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This poem was recently published in the book THE GREAT BRITISH WRITE OFF
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
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
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
I think I will write up some words,
I’m scared that you’ll find them absurd,
I’ll give it a go,
‘Cause you never know,
Ideas take flight just like birds.
My parents taught me right from wrong,
I’m glad that it did not take long,
If they hadn’t done that,
Then I’d be a spoilt brat,
Though I think I’ve been one all along.
It’s time for us friends to part ways,
We’ve come to the end of our days,
But let’s not say goodbye,
‘Cause that will make me cry,
We’ll go and leave nothing to say.
Look now into fire’s amber hue,
Let your eyes be stuck as by glue,
Remember the past times,
Absolved now of your crimes,
A man who can now start anew.
I go to your school
Yea, I’m that guy
The one you know
But choose to
Granted you’re busy
Too ah, caught up
In trying to get along
To feel that sense
Of what is the word-
No, I’m sorry
I didn’t mean that
Well, yes I did
I see you everyday
You see me
The brush of a shoulder
Heading to class
And just that brief encounter
Thus far defines who you are to me
Who I am to you
Who might sea …
I walk past you
How our lives interact
In the eyes of our community
Our worlds are labeled as different
Suggested the ‘Man’ to everyone
Thom Amundsen 2013
All ready I’ve
To try and write it out
My feelings flowing
On this unforgiving page.
See I once
While i plotted lives
With a cold hearted
Now my hands
Only to my
There is no longer
Solace in a
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
A life is filled with things we might have done
Choices not taken that we later wish we’d picked
Other times there were things said or actions
In retrospect, our own behind we should have kicked.
Yet none of us are perfect so we do make mistakes
Too many times we overreact and have our minds set
Whether just a wrong course or feelings gets hurt
We can’t dwell, spending our days living with regret.
We must learn from the past and look to the future
Not everyone will accept that we can change course
Those are the ones that will never let go of doubt
All you can do is move on, not making things worse.
We look to ones that will accept us as we truly are
Realizing the person we are inside, offering a hand
Look through the windshield, not the rearview mirror
Find those that will, by your side, always stand.
At the back of those high trees in junior school.
That never ever seemed to grow gold in autumn.
It’s still there I bet – petrified. Old. stone skin.
Knees supporting a chin somehow still held high.
With a muddy arse on blooded school trousers.
Just still lacking whatever that place kept
Telling me I lacked.
We are different people him and I
He is my Bukowski’s bluebird
The boy I nurture and protect. As me and my own.
No one sees him – no one hurts him.
Only problem is –
He tells me what he used to tell everybody
“I’m fine, nothing to worry about, I just fell over”
I wish I didn’t know any different.
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,
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.
Tonight our world will ring a new bell
A notion we have intimately embraced
Tonight is the wealth of our predecessors
Everlasting faith and will to believe; to live
We are human
We are real
We stand tonight
We are surreal
In the lovely arms of equality
Life has been patiently moving forward
Suggesting who we are may be acknowledged
We are progressive in the eyes of the law
And you are my partner
And I am your lover
And now ours is forever
And we are together
The world will hold court today
We watch hands held together
At the strike of a twilight hour
In that first minute change is real
For even in our childhood when love
Seemed only generated by family
As we grew old and shed innocence
There arose a new confidence in love
Tested in our every walk of life
Tested by our friends and family
Tested by our will to understand
Tested and passed when love …
Watch close, we reference the human condition
Society has challenged itself to be the agent
Creates a new path that everyone in His eyes
Evolve with deeper, heartfelt, delicious love
August 1st, 2013
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.
Trysh L Thompson