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Bonfire Night

firefirexxx

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

A LETTER TO A MOTHER IN SPIRIT

 

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Dear Mother, It is very hard,

As I do not know where to start,

These few words I send to you,

Come from within my heart.

 

Now that you are no longer with me,

You are always on my mind,

I remember you were very gentle,

And to me, so very kind.

 

Sometimes I said things to hurt you,

But you took it in your stride,

And although you never shown it,

You must have hurt inside.

 

You helped me through my heartaches,

And problems I could not bear,

For I know that in the background,

You were always there.

 

I suppose I took you for granted,

My enemy and my friend,

My eyes are filled with tears,

For this letter I cannot send.

 

You are no longer with me,

For you have gone to a better place,

I miss the love you gave me,

And the smile upon your face.

 

Mother, I love you very much,

That is all I want to say,

These greetings I send you,

Because it is Mothers Day…

 

Malcolm G Bradshaw

STOLEN HANDS – Promote Yourself

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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

Earth angels

Angels are all around us

Look out for them on this earth

They have been with us all the time

From the moment of our material birth

There are many other angels

Who all come in different sizes

People who walk this world

Show themselves in different guises

Ordinary people passing by

Close friends and family too

For when you are in trouble

They will be there for you

You are yourself and angel

When you feel someone’s pain

Seeing those who are suffering

Wishing them all well again

Not all angels are angelic

Be aware what you say and do

For those that looks least likely

Could be an angel standing next to you

By Malcolm Bradshaw

Who is in control


 
When the sun is setting in the western sky
And the daylight surrenders to the darkness of the night
When the day’s work is done and people have time to relax
When the stars of the Milky Way come into sight
Then the magnitude of the universe pervades my soul
And I ask myself the question “who is in control?”
 
If God is in control why do so many disasters occur?
Why do the powers of evil have so much sway?
These are the questions that I often ask myself
As I lie on my bed at the closing of the day
I have a faith that joy can overcome sorrow
And that daylight will bring a new tomorrow
 
Many folk believe that God was responsible for creation
But looking around the world today many doubts arise
For all they can see is turmoil and disorder
And nothing that happens is much of a surprise
Church attendance is falling, there are fewer people in the pews
Which means that fewer people are hearing the gospel’s good news
 
For this reason many folk lack faith in the future
And their lives are lacking any real foundation
The gospel message provides hope and strength for living
Which in times of trouble is a source of consolation
In our despair it will bring comfort to our soul
And we shall never doubt who really is in control
 
Ron Martin

The Tramp

Cold as ice
there he sat

Dreaming about
this and that,

Of what could
have been

If  he’d stayed
within the social scene

Each night his
shadow lies under the lamp,

He is
identified as the local tramp

The park is his
home,

Nowhere else to
roam

No hidden
agenda

Or anyone to
care for,

No personal
appointments to keep

No people at all 
to  meet

No-one to
explain to when he isn’t there,

No sacrifice to
bare

The owls watch
over him at night

Under the lamp
in the moonlight,

Where empty
beer cans surround him

Next to the
rubbish in the bin

The tramp that
wants to be alone,

And to leave
his identity unknown

By Gillian Sims

“Autumn” – Promote Yourself

autumn landscape
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

Goose fair poems

goosefair-goose

 

As soft as clouds, as pink as a rose, the smell of the candy floss won’t leave your nose.

It’s like a sky scraper standing proud and tall, though when I am in it I feel very small.

Whizzing as fast as the speed of light, I get a headache as I watch the sight.  (Written by Megan King)

 

Rides spinning round and round, getting closer to the ground.

Sounding like volcanoes erupting. (Written by Adrian Wagstaffe )

 

The bright lights hit her head with a bang!

She wandered over to the food van.

Rides whizzing past.

As she queues up for one rather fast.  (Written by Isobel Pye)

 

The candy floss is oh so nice, you will have to eat it twice! ( Written by Holli-Ann Beer)

EVEN SCHOOL KIDS ARE GETTING THE POETRY BUG

SO COME TO NOTTINGHAM AND HAVE SOME FUN AT THE NOTTINGHAM GOOSE FAIR

Constant Pain – Promote Yourself

 

pian life

 

 

 

 

 

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. 🙂

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

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

ART OF HUMAN NATURE – Promote Yourself

shadowglowxxxxxxx

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

FROZEN NIGHT – Promote Yourself

 

threennnnnnnn

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/

Shining Star of Sunlight – Promote Yourself

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Rainbows of Happiness LLC
Ball of light; glowing white-hot center.
bursting forth your rays, connecting sky to earth.
Illuminating the world from your perch;
amongst a field of blue speckled with cotton-colored clouds.
Brilliant morning star, sharing your light;
extending arms to every corner of the world.
Embracing Earth with warmth,
guiding all through darkness.
Beginning dawn with colorful visions;
weaved intricately in translucent spires.
Intensifying heat with day’s progression;
shining brighter as minutes turn to hours.
Reaching your precipice of strength;
you gather your numerous beams.
Sinking wordlessly into the horizon,
slowly disappearing with the first hint of evening.

 Jennifer L Roche

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/

The Needless Facade – Promote Yourself

 

maskxxxxxxxx

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

In Full Bloom – Promote Yourself

 

budsxxxxxxxxxx

Guardians sow seeds, some few
While they influence and mold
Rain love, wisdom and view
The bud begins to unfold

Anchored firmly in the ground

Small brain sponges up the dew
Retaining complex hold
Directions to aspire to
The blossoming to behold

Sweetened tad above the mound

Teenage thorns, the stem come thru
Refusing to be controlled
In full bloom, defiant hue
Crippled petals start to fold

Yielding blossoms can’t be found

With age, time, plant will renew
Reblooming with praise untold
Soaking in lights grace on cue
The legend of thorns retold

Sower and seed forever bound

Hi my name is Bernadette Rivera. I live in the USA. I’m 53 and have been writing since I was eight. I write childrens books, poetry,and I blog.
Reading and writing are my passion.

 

India is her name – Promote Yourself

Hi guys.
Love the site. Not sure of protocol here, but below is a poem I have written about my love for India, recently featured on my travel blog: http://twentyfirstcenturynomad.com
I’d love to have my work featured on your cool site, with a cheeky request to link back to my blog…if that’s okay?
Thanks a lot.

Indiaxxxxxxxx

India is her name

‘Evocative, repulsive, exotic, compulsive,

such a place I’ve traveled, to return much I’d give,

measures equal, serene beauty versus arduous pain,

against odds uneven, timeless dignity remains,

 

Amidst filth and squalor, death and anguish,

lies a peace and serenity, more respect I could not wish,

amazing grace in abundance, holy rivers and manners run deep,

a people so gracious, in shame did I weep,

 

In a land of plenty, yet a billion empty hands,

my own right to entitlement, I could no longer stand,

what one wants and one needs, in a moment becomes clear,

only sustenance to live, and warm hearts to hold dear,

 

Both her mountains and people, spectacular by birth,

I wager could not be found, a more honest place on earth,

despite her palaces and paupers, sacred cows, holy in vain,

cherished memories she gave me, and India is her name.’

By Steven Moore


Twenty First Century Nomad, Novelist & Freelance Writer.
http://www.twentyfirstcenturynomad.com

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