RSS Feed

Daily Archives: October 11, 2014

The Dance of the Mad Poet -Promote Yourself


All around me sheer nonsense
Blunt stupidity
The cows they lack reason
Slaved alacrity.

The hours they pass
And no action is taken
The herds marches onward
Their ease is unshaken.

Laugh, if you will
At the cruel abomination
Smirk, to endure
Life’s long desecration.

Cry, if you can
To mourn the great loss
Wail, to show measure
For the lives of great cost.

Do nothing and confirm
Your lost human self
Entranced by the spectacle
Of an orgy of wealth.

But I, being mad,
I instead will go dance
On the towers that shimmer
Smearing mud at my chance.

For the glimmer and shimmer
Of opulent spires
Says nothing of value
Just employment and fires.

So I’ll kick up the muck
The dirt and the dust
I’ll besmirch all the splendor
That ensnares human lust.

But is it right to save them?
These cattle and sheep?
To tear down the cages
And wake them from sleep?

For stupidity is not
A burden all just endure
It can be requested and granted
Even seen as a cure.

For these cows applaud fools
These sheep follow thieves,
And the herd, it goes on
And happily believes.

But if I, knowing all this
Do nothing to make change
Am I not simply another
Mindless beast on the range?

So my dance will go on
As a dance of the word
And may awareness soon come
For those who have heard.

Metaphor, allegory
Allusions to the past
These are steps to the movement
Though the rhythm seems fast.

Whether you’ll join me or watch
This mad dance will go on
Tireless through evening
Awaiting signs of the dawn.

Armando Chapelliquen

My name is Armando Chapelliquen . I’m from Astoria, NY and am looking to share my poetry with a larger audience through my blog,

Life is sweet. – Promote Yourself



Life is sweet.
Life is bliss.
Life is the way you see it.

Apprehensive then do what you must.

Life is good.
Life is great.
Life is what you make of it.

At  crossroads ,this too shall pass.Make a move.

Life will be better.
Life  will be awesome.
Life; live your best life now.

MY DAUGHTERS ]. – Promote Yourself

                 ~                                                              mick   

Daughters are the youth I see myself in, I want them to look pretty but not as thin.    I see them in cloathes that I wish I could wear, am I getting old or am I square.          –                                                                    As my girls smile with the twinkling of there eyes, with such inacence that’s no surprise.                                                        Year by year I watch them grow, with such wonder from head to toe.                      As they grow older the babies are gone, they have become adults with there own song.                                                              ~                                                                  Now my girls have grown, young ladies at last, they both had kids I’m granma to the last.                                                        ( WordPress.patricia bourne 2014 )

There is a gentle roar of crickets – Promote Yourself


There is a gentle roar of crickets

singing from the mountains

that enclose these old,

broken stones.

The smell of incense,

lingering with

the shadowed face

of Siddhartha upon the altar.

Shades of gold,

Pillars of stone

and broad, wooden doors

with the rain beginning to pour.

Words never come,

yet we sit as one

and quietly sip our tea,

with each droplet of rain landing upon my face

so blissfully.

(written as a stream of consciousness at a temple in Vietnam)


oli ferenth

check out the rest of my writing at

Heretic – Promote Yourself


And my body is a torn-down temple,

withering again, again

like it did a long time ago

alongside daisies and sweet peas.


And my body is a vineyard:

little foxes come to steal the pearls.

They tug at unripe fruit and

clothe themselves with the scepters of kings.


And my body is a thought,

so he rolls me around with his

tongue, to test the taste of me.

I cannot be dismissed.


With this body I am conquered and unconquerable.

With this body I go outside to greet the day.


With this body I think to myself,

Nothing is as beautiful as the

coo of a morning dove.

I meet them on dewy ventures into crisp mornings,

when the air tears in my hands like dreams.

-Theodora Zheng

 You run a very helpful writer/author/poet community, 
-Hello! Thank you for reading my poem. I am a Texas-based poet, essayist, student, and etc., who blogs daily at
 You run a very helpful writer/author/poet community, 
%d bloggers like this: