Open your Eyes By Malcolm Bradshaw

oO

OBSERVE AND LISTEN

 

 

I have watched and listened,

At what men say and do,

Of blunders made,

That has affected me and you.

 

The struggle for power,

The struggle for greed,

Stimulates mans ego,

On all of these they feed.

 

Minds full of material things,

To obtain the very best,

They walk all over the little man,

Who to them is just a pest?

 

Their are more things in life,

Than money possession and power,

The whole universe surrounds you,

To inspire you hour by hour.

 

There are many ways to success,

By helping those in need,

The satisfaction that they obtain,

By doing a good deed.

 

So to succeed in life,

The material life as well,

Combine the two together,

Let them merge and jell.

 

When you have achieved the balance,

Your out look on life will be,

A clearer understanding,

Of things you do and see.

 

Malcolm  Bradshaw  

An introduction – Promote Yourself

 

My name is Michelle 
I like stories and rhyme,
I’ve been writing a lot,
I started when i was nine.

I’ve self published my books,
Though my editing is poor,
I’m currently writing my tenth,
And editing another four.

My books about mystery,
Murder is violent and crude,
My characters are of habit,
Of drinking and being rude.

I write poetry too,
Of life, love and dreams,
A world of rhyme,
And nothing is what it seems.

 Michelle Mackenzie

Mvthorpeakamackenzie

IDEA – Promote Yourself

No embers crackle softly
under the over-bearing marble walls:
yet they gather around it
with their glasses raised
as if drawing heat
from the idea of fire.

An idea is so:
drawing life from itself.
And so is a poem.

-The Manoj Arora.

Please do provide link to my blog below the poem. Here it is.

http://themanojarorablog.wordpress.com

‘No Sense In Hesitance. – Promote Yourself

 

 

 

 

 I’ve meddled with your chemicals,

Met the Devil from Hell and he’s
Knocked me off my pedestal,
Unwell I fell into an empty shell,
No surprise I despise you,
Can’t you tell?
These flies swarm together,
Into about the size of a pack of lies,
I’m sick and I can’t pretend like I’m
On the mend if I can’t straighten out
These lines that continue to bend!
Give me a sign, make it clear,
I’m right here and I’m all ears!
The fear is you’ll only talk after
I crack open about two six packs of beers,
Maybe I’m the one that’s whack,
Maybe I’ll just crawl back,
It’s tack I lack,
And my sacks half empty,
Lost track, please don’t tempt me,
This pain we sustain just ain’t healthy,
Let us be at peace together,
Even if it’s not forever

 by Alex Hibbitts.

 

http://alexjameshibbitts.wordpress.com/

Awakened – Promote Yourself

 

 

 

When the birds fly

Too high in the sky

Someone’s soul must have been awakened.

 

All of the words

That have served as swords

Make the world look like the blue heaven

 

You cannot stay

If you will not pray

All the thoughts you thought you have written.

 

If not His love

Then, what one must have –

In order to keep things unshaken?

 

The emptiness

Will create a mess

Not known to man as for it is when

 

The mystery

Is yet to be free

As that is the way the word is meant.

By: Shevaun Lemieux

http://www.shevaunlemieux.wordpress.com

http://www.shevaunlemieux.tumblr.com

http://www.twitter.com/shevaunlemieux

The Starfish Story – Promote Yourself

 

 

 

 

 

Dawn comes about and I lay in the sands,
In the wake of a strong coastal storm.
The paper and pen I bring in my hands,
Lay dormant in sun not yet warm.
I see down the beach, some miles from me,
A young woman who moves in a dance,
I stand up and walk, from my pen I am free,
To this girl who had stolen my glance.
Not a dance, in fact; I observe her throwing,
Some starfish to the cool water’s reach.
Her task, like my worry, is gradually growing,
For thousands do lie on this beach.
I ask why she tries, she responds in kind,
“It is dawn and the tide is receding.
I cannot leave these starfish behind,
Or on them, the birds will be feeding.”
“But surely your efforts are futile!” I say,
“Of thousands, you can save only few.
You can’t make a difference, not in one day,
Even with ten girls to help you!”
She listened politely, then picked up one more,
And threw it, just as she had done.
She said, with a grit seen never before,
“Well, it made a difference to that one.”
So here now I stand, on this sunlit shore,
With a starfish in each of my hands,
My pen and my paper, I need them no more,
They lie, untouched, in the sands.
http://itmayormaynotrhyme.wordpress.com/2013/12/31/the-starfish-story/
Thank you for reading my poem, and if you think it is any good, please share it.
Ravi Jayanti

The girl on the black bike with white panniers – Promote Yourself

 

Amid the shell boom and thud of bullet,
biking to meet the morn, a student nurse,
Jaqueline Nöel, rode to the front alone.
What kept her going to the beach front hut
was a red two-piecer, a sister’s gift.
It was the last gift Marie-Denise gave,
dead in an air raid, to her twin sister.
Let past checkpoints for her Red Cross, whistling
squaddies tucked her into their war myth
of a girl on a black bike riding past
at the start of the Normandy landing,
refusing to believe the Germans would
let a civvy so close to the killing.
A nurse, a student nurse who lost a life,
her sister´s life, can’t win it back again,
but she could save the lives of others, lost
to tide and barbed wire, and that is what she did.
Recruited by the landing British troops
whose boats, boats, boats, and planes flown overhead
at Ouistreham beach so amazed her then.
She met her husband tending the wounded.
Jaqueline Thornton née Nöel rode her bike,
an old black thing with white panniers. On
past the bombed ruins of seaside hotels,
machine gun nests, and the sand dune dying,
she rode and found the costume in the hut,
where she had left it out the day before. Now,
it lies in her wardrobe, and she rides on.

Raoul Izzard

 

Biography

My Name is Raoul Izzard, I am a 37-year-old English teacher, dog owner, and plasticine animator living in Barcelona with my wonderful wife, Susana. I have been living here since 2007 when I moved from the UK to do teaching course. I love Spanish food, puppies and Ipad games. 

Beyond the Beauty – Promote Yourself

My Heart sinks in
The Glamour of her eyes
I fall deep within the abyss
Of her Voice

Her Smile softens
My harden walls
She races my heart
Anytime she looks my way

Always thought I won’t fall
So easily for the catch of
The feminine feelings but this
Blows the leaves fast off the trees

As we speak
I wonder the Poison that bleeds
My thinking to the woods
And making me want to sleep
In her arms

This tonic is full
Of wonders and utmost passion
For it brings the young man
Alive in my oldies

As I ponder heavily
On how my heart feels
With Thoughts rambling deep within
I struggle to catch my senses
Before I get to lose it
Under her whims

As this flow of thoughts rides
I meditate gently
True beauty lies deep within
Not on the skin nor either the Lips
And this road is what I tend
To travel
For this is what really makes a Woman

As my thoughts lingers away

I ask again

What lies beneath your Beauty???

Michael Ogundele

Hi! Writing from Lagos, Nigeria. Thanks a million for this platform. Would appreciate if you can paddle through the streams on my blog at twocatholicfriends.wordpress.com. Thanks
Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN

My Heart sinks in
The Glamour of her eyes
I fall deep within the abyss
Of her Voice

Her Smile softens
My harden walls
She races my heart
Anytime she looks my way

Always thought I won’t fall
So easily for the catch of
The feminine feelings but this
Blows the leaves fast off the trees

As we speak
I wonder the Poison that bleeds
My thinking to the woods
And making me want to sleep
In her arms

This tonic is full
Of wonders and utmost passion
For it brings the young man
Alive in my oldies

As I ponder heavily
On how my heart feels
With Thoughts rambling deep within
I struggle to catch my senses
Before I get to lose it
Under her whims

As this flow of thoughts rides
I meditate gently
True beauty lies deep within
Not on the skin nor either the Lips
And this road is what I tend
To travel
For this is what really makes a Woman

As my thoughts lingers away

I ask again

What lies beneath your Beauty???

Michael Ogundele

Hi! Writing from Lagos, Nigeria. Thanks a million for this platform. Would appreciate if you can paddle through the streams on my blog at twocatholicfriends.wordpress.com. Thanks
Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN

MAN OF FIRE – Promote Yourself

 

You entered the inferno with a shield,

A tradition of sacrifice; a heritage without yield.

And with every step you cautiously searched,

Giving mind to dangers when rafters lurched.

 

From cobalt blue to pale yellow, flames singed your bristled hair,

And poured sweaty showers on your salty, scarred skin;

A fog without air engulfed your head, though you did not care;

For a powerful magnet, a weakened victim, pulled you in.

 

A force too strong to run for flight,

Your courage lit the way when day for night;

Then with your exit from that fiery stage,

Your arms held a bundle, another life, another page.

 

The story continued with many deeds: resuscitating a woman who hardly breathed;

Climbing heights to carry a man on your shoulder your heaved,

Or grabbing a house-cat nestled in a corner that put up a fight;

You proudly wore that warrior’s uniform, grey with yellow stripes.

 

After thirty years, your daily battles finished;

Some memories have gone, others remain undiminished,

You have continued to strive to become a better man,

But to my heart you are one among many, the best in the land.

 

Dedicated to retired firefighters everywhere.

Wendy Shreve

Time to Stop Running – Promote Yourself

 

Time to stop running, take in what’s around you,
Breathe in my Spirit, fill your lungs with my breath,
Stop; close your eyes, feel my warmth in the sunlight,
Stop; clear your mind; stop, my child, stop.

Need to keep running Lord,
Too scared to stop.
Too scared to see You,
Too scared of Your call.
Too scared of what You want,
Too scared to listen;
Too scared of the hardship
Your way may mean.

Stop running scared – I have a better race for you;
Time to have courage – it is there within;
Time to be strong, stand up and be counted;
Too long have you run away; stop now, turn back.

I know it is hard my child – draw your strength from me,
Have faith in my promises, and yield to my plans.
Trust in my wisdom; trust – do not worry,
Through you – my miracle – I can make more.

Do not feel guilty, for my blood has freed you,
Cast off your chains and dismiss your doubts,
Cast off your fears and let go of regret;
Draw strength from old sadness; Grace lights a new path.

Learn from your failures – it’s never too late;
Hear me through others – I’ll bless you through friends;
Tune into My voice, it is always there guiding;
Stop; look and listen – give me all of your life.

Faith Unlocked

http://faithunlocked.wordpress.com/

For Dora Snow – Promote Yourself

 

 

 

 

 

Midst the chill and chide of Christmas,
Near a hill where few men go,
Nigh the knoll where souls are lain, crushed,
There I searched for Dora Snow.
On a path that seemed unending,
Crossing springs that always flow,
Beside birches bent in blessing,
There I searched for Dora Snow.
In a valley rarely mentioned,
Trailing brush as undertow,
Nearly slain by rise of tension,
There I searched for Dora Snow.
Where the songbirds seek their shelter,
Singing verse just she would know,
Set near the scene so loved by her,
There I searched for Dora Snow.
In the mountain of her mourning,
Seeking all the sun bestows,
Chipmunks chattering in warning,
There I searched for Dora Snow.
Where her beauty clothes the winter
With her words, sown row by row
To the side of tender timber,
There I searched for Dora Snow.
Where the sunset razed Forever
With a sigh and with such glow
To wane even wintry weather,
There I searched for Dora Snow.

Eric M. Vogt
Copyright 2013

http://ericmvogt.wordpress.com/

Words & Notes – Promote Yourself

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While you sat at your piano,
I sat beside my book.
You played the sweetest music,
I wrote down words for you.
We were the cutest duo.
Our heartbeats were in sync.
But my words, and your pretty notes,
were all gone in a blink.
I hear your off-key tuning.
My ink is now a blur.
Who ever thought, without your song,
I couldn’t write a word.
I need you as my guideline,
to keep my story’s flow,
but if your music must be gone,
I’ll wait for the next rhythm,
and of yours, I will let go.

 

I am an anonymous writer because I have not found the courage as yet to allow persons to read my poetry… I am really shy and I am trying to overcome it daily. I would like to be known as my initials (C.C.J.) until I am ready to reveal my true identity.
I am from the beautiful island of Saint Lucia… that’s in the sunny Caribbean!
You can find me at:
http://joliepoete.wordpress.com/
http://mspoeticsoul.tumblr.com/