stelling and car park
now some what retiring)
or Rosignal
which has a by pass too-
a floating pontoon bridge
-a toll bridge-
no longer at the whim of ferries,
weather and tide,
packed to the gills
tetris like,
buskers and hawkers
plying their wares,
by passed New Amsterdam
and Canje River,
huge high humped back bridge,
will the truck get over it,
Exciting places
That broke the journey,
By passed.
 
Cheryl Bhagwandin
Cheryl62blog.wordpress.com

A new York story


 
 
 
The city played Gershwin loud
 
Too much heat, extreme weather
 
Each avenue appeared to glue together
 
High summer bewildered the crowd
 
 
 
Eddie Silver sat, foot upon his knee
 
Business on hold; for lunch – pastrami,
 
Onions and relish, on rye
 
A reflective time for the private eye
 
 
 
In breezed the dame – buxom and jilted
 
Stood by the window to sensually smoulder
 
Eddie looked up from a trilby that tilted
 
Out to the mean streets, over her shoulder
 
 
 
Looking at her weeping, an unsteady broad
 
Beautiful brunette from the south-side of town
 
A letter thrown open, words tumbled down
 
Gershwin played on – in a far lower chord
 
 
 
Eddie stared through her dark damson eyes
 
To the reason she stood close to him
 
Softly speaking of hardship and lies
 
Trying to unburden the notion of sin
 
 
 
Eddie Silver: private investigator
 
Discretion totally guaranteed
 
Every diploma from murder to law
 
All cases taken – religion and creed
 
 
 
The sun beat down on Times Square
 
Yellow cabs swerved in tandem to
 
The beat of the people who share
 
The sound of a rhapsody in blue.
 
 
Stephen Holloway.
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