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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

THE CITY – Promote Yourself

terrifying-ghost-sightings-8

Dusk in the city
The bars are filled with the young
Each with their own style
But as the bar fills
They
Bump into mirrors as
They squeeze past.
The man standing outside
Not
Interested in the crowd
His smoke blows into the air
It dances with the mists
Of time
That are forever present
On these streets
Haunted tonight
Not from histories ghosts
The ghost of her.
The buildings
Each one a reminder of something
They passed at one time
Hand in hand
Life in life.
Now no more
Their life now becomes
More mist to be added
To this city.

There is a building over the road
The window face out over
A crossroads.
How many have sat
And dreamed about a life to come
Or a life that was.
Plans so important to those
Who sat there?
Now only remembered
By the walls that
Still stand.
The cigarette stubbed out
Placed in the bin
In case the birds eat it
She was always worried about those birds
A small smile comes on his face
Another bit dies inside
Over the loss.
Passes through the others
Standing in the bathroom
Washing his hands
Trying to wash away the decision made
He knows the ghosts
Are telling him something
When he is unable to look
At himself in the mirror.

Gabriel Denver

The Steam engine

I remember the Steam engine

Thrashing out the wheat,

steamroller working

Laying out our street.

The Steam Trains,

Bellowing out their smoke.

Watching from the bridge,

Trains passing made me choke.

Steam boats on the river,

Chugging up and down,

Children smiling faces,

As they raced around.

Days spent by the embankment,

Paddling in the pool,

Children eating ice cream

Trying to keep them cool.

Trams clanking too and fro

Memories from the past

All these things I remember,

The years have gone so fast

Memories of Nottingham

Flowers that bloom in May

Memories I will treasure

Until my dying day

By Malcolm Bradshaw

9th Competition

For the baby’s sake


Pregnant woman smoking,

Which bit will you damage next?

Perhaps a brain cell here and there?

Perhaps a heart beat could be vexed.

You never know, perhaps a toe.

Your inhaling has  in sight,

Or maybe the baby’s liver

Is to be rendered not quite right.

The choice is not entirely yours,

Smoke will have its own quiet way,

And, passively, the babe you carry

Simply has no say.

So, this is for your baby

Taking its hurt to heart.

Speechless little victim.

Let this poem voice your part.

Ron Gardner, 
27/3/11

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