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Missing Hope – Promote Yourself

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Somehow the sun

Sneaks in

Unnoticed, even shunned

By those not ready

For the flicker

Of a flame already snuffed

So many times

By paralyzed thoughts

Of reality known

And dreams departed

 

Somehow the sun

Slips gently

Making contact, though rejected

By hearts still twisted

With past and pain

Blocking rays, restricting light

As life gives moments

Short yet sweet

To collect and keep

Or resist and release

Arley S. 

mishunderstood.wordpress.com

Canada

LISTEN TO THE RAINBOW – Promote Yourself

 

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    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

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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

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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

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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

recognition

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

 

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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

Wrong – Promote Yourself

 

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Everything in this world is not color correspondent.
Like people.
Pink does not always mean female,
Blue does not always mean male.
Rainbows are not enslaved to queer folk.
This trinary only applies to things that are not complex enough for spectrums or intersectionalities.
Contrary to popular belief, gender is not pink or blue or vice versa.
Gender is a spectrum, mixed with complimentary colors.
Not a grey scale from light femininity to darkened masculinity.
New colors are made everyday by mixing, and extracting personal characteristics.
THE ARTIST IS THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN NAME THEIR COLOR.
Although too many people think they’ve discovered all of the colors, just because they’ve looked in their medicine cabinets.
Just because they’ve seen the outside world, they think they know the colors.

If I ever decided to have off-spring, their nursery will be painted in all custom colors:
To my queer child
Darling, do not allow your mind to dictate you.
Inside influences will tell you that you aren’t allow to exist.
Do not listen to them like I almost did.
Ignore the colors around you.
Instead of a gun, take a pen to your hand, and let your heart pour bullets to the page.
Write the synopia red-morbid things, write about the black olive world around you, write what goes through your minds.
Never conform to the point of dysphoria.
It only results in displaced self-loathing.
I feel that it’s only a matter of time before your Carolina-blue tears waterfall over your pillow.
Your rapids will sweep you away into a world of shades you’ve never seen before.
Don’t stop here, you will find your self stuck cycling somewhere that makes you feel like a stranger.
But just remember to find the colors that make you feel good.

______
Also, I have more poems at bucketsaurusrex.wordpress.com

ALL FACETS – Promote Yourself

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I’m trying to attach
Meaning to you like a door with no latch
Or me without you on my mind, how can I explain that

                                                                           I’ll

always love you no
matter your issues
I’ll hug & kiss you
comfort with soft tissues

What

Other words can I say or you to me
When you’re the epidemy
of where love should be
Cause there’s never any riddle to be solved
I know where my heart truly belongs

I

Smile out loud
How can that be…well you’ve shown me how
With all facets of your beauty that I want now
I write,you read as it all comes out
My pen turns us singular into a noun

One

picture & thought with no sound
With many years of internal feelings written down
just thinking about you on my sofa
typing away wishing that you were closer
written from my feelings for you in my mental folder
as i cater to your emotions till the night is over

Lino Robles

ART OF HUMAN NATURE – Promote Yourself

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Smooth surface;
Water-chiseled
Stone with curves of
Henry Moore,
In a stream.
 
Girl stricken,
Taking her legs
But not her heart;
Andrew Wyeth,
In the field.
 
Black & white figures;
Modern day
Rockwell;
Banksy.
On concrete canvases.

Chiseled names
In blackness;
Sunlight &shade
Reveal lives past;
Maya Lin,
On the grass.

Women of texture;
Ordinary scenes,
Superlative color;
Romare Bearden,
By a tree.
 
Mother, child; boat;
Strokes of light & shadow;
Mary Cassatt,
On the water.

Murals of
Bracing colors;
Struggles for dignity;
Diego Rivera
Beyond the breadth.

Palette stream
In cataclysmic ash;
Framing“Scream;”
Edvard Munch,
In the sky.

 Wendy Shreve

The Craft – Promote Yourself

 

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the poet’s craft-
to capture essence of a thing,
and cram it into sparing words.
even truer so, is the poet’s fate…
to burn with such intense, inescapable feeling,
that to put pen to paper is his only option.

baring this to all the world is the art.

-Nuella Onyilofor
nuellaswords.wordpress.com

 

FROZEN NIGHT – Promote Yourself

 

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Winter embraces the naked trees-
clinging, engulfing,
breathes down their limbs- fragile, splayed,
heavy with icicles,
dripping
upon the frozen grass-
darkened emerald
sprinkled with crimson dew
under this gray sky- half dead
gutted with bright holes
staring down
with its thousand eyes
upon my angular face:
torn- the lines lifeless.
No longer am I
who I’m supposed to be.

A filthy, caustic screen of time
a smog- blinding, suffocating,
separates me from you,
from us.
No longer the melting sun-
upon this world of constant night-
in warm splinters of broken sunlight
does shower promises of brightness,
of purification.

I tried turning my back
tried not to vomit these scarlet tears
but amid whiter ghosts
staring down from ashen heavens,
my white flag disappeared-
crumpled beneath their feet-
and I lost.

I lost
to the monster I created,
to the monster I became;
the fire that once burned in my heart,
fueling me, pushing me,
now devours me, slowly,
chilling,
as I lie suspended over this chasm
floating midair
along the parallel axes of time and life
somewhere between now and then
between myself and my monster
between alive and otherwise…

-The Manoj Arora.

****

http://themanojarorablog.wordpress.com/

Oh Jemima!

 

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A funny old ryhme my mother used to sing to us does anyone else remember it or know its origin:

” Oh Jemima look at your uncle Jim,
he’s in the duck pond learning how to swim,
first he does the breast stroke, …
then he does the side,
but now he’s under the water
swimming against the tide”…

Dedicated to my mum Josie Icke (nee Lomas) 11.11.1923- 20.10.93
Originally born Tideswell, High Peak but lived in Coniston Avenue, Litle Hulton, Salford 1952 -1993.

And my friend Nigel found another version of the same rhyme/tune.. was this a second verse or the original rhyme that was changed for fun?

“Oh Aunt Jemima, look at your Uncle Jim
Scrubbing out the passage with water, soap and vim.
First he kneels on his left knee
Then he kneels on his right
Now he’s knelt on a bar of soap
And skidded right out of sight”

Sent to you by Simon Icke #SimonIckeUK

Darians Freedom – Promote Yourself

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Walk in circles
Run in squares
Skip in zig zags
Jump up stairs

Step over cracks
Walk backwards
Splash in puddles
Balance on curbs

No need to talk
Just love walks
Might sing a note
Off with my socks

Toes sparkle
Feet are so cold
Crunch of leaves
In no ones mold

Being free, young
What I want, I’ll do
No chains on me
You should try it too

 Bernadette Rivera USA

Godesque – Promote Yourself

 

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Inception.reception.affection.deception
Exeption
Idolatrous love

What is the message, you may ask
Portraits of horrifically beautiful gods
Their faces mirror the vanity of their petrified existence

They came late to the party Scandalous adventures
Of a bored routine
A roar of a baby
Sentenced to lively live
In disdain

A sacred passion
A distorted belief
Relief
Rea.
This is my wee blog, in case you liked what you’ve read and want to check out my other poem attempts http://cabaretlife.wordpress.com/

October – Promote Yourself

 

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October, october i will never forget
Thank you for being the best part of my life yet
Thank you for looking out for me and bringing happiness to surround me
As the leaves slowly drop down and the wind heavily blows
Waiting for the whitest coats of snow
The thoughts, the joy and the sorrows to
The sun and the rain that brings colours through
Thank you with all respect, i hope winter is not what i expect
The cold, the miserable and busy too
Thank you october i do love you, as fall disappears
And the rain cry’s through all of the memories will be remembered too
Even if moments like this do not last
At least i can look back and say “I had a wonderful past”.

debby osami

Forgotten Memories – Promote Yourself

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Forgotten memories materialized,
Solemn, raved, swift.
A heaven incensed with
Love, hearty smiles, dreams.
Faded into a hell, dark skies,
Rain blood, shadows, death.
The rose one day in heaven,
Now gory hands, headed down,
Alone in the midst of bare desert.

Robert Ahanes (about.me/robertahanes)

The Needless Facade – Promote Yourself

 

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Come on, who are you trying to fool here
Why so determined to maintain that veneer
I see how you cling on unflappably
Afraid to let it slip lest they see the fracture within
The fear is crippling but I see the crack
Pour some honey on it, it’s courage you lack

You’re selling a you that’s quite untrue
Telling of a mangled image, nothing but a hack
The story without diverts from the tale within
Pour some milk on it let the mending begin

Still stubborn I see
Unwilling to pay vulnerability’s fee
It’s scary I know, it’s much easier to act plastic
But this adamant borders on the psychotic
The desperate hold you wield over the masquerade
Even an escaped drop of tenderness you quench or fade
Pour some ointment on it, soothe it away

While you have the opportunity, make hay
Before you become what you’d despise, make way
For the you I know to emerge
All are ready to sing the facade’s dirge
The song that marks your reality betrayed

So pour some wine and together rejoice
You hear the collective sigh
And the gratitude of your peers in one relieved voice

Setor Dzisenu
Accra, Ghana
Like and follow at http://www.esetworld.wordpress.com

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