Our Brothers; Our Sisters ( Our Veteran’s Day )

–
While you were away
People continued to want
–
While you were away
People stressed over latte
–
While you were away
People blamed the one percent
–
While you were away
Wall Street didn’t miss a beat
–
While you were away
Families ignored one another
–
While you were away
Society forgot to mention
–
The risk involved
The loss endured
The humanity destroyed
–
We speak rarely of a certain reality
One the media voice won’t exploit
A truth that evades the common eye
–
While you were away
People do not understand
–
Haunted, windows might close
Shadows to follow your mind
Memory, nightmares designed
Tears remain your real lows
–
While you were away
Brother, sister, friend, foe
–
We were told about you
Searching the grain of your …
That sheltered your life in
Swathed cocoon like revues
–
While you were away
People wail their goodbyes
–
We soar with freedom, a Nation, a society
While eagle’s wings … restore our sanity!

Thom Amundsen
http://thinkingoutloudagain.wordpress.com

BACK TO THE BEGINNING

Soldiers bore the weight of the flag-draped coffin,
A sight seen too often;
Parents’ were grieving,
For a child not breathing,
As the sun slipped beneath the darkening sky,
And all that remained was, “Why?”

Troops surrounded by enemy fire,
As the fateful moments became more dire,
A weapon-wielding patriot discharged a round,
Only to merge with the dusty ground.

Proud to ride the wings of the brave,
Deplaning among an eager conclave,
Physically prepared with mental certitude,
The new fighter marched on with numbing fortitude.

A new recruit raises their hand to be heard,
Listening to the call to battle; still a child, a fledgling bird,
Watching the Union Jack or Star Spangled Banner,
Waving with the wind ‘til the flag fades to amber.

(In Honour of Remembrance/Veterans’ Day)

Wendy Shreve

REMEMBRANCE DAY TO DAY COME AND JOIN US AND SHOW THAT YOU STILL CARE!

Remembrance Sunday is held “to commemorate the contribution of British and Commonwealth military and civilian servicemen and women in the two World Wars and later conflicts

Bonfire Night

As we celebrate bonfire night
Let us remember when it all began
Guy Fawkes tried to blow up Parliament
The government of the day was not a fan

His attempt to destroy failed
For his treachery he was hung
Today we all celebrate bonfire night
With everyone having lots of fun

With fireworks and sparklers
Jumping jacks, bangers and mushy peas
The fire burning lightening up the sky
See the rockets flying over the trees

The smell of bonfire toffee
Fireworks displaying so bright
The fire well alight now
Lightning up the darkest night

Remember to be careful
For fireworks can burn and maim
Let your parents light them all
Keeping all away from hurt and pain

Malcolm G Bradshaw

Scary Mary’s Back

Gathering around the witches cauldron
The ugliest group ever seen
Mary uttering nasty vile spells
Then she let out a blood-curdling scream

The leader of the nasty coven
Was the witch named Scary Mary?
Her face was full of warts
With a moustache and beard all hairy

They danced around the cauldron
Throwing toads and spiders into the brew
Mary was supposed to be experienced
But alas she had not a clue

Her cat Boris was watching
With a smile across his face
To see the witches leaving
At a fast and furious pace

One thing they had forgotten
As they were flying around the floor
They were so high on the brew
They forgot to open the door

Boris by now was in pieces
As they all crashed together in a heap
He was rolling around laughing
As the witches struggled to their feet

Scary Mary was now quite vexed
As she tried to kick start her broom
Boris now was crossing his legs
And was quickly leaving the room

Scary Mary by now was quite dizzy
As she staggered she bumped her head
The last time Boris saw her
She was casting spells in her bed

Malcolm Bradshaw

The Visitor

A pumpkin knocked at my door
I was shocked, I fell to the floor
The pumpkin had a toothless grin
In the end I asked him to come in
The pumpkin shook my hand
And said I knew you’d understand
I wanted to come to your party
I was all alone
With witches and ghosts
They frightened me
It’s you I’d rather see
Someone warm and bright
On this Halloween night
So what have we got for tea
Trick or treat
It will be a whisky for me
Gillian and Thomas Sims

STOLEN HANDS – Promote Yourself

Sunday Evening…
All ready I’ve
Suffered enough
Of this
Incurable
Hopeless rage.
I sit
To try and write it out
My feelings flowing
From blood
To words
On this unforgiving page.

See I once
Held hands
That i
Stole
While i plotted lives
With a cold hearted
Grace.
Now my hands
Lie
Only to my
Own skin
The punishment
I deserve
There is no longer
Solace in a
Beautiful face.

I betrayed
My own
Beating innocence
It is now
A cold dead tomb
In which i am burdened
By its weight
With dark skies
And overdue consequences
Time has finally caught on
The price of lies
I’ve discovered
Is beauty
Returning
As hate.

Gabriel Denver

Hands – villanelle – Promote Yourself

 

Holding hands with someone special
Such electricity flowing between both
Creating memories that last much longer.

 

We hold hands with many as we grow
There comes a time when we have more
Holding hands with someone special.

 

Thoughts return to bring us even closer
Remember a touch or a smell that excites
Creating memories that last much longer.

 

Feelings grow and we just seem to know
When fingers lace together without thought
Holding hands with someone special.

 

For some it is might last only a day

Occasionally we find someone special
Creating memories that last much longer.

 

A lifetime can seem to be summed up
Looking back at all those moments shared
Holding hands with someone special
Creating memories that last much longer.

 

by Gray Poet

Charles Townsend

It is time

It is time to give

To the less fortunate than ourselves

It is time to pray

For all the hungry people in the world

It is time for peace

To unleash

All of the anger we hold within

It is time

To forget our needs

Let the poor breathe

Good  health

Let their faces sparkle

From wealth

It is time

When the world

Should be sowing a seed

To dismiss all the greed

To concentrate on peace

It is time to sow a seed of hope

To let all the bad things go

It is time to bring happiness

It is time I know

 Gillian Sims

“Autumn” – Promote Yourself

Autumn is like an old book:
Marred spines turn mean yellow,
staples rust red-orange.

Every stained page is stressed
by a splat of color. Rough-red,
like an old tavern,

we become hungry birds
and prepare for fall.
Shape and shadow are candied citron

as lanterns turn bitter yellow. Autumn
is a red fox, a goblet filled with dark wine,
a hot chilli pepper with smoky eyes.

Pressed leaves take in the colors
of seafood paella and saffron; these leaves
are like death, climaxing with a smile.

Autumn: Her dress is a net of mussels;
dark shelled, it covers up
summer’s weather-beaten body.

So pull out your boots
and stand on an aged, wood floor
like an evergreen.

Dear Gillian and Thomas Sims,

I was wondering if you would like to add the following short poem to your collection?

It was first published, Online (about.com), a few years ago.

Thank you,

Mary Hamrick
Tallahassee, Florida

Constant Pain – Promote Yourself

 

 

 

 

 

 

which is always there with me

There is absolutely no gain

In pretending what others want you to be

May be the pain will fizzle out

but I will miss its presence

Among all these self doubts

Constant pain is my life’s essence

Gaurab   Country : India

Blog : http://processingthelife.com/about/

About : I like travelling and photography. I’m an avid reader, I also write,mostly about my experiences and journeys. 🙂

Walking by Landmarks

 

~
I took a walk outside the other day
And realized the world has remained the same
The fields are changing as the
Clouds build their quiet momentum
But the stroll is a similar cadence
One can never be moving too soon
While in life missing steps
Would be
A bit nerve wracking
~
I took a walk outside the other day
Skies with their hue of golden blues
Will always brighten my day
Even as the wind’s ice take form
I seek a quiet comfort internally
Only to recognize again
The sudden calm’s change
Might be
A tad unrelenting
~
I took a walk outside the other day
And questioned what occurs
When my mind begins to sway
Off course into a never-land
Of energy no less endearing
Yet driven by our world’s demands.
Could be
A new awakening
~
I took a walk outside the other day
And when I listened to the sweet melody
Of simple pleasure in nature’s Grace
I could imagine a peace
A love of beauty and delight
Shed all aspects of the past
Only to relish a newer day again
Will we
Ever make allowances
~
I took a stroll while on a new avenue today
Noted the people’s intent to thrive in the gray
~
Thom Amundsen
http://thinkingoutloudagain.wordpress.com

LISTEN TO THE RAINBOW – Promote Yourself

 

    Red         

Hear the blood shed,

(Orange) Clementine

Unspoken words, blurred lines,

 

Yellow

Refusal to shout, to bellow,

Green

No words shared; between,

 

Blue

Inaction, injustice we rue,

Indigo

From despair, rises a human archipelago;

Violet

We must no longer be quiet.

Wendy Shreve

A Western Australian Piano Graveyard

The famer’s pressing oil, olives spread
on mashing mats. We talk of chooks
and foxes, irrigation and bush fires.

I’m here to see ruins in meadows,
on outcrops, brought from sheds
and yards, lashed to utes and trucks.

“All good things return to earth.”
She tells how a choral hum is raised
by strong wind, how possums nest in felt

and termites engineer collapse; how once
after rain, a derelict played like a pianola
as green tree frogs leapt in its heart.

I take her hand-drawn map, find
a Gold Rush era upright, laminate
blistered, keys jammed and gapped.

Despite its barroom look
a brass plaque by the keyboard
names an outback orphanage.

A Foley artist’s dream, felt-less hammers
conjure horror from bass notes, or tap
a level crossing where the hero speeds

to make the gate. Each instrument
decays uniquely; a baby grand is legless,
veneer turned peeled like cherry bark.

Under cracked coffin-gloss
a clutch of white eggs.

by Roy Marshall

Sea Fever – Your Favourite Poem

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking,

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

BY JOHN MASEFIELD

A PLACE WHERE LOVE BEGINS – Promote Yourself

Not in the past where your tempests raged;
Or in the future, when unknown forces could shatter dreams;
Not in your soul, skewered by hatred and resentment;
Only in the present, as an open heart awaits.

Not by running from what is given;
Or hiding in bitterness and acrid thoughts;
Not in your head, where too many goals are left unfulfilled;
Only in hope, not beyond your reach.

Not in innocence lost or violence found;
Or misguided battles, conflicts unresolved;
Not in your body, ravaged with time and pain;
Only in forgiveness of yourself.

Not in others’ perceptions of who you are;
Or finding reasons to run from promise;
Not in your losses, though hard to bear;
Only in taking her hand; reaching for the sun.

Wendy Shreve

Marry me that way – Promote Yourself

Come with me to my parents
Sit on an African stool
And stretch out your legs
Drink from a calabash
And refresh your soul
Marry me that way

Let the whole family see you
Let them ask you who you are
Tell them your intentions for me
Marry me that way

Set the drinks before my parents
Let them ask you why you are here
Let me watch your heart beat fast
Because you want to impress
Marry me that way

Watch as my family accepts your drinks
And welcome you to the family
Watch as they start calling you;
In-law, Son, uncle, brother and friend
Marry me that way

 By Sheila Chanase

I still miss you – promote Yourself

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are days,
When I miss you
With a sudden intensity
Which surprises me.

It aches, in a way I didn’t deem possible,
In a heart, I didn’t know I possessed.
And I lie in this room feigning sleep.
Pining away, struggling with my existence.
While I choke from these strange arms enveloping me.

Should I strive, in vain, for you, most divine?
Or should I instead, be miserably content with what’s mine?

– Sreshtha Sen
sreshthasen.wordpress.com