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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!

Poems you sent to us about this picture, taken in our garden

DCIM100MEDIA

Here is my submission for the current picture of the Bird and the Snow

Copyright image taken by  Poetree Creations

All for Her

“It was all for her” the swallow said
As it swelled its breast with pride
Watching the man with black umbrella
Walk from side to side

“It was all for her” The man softly spoke
As he considered all he had
And kept his feet to shuffle between
The snows pile up ahead.

“It was all for her” The snow declared
As it whittled down its stock
Becoming just another pile
Of water among the rocks
 
“It was all for her” the rocks declared
As they mark the borders by
And so the sun may glisten upon
Their bumped backs, soft and dry

“It was all for me” the sun affirmed
As she raised her gentle head
And watched the people praise her warmth
Wishing for Summers heat  instead.

 

I am Philisapherhttp://lisainger.com/

Here is my submission for the current picture of the Bird and the Snow

robin
…and if this
       little bird
                               could share of what it’s
                                               mind conceives, would I even
                                               understand how simple life
                                                can be …
 
 
thanks for the opportunity.   Lita
 
 
   EstreLita Pondoc
How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours.
~ Wayne Dyer

I’ve composed a poem for your contest with the chickadee in the snow picture.  

And then there was one…And so, here I am, upon the winter of my joie de vivre,
where once were perched two friendly birds; now rests thus only one.
A wooden cage erected hence, that I can never leave,
the snow the only thing that will remember when I’m done.
 
I cannot see the outside world as I once knew I could —
I gaze through disconnected visage, staring at the cold.
The bitter chill assaults me, and I’m left from what is good;
My breath hangs in the air, and with each second, I grow old.
 
The greens are grey around me; all the flowers?  Gone to sleep.
A broken tree breaks through the white of everpresent ice;
all around the wooden husk, the ivy starts to creep
and strangle out its life and each last wisely sage advice.
 
The earth’s adorned in frosted dew just as a christening gown.
There’s empty footprints in the snow aside my freezing feet,
At last I feel the slumber, and I lay my body down,
at the winter of my life, so maybe now, I’ll feel complete.
Brad Bricktower

four Limericks by Mark Sherriff – Promote Yourself

LIMERICKS

WORDS

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.

MANNERS

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.

FRIENDS

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.

START ANEW

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.
Mark Sherriff

Might Listen

 

 BriefEncounter

I go to your school

Yea, I’m that guy

The one you know

But choose to

Ignore

I mean,

Granted you’re busy

Too ah, caught up

In trying to get along

To achieve

To feel that sense

Of what is the word-

Entitlement …

No, I’m sorry

I didn’t mean that

Well, yes I did

You see

I see you everyday

But well,

And

I know

You see me

Paths cross

Moments define

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

See?

Our worlds are labeled as different

Suggested the ‘Man’ to everyone

Thom Amundsen 2013

STOLEN HANDS – Promote Yourself

handsxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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

Regrets

feather

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.

 Charles Townsend

Don’t Worry, Kid – Promote Yourself

bluebirdxxxxxxxxx
I shed my skin many years ago.

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.

-Christopher Flame

christopherflame.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

By a tree, one summer morning – Promote Yourself

willow

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.

Marital Bliss is on Equal Ground

marriagexxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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

Thom Amundsen
August 1st, 2013

 

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

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

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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