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Wednesday 3 March 2021

Penny Authors and the their Poem 1-2

 Penny Authors (PA) & their poem 1-2


We are delighted to introduce the Penny Authors and their poems published in the anthologies. PA has brought together a diverse group of people, PA is open to all nationality and all backgrounds to come together and share what we all love, writing.



Kids Can Rule

By Paul Harvey

 

Look at the children

They’ll show us the way

These souls want us to know that

That’s where to begin

Like taking a shower

We wash and we sing

Forgetting the hassle

Which is the cause of?

Most sins

The troubles

Diseases

We call it our age

Look at it from their point.

Most problems

They will fade

They’re happy we know this

Can’t take that from them

Just wait till tomorrow

They’ll shake you

Once again

 

 

  

The Halloweeen Poem

By Zainab Khan

 

Halloweeen, Halloweeen

Oh! scary halloweeen

October you scary month

Why do we have you?

 

You're scary as a horror movie and a real monster.

All of the frightening stuff scares me

I shake so much that

I want my adorable cute cat to hug me.

 

But, what I love about lovely halloweeen is

that you go out on trick or treat and get sweets,

and after you come home you relax calmly

 

I love halloweeen

 

Happy halloweeen!



Childhood Laughter

By Mayar Akash

 

When I found kindness and comfort

I started to open up

My grey shadows slowly started to disappear

as happiness and laughter took over

My mind eased as sadness ceased.

 

As warmth and gaiety christened my soul

my heart filled with hopes

For once my sadness and sorrow left me,

singing merrily with the sun shining in my life.

 

For once I had the taste of sincere warmth

one big happy family, not mine to call it; my own

but, where I temporarily found my childhood suspended:

lingering with fear of,

condemnation, ridicule, obligation, acceptance, freely sharing my thoughts.

My childhood laughter that stood in the dark,

as the light shone pass my childhood years.

 

Happiness joined my childhood  laughters

which stood in the dark for so long,

As I took happiness for granted

harsh words fermented,

penetrated my mind's barriers .

 

Naturally closed and retained the unattained childhood,

now I need to pay for having a piece of childhood happiness.



PA2 




You are Beautiful!

By Isaac Harvey

 

Was playing an online game

and I was in a chat room with a really good friend.

We were talking and somebody randomly comes in and says

‘I’m ugly’ or something a long them lines.

 

Then my friend says

 ‘You’re beautiful as everyone is’

and I was like

 ‘I need to write about this’.

 

Everyone is beautiful!

Whatever you may say or what someone may tell you…

 you are beautiful.

 

Don’t let haters bring you down,

defeat them by spreading your beauty and ignoring them.

Wow that really sounded cheesy,

forget what I just said and I want you to go out there and be positive about yourself.

 

Just because you may not look as good as David Beckham

or Kim Kardashian

 doesn’t mean you are ‘ugly’

you just unique and

 should be proud!


Once

Ellis Dixon-King

 

Once on a lined piece of paper tucked under his mattress

he wrote a poem called “tuckers bridge”

because that was the name of his favourite

bridge where he lived

he showed it to his best friend and he said it was great

and his mum stuck it on the fridge

and showed it to his sister

that was the year he found his favourite book store

and there was a wedding

with crying and claps

and his mum and dad kissed

and round the corner he met a new friend

and the boy said he was sad

and he asked his dad why he was sad

his dad always watched his favourite show with

him at night and was always laughing.

 

Once on a crinkled paper tucked in a draw

he wrote a poem called “Cold”

because that is what it was

he showed it to his best friend and he

said it was okay

and his mum stuck it on the fridge

and showed it to his sister

and that was the year

his favourite book store owner said they might close down

because there wasn’t enough customers

and that was the year the married couple lost a child

and his mum and dad stopped kissing

and his friend from round the corner got too sad

so he asked his dad, why?

his dad didn’t watch his favourite show with him and

he didn’t laugh

and his father said he was too busy

so he went straight to bed

 

Once he wrote a poem in a torn bit from his note book

called, “aging”

because he was aging

he couldn’t show it to his best friend because he was

always with his girlfriend

or new friends

his mum was always at work so she couldn’t hung it

and his sister stayed at her boyfriends

that was the year the book store closed

down, the married couple broke up, his mum

and dad didn’t even talk

his dad was always busy or drunk

so he went straight to bed

 

Once he wrote a poem called “nothing”

because he felt that he didn’t show anyone

because by the time he finished the handful of pills

he wasn’t alive to do so.


Juxtapose RV

By Rebekah Vaughan



 

…and lastly

for starters

an ingrained

one off

whilst fencing in

an infinity

a murderous saint

sings in silence

of entropic evolution

But first

the conclusion

because I'm bored

when dumbfounded

building destruction

from isolated concoction

trashy treasures

painful pleasure

hardworking leisure

with wonky alignment

+ benevolent hate

 

I'm sprinting

- at a standstill

it all fully drained

because the fact is

its fiction

like freedom

in addiction?

So right

It's wrong

so short

its long

so dull

yet brilliant

when moving

so still

-boilingly frozen

-maddeningly calm

 

So when the courtroom

is squatted

it’s a raver's retreat

fast pace

present past

roasted raw

falling flight

all day

through the night

so when invisibility

is seen

and reality's

a dream

I'm in chained in freedom

- heart thinks

-mind felt

uniquely the same

for we many in body

-yet one in mind

as an ocean of knowledge

is contained in a drop

forever is

as always was

and maybe…

is something

to be remembered

only once forgot

divinely debouched

roughly refined

sky high in the gutter

suffering the sublime

 

Internal cornucopia

chemical innate

fate fuelled ambition

let love navigate.

 

Surrender

By Muhammed Nurul Huque

 


I am a Bangladeshi woman

living in complete isolation

 

in unfamiliar surroundings.

Hatred, fear, loneliness, boredom and dejection

are my enemies! around my neck and brain

night and day they tighten

their cruel grip.

Terror, disease, disappointment and depression

continually make their depredation.

I have been made abnormal, mad.

Neither white nor black shed tears for me,

nor does the Bangladeshi elite worry,

this society is killing me, but nobody is sorry.

 

Again a word about housing.

It is a long tale.

Nobody is caring.

Labour, Conservative equally fall.

All look for our labour's cheap sale.

They say Europe's squatters' capital in Tower Hamlets.

In London -forty thousand empty flats,

But to us the council never lets.

Racist blame Bengalis for living in squats,

but no housing solution comes forward.

We do not form one fourth of the squatters.

Still the allegation is: we are the creators

of all nasty dangerous problems:

We question who is responsible for stabbing

during broad daylight?

Who carries on daylight robbery?

who spreads ghoulish fright?

If you're lucky, if you apply and entreat

times without number-

maybe in one case out of a thousand,

the council breaks its slumber.

Still your flat would be in an unfamiliar place-

racist think it is a great grace.

Do you expect a flat in surroundings familiar?

'You want a ghetto: you are a conspirator'

Those troubles, who would bear them?

In spite of all these

we Bangladeshi honestly pursue our profession,

work with dedication

in Spitalfields and Tower hamlets.

 

We give our time, energy and sweat,

we know this land belongs to all-

Whites-Blacks-Browns-

Toiling millions,

by colour or culture whatever their brand:

Yom Kippur-Christmas-Eid-February Twenty First

Sawarsati-Durga Puja-Ramzan

Muharram-first Baishak

call to Sukanta-Nazrul-Rabindra Jayanti celebrations.

Bengali school, welfare and youth organisations-

let all these merge in our work, life and creation.

 

We have settled here, we are cautious,

we Danes, Romans, Normans, Jews, Irish, West Indians,

Bangalees, Chinese, Arabs and other Asians.

We are determined to build a brotherhood

climbing the stairs of time.

Surrender? We are not in that moo

 


Next two anthologies 3 & 4



to come...



Penny Authors is so much more, it is about helping about helping each other to shine.  Travel with them wherever these poems go; it global!

Help them, their work, through social media, blogs, press release, articles, radio plugs, readings, open mics and so on.

PA is a life long inclusion, and what you put in you will get back more.


Our core drive is "Accomplishment of Attaining our Aspiration! (AAA)"



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