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Daily Archives: April 24, 2014

Wild- Wood – Promote Yourself


Likened it to a system in itself, me in the middle of its breath
the wild-wood sits untouched
(almost). The hard-core
track around which we walked, once. The hides I stumbled upon
for a wax coat and a gun and the tracks that lead your prey
to the barrel and its shells. Trees felled, forest management perhaps
but forests managed before definitely.

This bench blurs in my mind with the last time, before I left when
I apologised for leaving without eye contact and a ran down the hill whilst you walked.

Trees retain memory and start feeding it back to me, like poison
contained within our secret.

Chris Bates


“Stories” – Promote Yourself


We all have a tale to tell, 

And a  path to follow, 

In this vague and shadowy world.

Some dreams are fulfilled, 

While others are forsaken,

And as we grow older

A new reality is unfurled.

We all have a story, with 

Triumphs and tragedy.

We have songs unsung,

And youthful visions of 

Grandeur and glory.

Some are forgotten, or far-flung,

Simply cast aside.

Some of us learn, we grow self aware;

While others do not, and still more

Rely solely on prayer.

Fed up with fairy tales,

They hide behind lies, 

And they believe ancient myths,

Told within a new guise.

Embracing these mysteries,

They never know, 

That some defeats, are more 

Triumphant than victories.

We all have a tale to tell,

As you surely know,

Since you generously share,

Your story so well.

You reveal subtle insights,

When you share your worldly wisdom,

Your fears, and your brokenness, 

With dignity and trust. 

Giving more of yourself,

So others benefit, 

When their intuitions prove unjust.

Your sensitivity, and savoir faire,

Have untold ripple effects, 

As we share, your expertise and flair.

You touch countless lives,

Many more than you will ever realize.

Reminding me again again

I must not despair,

For we all have a story,

And a story can change a life.

(for Marc)

HOME. – Promote Yourself

~                                                  Home is where the heart is that’s what I say,no matter who thinks in any way.          You feel cosy and safe and comfy too all curled up with you know who.                      Home is where your life begins, you grow up and  see things.                                        Things will change as you know your life begins as you grow,                                      home is where you need to be as you go as your free,as you spread your wings and fly,don’t you just wonder when you  sigh.                                                          ~                                                                    Home is where you may be even under the Christmas tree,life at home is complete don’t you just think its so neat.      Now I’m grown life is good its my home now understood.                                            ~                  patricia bourne 



I feel empty, like a bottomless pit,


I cannot explain why.


I feel a pain in my soul,


For which there is no remedy.

Everything around me seems to be static and monotonous,


While inside me, there is an endless turmoil.


People ask me why I’m like this?


People ask me the reason for such anxiety?


People ask me why I fee such emptiness?


So many questions for someone who has no answer.


Why there is a need to explain everything?


Why there is none just to hear me without saying a thing?


I seek no answers and no solutions,


I just want to be the way I am, complicated, painful, tearful, melancholy and a  poet.


No, the world has no place for those who have no answers,


There is no place for someone with unexplained feelings,

Why not think of the complexity of the human being?

I’m body, soul and spirit,


How to find out where is my concern?


I was medicated for the body, without being healed.


I did therapy for the soul, without finding peace.

I did prayer for the spirit, without being answered.


I do not know if I’m sick or the others,


If I am sick, I accept the fate and seek for healing,


If the others are sick, why they blame me?


Why would they demand me to change?


Cruel world, for both healthy and diseased!


I do not believe in the health of any living soul, we are all diseased,


I have never encountered a complete healthy man!


Those who say they are completely healthy, mostly are sicker than all,


I assumed my disease and have prepared me for the pain,


For everything in life hurts!


One day they reproached me for speaking so much about pain,


The other day they made ​​me deny what I am and what I feel,


People told me to simply put on a false cloak of normality.

I was not born for lies, I was born to walk with a naked soul,


I was born to cause scandal, like the one caused to me by Theresa, the saint, from which emanated so much light, even though she said that she was walking in darkness, she was another restless soul.


I’m this, which you sees, but that changes every moment,


When I explain what I am at the end of the sentence I am already another being,


With new pain, new anxieties, new emptiness.


No, don’t have pity on me, I hate pity,


As the poet said, ‘even Solomon in all his glory wasn’t happier than I’m in my misery,


Neither the midday sun is brighter than me in my darkness,

Neither the healthiest has more strength than I in my weakness,

Neither the wisest knows more than I do in my ignorance.


I’m not lost,


I’m not confused,


I’m not faithless,

I’m just a poet, I’m just a contradiction…

by Luis A R Branco 

Luis Alexandre Ribeiro Branco | 
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