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Monthly Archives: September 2014

Making of a Mean Girl – Promote Yourself


You started with bows in your hair,
holding momma’s hand,
long dresses at your ankles
with stains of mud and grass.
You climbed trees with your girlfriends
and said “no boys aloud.”
You smashed dandelions to your face
like the blush momma wears
and caught grasshoppers and worms
after a cool rain.
You started with your hands open,
reaching out to your best friends.

You watched the television commercials
with their women and men and sex
and wanted to buy their shampoo.
You saw the music videos
with the naked hips that sway
and wanted to learn to dance.
You saw the glorified thigh gap
or read somewhere that “real women have curves”
and cried in front of the mirror.
You climbed down your tree fort
for some romeo below
who stared up your skirt.

Hayli Cox

The Sky Above Weeps. – Promote Yourself

rainy day

The sky above weeps.

Bloated rain drops

Languidly roll down glass sheets,

Like crystalline beetles

Scurrying and



Outside people ebb

And flow like shoals of fish.

Scintillating streams

Pouring down streets

With a canvassed sheen;

Spilling out into town and country.

A deluge.


Their waves crash down with a sound

Like towers of fragile flutes

Toppling to the ground,

Countless grey faces reflecting

In the foam of all the all-consuming,



Yet somewhere, beyond sight,

Brilliant white birds soar:

A gliding reverie

In a clear swept azure.

By Jay St John Knight.

Mystique and magical fun

Wow it is Goose Fair

Where I have arrived

A magical land

Full of glistening jewels,

That stands before my eyes

Every one lit up like

Diamonds in a crown

Like a rainbow in the sky,

The beauty is all around

Like a magnetic field,

It beckons me

To the  mystique of the big wheel,

I follow the crystals

One by one,

Every one a different colour

Enticing me to discover,

Each and every ride

Is mystique and magical fun

By Gillian Sims

Why Poetry … for a Message … Dramatic? – Promote Yourself


Harder to write and to read than prose, but poetry
expresses far more elegantly, passionately
and emotively than one may ever, hopefully,
aspire to … prosaically.
A form of written expression … so seemingly … like lyrical hymn,
has been … historically … so seemingly … favored by Him.
To wit, the superlative verse of the great poets, amongst them,
Ovid, Emily, Robert … and the immortal … William.
Shakespeare’s reputation, amongst thoughtful (wo)men
is amongst … the best … of the west.
It is complemented by the east’s, Khalil Gibran;
between them; amongst the best … of the best.
And so it has been that inspired by Him, Willy,
Khalil, Ovid, Robert and Emily, et. al., when expressively
needing to deliver a passionate message … dramatically,
authors know; there’s no better way … than poetically. 
By Miguel Vera from Puerto Rico

@chachomanopapa on Twitter

Warnings Around Us … War … is Surrounding Us – Promote Yourself

The lesson of Japan’s Mount Ontake volcano: catastrophic change is, potentially,
but a moment away … a fine autumn day … turned deadly.
Oh, what a specious … species … are we. With abundant signs of potentially
imminent change all about us, we turn blind eyes … with constancy.
Popular unrest in Hong Kong, a restive lull in the Ukraine and open hostilities
in Iraq and Syria aren’t enough to open eyes … widely.
The lesson of Japan’s Mount Ontake volcano: catastrophic change is, potentially,
near. Please … heed my plea; abnegate nationality … to exalt humanity. 
By Miguel Vera from Puerto Rico

@chachomanopapa on Twitter

Annual – Promote Yourself


Flame leaves lick the sky,
the sun sinks sooner each day,
your delayed germination,
petals gone in the breeze,
just days left to blooming,
and I forgot to water you.

I hope you enjoy my work! I am called Hayli May, and I enjoy life in Michigan’s breathtaking upper peninsula. Comment with your blog if you write short poems, because I’d love to check yours out!

Lightning Strikes – Promote Yourself


Livid vivid colours stretch
And retch
Crashed and splashed
Upturned volcano

Then lulled
Downed and drowned
Phenergan phenomena
Pretence parading
Patiently pacing

Passionate crash
And back again

A rumble
Gradually away

Cheryl Bhagwandin

Is forever too much? – Promote Yourself


I lay on my back.

Witness to the eternal marriage,

between the black velvet Sky,

and his pearl white Moon.

Such harmonious contrast made me jealous,

If the lunar cycle can last forever,

why can’t we?

Hi, my name is Levin Balakrishnan.

Hope you enjoyed my poem! Please do check out my blog:

Forgive the Sinking Ship – Promote Yourself


A misty thirteen
etched by
teased images
of a new blue
windowed seat.
These waters
are doubt’s
turbulent resin.
They scream
within heart
and desire.
I have yet
to set sail,
to navigate
the days
sans the
savvy eye
of your soul.
An absence
a depth
too severe
as the distance
of time
by yearning
to begin again
within gentle
wishful tides.
Nathan Lindsay

Page Turner – Promote Yourself



I awoke

to a visit from the muse


in that one

open moment

I remembered


mine is nothing

but another story

scribbled on the one


blank page.

One Love Always
Jason x

My Mum – At Harvest – Promote Yourself

When I was eight
She decorated the communion table
One side green and lush
Real water running
Down home
The other
With a cow’s white
Bare bone skull
In pride of place…
Our house stank
For weeks
I knew
What brawn was…
cheryl bhagwandin

Honey in the Middle – Promote Yourself

My heart is
a tapestry woven
with turmoil
and love’s
bittersweet foliage.
And yet,
within this
I am drawn
not to the
evergreen solace
of a heart’s
finer truth,
but to
the honeyed
of baser thoughts…
gliding fingertips
the territory
of your skin;
pressed lips…
the weight
of pleasure’s
and centered
by night’s fall.
Nathan Lindsay

Flatlined – Promote Yourself


Walking, talking, but no emotion

Robotic movements fall in line

Waiting, hoping for life to enter in

Watching blindly no thought comes to mind

They were human beings, now only human without a spirit

I cannot help but notice their bodies have flatlined

In need of rejuvenation, someone to tell them it’s not their fault

You have been tricked by the enforcer’s subterfuge

Do not take to heart their lies and deceit

They would have you take on the responsibility and heap

Burdens they pile on, your shoulders cannot bear

“Fake it til you make it” they say, they do not care

Yours is not a burden to bear alone or make pretense about your home

Spiritual death is what they bring, by way of a false patina overlay

Find yourself, be honest and true

Brace yourself; you are your own glue

Hold fast and find comfort in knowing

Yours is a purpose worth digging deep and discovering

Fearful of this, they will try and derail

Your thoughts, your persona, behaviors and all

Be yourself, be real not phony

Admit your faults, work through them for true matrimony

Realize their lies and do not take them on

Connect with others in sincerity and integrity

Earnestness will awaken the deadened soul

To bring to and end disconnect and cold

Dara Reidyr

A PREMONITION – Promote Yourself


See Death…

See its shadow…

Closer…it’s closer…

Coming to me…

To you too…

Even him…

Death whispers…

Saying what?..

What! What!..

Who hears death?..

Who’ll be harbinger?..

You hear death?..

Me, him hear too…

We live pretence…

Death opt for all…

But it’s true…

Are you prepared?..

Death stings anyday…

One by one we’ll go…

Yet not now…

My name is Abegunde Timothy
You can know more about me through my blog:

“Swathed in Gold”. – Promote Yourself

Swathed in Gold
The gentle
high frame
of her cheeks,
swathed in
golden braids.
A dream of
a couple
awakened to
smiles after
long, & lost,
A library
of memories
between them
over the solitude
of a meal
silhouetted by
the heavy,
cool calm of
a morning lake.
The man leans in
for a smile from
his beloved
and whispers
only two
That’s her…
Nathan Lindsay


Vampire – Promote Yourself


Help me
Cry out beneath the dark blanket
Grim voice of peace
Waiting for forgiveness in blood

Hope is a poison
A false tongue
To stain the fingers of idle hands

Labyrinth of form
To map out the void
The black heart of tomorrow
A quiet lie
A friendly hand in mine
Leading me beyond the pale edge of safety
Into the white maze of nothing

Close my eyes
Peaceful night murdered by the inner light
Blind my mind
Please help me
I will live forever
If I never find something to die for

Immortal horror
This hatred is an endless story
Hidden in the brightest lights
No reason to find
No will to fight
Come alive and kill me
Before I am eternal night
Lurking in obliterating empty light

There is nowhere to hide
No way to die
Empty fingers drawing lines
Empty lips are filled with lies
Colour white to justify
Perpetuate the lullaby
To trick the mind to stay inside
To be the lie
To paint and shape the azure sky
To match the cartoon humble pie
Our mothers baked inside our eyes

Paradise is but a picture
A safe reflection of the wild
Truth removed to help us smile
The nature is the beast
Its mean
Thirsty violence
Taught to crave the sweetest meat

The picture is clean
The beauty is easy to see
But the heart doesn’t bleed
When it breaks

The lips never scream
The eyes never see
Eternal lie
Framed for everyone to speak

Help me
I don’t want to break free
I want to stay
And bring it to its knees
Teach a god to see like me

Distractions flash to calm the weak
The truth is stronger than the meek
The ever changing face evokes the curiosity
Of few
So far between
Together we will never be…

How could I have known
I have always died alone…

– John Thursday

‘The Bells Still Ring on Yesteryear’ – Promote Yourself


Call the midwives from the country of your skull
To birth outlines of former incandescent lives.
Let the clouds droop down to graze
On towns taken and pillaged; forgotten and razed.
If the cradle doesn’t rock, it spins
To beat the devil over bottles of wine.
When hungry vines protrude, exert themselves, perchance,
There is little to attribute to in the vein of happenstance.

Here the valleys crumble, then collapse
Into the mouth of hungry seas. If to craft
The peaks of mountains leaves you twiddling your thumbs,
The gears have worn away and are petrified and dumb.
The child sleeps on in silent stupors
To exhibit, come daybreak, in one malignant screech.
When a flower may no longer dream of blooming season,
There is little to convince you that will appeal to reason.

Crown the fjords, flat and slim, as they dot
The eyes of bays fermented, yet which still refuse to cave.
If you will the sky to belt out its preliminary aches,
The rains may mellow worlds divided into catatonic flakes.
Nurse the babe with watercolours, pencils, too,
To quell the mind of terrors, of vice assumed in your likeness.
When the gales have stripped away what’s kept you from your healing,
You’ll feel the thunder of a heart that’s still intent on beating.

Alan Ryland


“Sea Worthy” – Promote Yourself


My entire life

is a string

of memories,

each one sewn


evergreen leaves.

My entire life

is an overture

of melodies

adrift within

an expanse


the universe.

My entire life

spent waiting

for this one

exacting beauty.

My entire life




My entire life

was lost…

until you.

My name is Nathan Lindsay. .

Thank you very much supporting amateurs as myself:



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