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Forbidden Love

fofbiden love
Hidden secrets
Secret smiles
Smiles hidden
Truth forbidden
Forbidden love
Love secrets
Secret smiles
Smiles hidden
Hidden secrets
Locked tight
Strongest tension
Strangling tight
Tight emotion
Emotion hidden
Secret smiles
Smiles forbidden
No compromise
Given

Gillian Sims

This poem was recently published in the book THE GREAT BRITISH WRITE OFF

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

The Visitor

pumpkinssssssss

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

CALLING ALL POETS – PROMOTE YOURSELF AND DANCE ON OUR STAGE

poetry mmmmmmmmmmmmm

 

 

LET YOUR POEM MINGLE WITH OTHERS

LET YOUR POEM:

DANCE ON OUR STAGE

ANY LENGTH, ANY SUBJECT, ANY TIME

SEND YOUR WRITTEN WORK TO:gillianandthomas@yahoo.com

WE WILL GLADLY POST IT HERE FOR ALL TO SEE ON OUR POETRY PLATFORM!

Believe in me

beachxxxxxx

I’m that face you see strolling by you
In a sea of strangers every morning
I see your eyes shifting away at the right moment
Your affect sheds a little fear as we cross paths
And my eyes hit the ground again
Because you’re gone, rounded the corner
And my eyes search for the end result
While a memory moves through the space
~
I wonder again at lunch when across the room
Your friends are laughing while unnoticed
My eyes search for your connection
If only just a passing glance I am complete
Again for a couple of hours to relax and dream
That later in the day when our desks are rows apart
We can look across the room and indirectly interact
Quiet moods are real even I believe that can be true
~
Our lives exist by responding to a passing smile
An acknowledgement that feels real is the peace
That exists when from afar a person can connect
With another human being that gives them hope
Allows that instance to be enough inspiration
Intrigue, delight, fascination, to hold onto their memory
I will appear again in the morning ready for our routine
To cross paths early across the sea with an imagined wink
~
We are two souls that notice our lives are intertwined
Lacing the tangles that allow ourselves to really believe

Thom Amundsen 2013
Thinkingoutloudagain.wordpress.com

The Colours of Summer – Promote Yourself

beach8888888

My name is Denny B. Reese. I am a poet of Canada who graduated from Nipissing University with a Bachelor of English degree and am now working to be a self published author. Here is the poem “The Colours of Summer” that I would like to showcase on your site. I am thankful for the wonderful opportunity you offer.

The colours of summer
Come walk beside me on a summer day
See the children tossing sand
As they run across the beach with red pails in hand
Flashing smiles like the sun
And laughing with the gulls
See the white sails on the blue tinted horizon
Bobbing in the water like toy boats
In an overflowing bathtub
As the rush of water fills your ears
See the ball go up
Spinning away into the blue skies
Into the eye of the sun
Over the heads of children
Into the shining blue

What if I said no? A husbands rant -Promote Yourself

angerxxxxx

What if I said no,

What if I didn’t go?

Why won’t you leave me,

Go by yourself to see.

I haven’t lost one thing,

Nothing needed I can bring.

I know I’ll be annoyed,

Not once have I enjoyed.

Cart always pulls to right,

Never another one in sight.

Change carts and yet still,

Always get the bad wheel.

Items needed not in stock,

Empty shelves me they’ll mock.

Most list items once found,

Then the registers go down.

Didn’t want to be here,

After this I’ll need beer.

Hope you know I’m irritated,

By now you probably anticipated.

Shopping is such a chore,

Hate it more and more.

Worst part of my day,

Please, why can’t I stay?

By iamfunny2 and posted on okaywhatif.com. I’m from the U.S. and I hadn’t written any poetry since I was in school over 20 years ago until I started my blog in July of this year.

Panthalassa – Promote Yourself

oceanxxxx

They say you can drown
In just a few inches of water

Well I drowned that night

As naked as the day
That I wish I wasn’t born on
In the tepid water
Of what looked like a bathtub to you,
But was Panthalassa for me.

It was our last night together –
You said
You’d lost your warmth towards me –
You said

I sat there.
Water circling iceberg knees.
In your arms
Violently weeping for an hour and a half.
No me
No body or being
Just melancholy.

And the hope that you would lower me
Into that tepid water.

I drowned that night.

Or at least wished that I had.

 Christopher Flame
christopherflame.wordpress.com

Escape – Promote Yourself

gunxxxxxxx
She watched her oppressor
Every move he made was important to her
As she planned her escape, his demise
Freedom, finally, from the emptiness in her eyes.
Drunk on lust and whiskey, he attacked
She bore the pain and performed the unthinkable acts.
No longer afraid,
She attacked him as he stumbled away.
His anger erupted, the vicious swings came
Without fear, she picks up his gun – takes aim
Bullets pierced the night and his blood rained.
He was dead in an instant,
But she paused only to wipe off her fingerprints.
She walked away from that place
Renewed hope, and for the first time in years, a smile on her face.

Thank you for this opportunity. For the last few years, all of my poems have been written, and put on my hard-drive, never to be seen by anyone but me. I realize now, that although protecting myself from critique, I was also violating the basics of being a writer – we write for ourselves, but we also write for others.

Sincerely,
Trysh L Thompson

Come to our Halloween party.Take part, send your poetry and be part of the show!

halloweenxxxxxxxxxxxx

One Heart, One Loss, One Day

flowersxxxxxxxxx

As we journey through this uncertain life
We live, we love, we laugh, we grieve
We can hope that days will be joyously filled
But we lift our heads high and try to believe.

We are given one heart and we protect it
Not that we won’t make mistakes in trust
Broken can be mended, just don’t harden
Give freely when in love, not just for lust.

We deal with the loss of those that we love
Sad, but one of the truths we must now live
We don’t forget them but we try to move on
Knowing they would want us to still give.

We are given each day the things that we need
However, wants that we have are not always met
We make the most of the time we are given
Hoping that love and life is what we might get.

Charles Townsend

Goose Fair

gallopers24

Goose Fair has been celebrated from days of old

When geese were brought to Nottingham to be sold

Thousands would gather for the sale

While many others came just to drink the ale

With so many people gathered there

The sale gradually changed into a bustling fair

An annual celebration to be enjoyed by all

A time of entertainment when the autumn began to fall

Folk gathered to watch the wrestlers and performing bears

Feats of skill by jugglers they had practised down the years

There were side shows with freaks thought to be funny

And folk could have a laugh if they paid their entrance money

You could have your fortune told if you had a penny

The gypsies told their stories,but did not convince many

They took it in good humour,but some hoped it would come true

Especially when they were told ‘ good luck would come to you’

The barrel organ was invented,the music was loud and shrill

And this added to the pleasure of those looking for a thrill

The development of the steam engine led to the carousel

Which waits to join the action when the Lord Mayor rings the bell

At noon in the first Thursday of October in every year

The Lord Mayor gives a welcome to everybody there

They come from far and near,there is excitement in the air

The geese no longer come, but it’s still called Goose Fair

Ron Martin

In My Mind

 

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Memories are always part of us
Whether we share them or hold on
The mind can replay when needed
Especially from dusk to dawn.

Thoughts spill forth of you still
The curve of your face and smile
Scents of a shower or your perfume
Eyes closed you linger for a while.

Soft cotton slips to the floor
Candlelight dances on your skin
Light kisses and caresses flow
Emotions heighten once again.

Two hearts beating in unison
Fingers laced as we make love
It might be just a moment now
But still fits like a glove.

Dreams might be all that’s left
Keep them safe and hold them tight
The sunrise will bring a new day
For now, there is still the night.

Charles Townsend

Graypoet

Can you live in a home of wretchedness? – Promote Yourself

hello, I have poem that I would like you to promote on your successful blog, if you wouldn’t mind doing so.

its called “can you?” by myself, Tatiana Agatha Ennin.

my friend, Dajon Hoyte-Bruce and I run the poetry blog known as “ourpoeticinsanity.wordpress.com” just for reference

cloudyxxxxxxxxxxx

You could bathe in a tub of cloudy tears to keep your mind “clean”…

You could feed yourself false propositions to oppose the hunger in your heart…

You could keep yourself warm with the scalding words that his tongue produced…

You could dress yourself in an attire of which consisted of a burden balanced on your head,

A weakened covering to protect your chafed, run down, calloused feet,

An emotional scarf weaved from the fibres of hardship, guilt, confusion and doubt.

Wrapped chokingly tight

around your neck.

To protect yourself from the cold air striking and reaching your chest.

Your chapped mouth…

And

Your insensitive nose.

?

Can you ever die in a home of wretchedness?

 

You could strangle yourself with the ropes that restricted you from trusting and feeling emotion.

You could hang yourself with the words that lifelessly and meaninglessly dangled from your lip.…

 

You stand on the boulder of corruption.

Hoping to majestically land on the base of which an overabundance of reliability and

inhabitation existed on…

 

You jump,

And wonder if you’re committing one of society’s most conventional motives.

 

You took the leap of something that would offer you ‘faith’.

 

You gracefully took the leap of death.

-t.a.e

 

 

I would also appreciate it greatly if you gave me any personal feedback or response, via email. As I am a budding poet, aged 14 and I could definitely use some mature response.

thank you.
from Tatiana and Dajon :).

The News

sunlightxxxxxxxxxxxx

The rains came today
Amidst news of government shutdowns.
In a mid-town café
All the faces held practiced frowns,
Voices lingered,
High pitched with banters pledged
“Well I figured,”
Shouted a nearby man on the edge.

When the skies lit up
There wasn’t any discussion of reprieve.
I could reach for my cup
Of java while around the room a sieve,
A genuine distaste
Reactive politics by those thought elite.
Withheld ideals erased
While outside quiet rains began to isolate

See, there is beauty
When in and around me economics falter
Somehow I feel pity
A kind soul is caught in rains without shelter
In the morning
A burst of sunlight will endure the horizon
And while waking
Our society is left to once again find reason

Yet in the midst of cloudy judgment and scattered reigns
Might our heart and soul appreciate just the simple rains

Thom Amundsen
thinkingoutloudagain.wordpress.com

Hands – villanelle – Promote Yourself

woman-walking-hand-in-hand-in-studio-silhouette-isolat

 

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

Nature’s Mirrors – Promote Yourself


battlellllllllllllll

Puddles on the pavement,
pools of light beneath brooding skies,
reservoirs of captured rain,
unique displays of movement,
as brilliant white swirls through oily black,
and the storm erases memories of the sun.

A flash of colour, of life, as I pass,
there a moment, but gone now, forever,
a puddle has no memory,
and life is brief in nature’s mirrors.

Next, I pause a while, transfixed,
staring into shallow depths,
imagination runs wild, searching,
knowing only tarmac resides,
yet seeing other rippled worlds,
over my distorted gargoyles face,
perhaps a warning, a guardian?
Fantasies, devoid of reality,
removed from my mind, as
only a mind’s eye has power here,
lost in the moment, drawn down,
lured into the murky lagoon,
where incubus and angels do battle.

Lightning flashes now,
breaks the spell, smashes melancholy,
I surface once more,
gasping for stifled air,
haunting images, crystal in clarity.

I am back, yet will I remember that,
which nature’s mirror will not?”

If you like my words, why not check out y travel blog? Twenty First Century Nomad,
Steve.
Twenty First Century Nomad, Novelist & Freelance Writer.
http://www.twentyfirstcenturynomad.com

The Biography Of An Ordinary Man – Promote Yourself

smokingxxxxxxxx

The flame passes over,
It can light a cigarette
and also end a marriage
He smiles at the irony
And inhales
Holds it in for that second too long
Slow suicide some call it
Idiots
We are all dying slowly
Life is a lottery
Only this one your number
Is guaranteed to come up.
He is not usually a morose guy
Just practical
Sees life for what it is
The moment when dreams die
And reality takes over
At that point
When dreams become truth,
Disappointment
Also brings an understanding .
He blows the smoke into the air
And toasts the understanding with life
You ground me down
I’ll give you that
But at least now
You’ll leave me alone.
At least he has this place
Not much
But really what do you need
A bed
A nice shade on the walls
And a record player.
Life has taken my dreams
But not my LP; s
Not even the wife got them
Funny
That’s all I wanted from her
But when I’m gone
Those boxes
Will be placed in a charity shop
No clue to their importance
No way of telling
How many tears
Ran side by side with the needle
That’s life I guess
The biography of an ordinary man.

Gabriel Denver

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