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Daily Archives: October 24, 2014

Here is Uselessness – Promote Yourself


Life is a short and perilous journey, filled with so many ups and downs.  This poem is about taking the down times and hopefully bettering others through their example of uselessness…… They were definitely used,  but noone would purchase a one of them, even off the clearance rack if they were for sale. 


 I’m theebloominid, D. Arthur Wargo.   Retired State Trooper, writing from a Christian perspective…….. Living just north of Pittsburgh, PA.

David Wargo

Look at the Anger – Promote Yourself

Look at the anger
It was so
Boiled hard
Gall stone
Blood stone
Head stone

Not knowing it existed
Or hurt

I read back
And wondered
How scared I had been

And now..

am relieved..

I float in amazement
Can hardly reveal
What I meant
What I felt
A dream and unreal

That what was inside me
Screwed up and
Re lent
And re lent
And re lent
Nothing at all
Black hole space
Angry and full
But no satiation
Relentlessly full.

But now face it gently
In a numb kind of shock
A dizzy tin-nitus
A modern dilemma
For once
And for all
I let it go gently
Gently let go
It’s over and done with.

For now.

Cheryl Bhagwandin

Bypass it – Promote Yourself

The boy hits another boy because he is different.
The man phones his wife from a bar and tells her
he will be half an hour late home from work.
The wife rolls over the bed and tells
her lover they have an extra half an hour.
The teacher films his students in the changing rooms
and uploads the footage to the internet.
The bank manager attends a meeting with his
superiors and is informed he needs to lay
off some employees to save money.
The supermarket assistant sells a rifle to a
The policeman radios headquarters
and informs them of a triple murder.
The Prime Minister phones his Minister of Defence
and orders bombing raids for national security.
The pilot radios in and confirms he has successfully
hit his targets.
The news reporter announces seven children were
killed in last nights raids.
The astronaut radios Huston to tell them
about large strange objects hovering near their station.
The strange objects look over
the world with confusion, and transmit
a message to the other strange objects
about bypassing the human
Anthony Keers
My name is Anthony Keers and I live in the city of Manchester, England. Although writing has been a hobby since an early age, I haven’t been able to partake in creating writing for a while due to exams and high education. However, I do like to manage my short story and poetry blog called ‘Urban Life’, which can be found here:

Fear – Promote Yourself

I sit alone
in a place undiscovered
where the depths of my heart
have yet to be released.
I am bound by fear:
fear of failure
fear of becoming someone I am not
fear that I cannot fulfill the task.
Yet You still cry out to me from the depths of my soul:
“Love Me,
Serve Me,
Follow Me,
Trust Me
for My perfect love casts out all fear.”
How do I forget Your love?
I underestimate its power
as it wraps around every sin
and squeezes it out of my life.
I forget that Your love then pours
healing waters over my wounds,
restoring me from
Father, help me to discover myself
by knowing Your love,
and more importantly,
 by giving it.
Lauren Heiligenthal

“Monroe Has Nothing On You…” – Promote Yourself

Ponytail, bobby socks,
and high dungarees,
augmenting suggestive curves
gliding through
grocery aisles on
a lewd Saturday evening.
A persevering
casual air splitting
the seams before you.
Heel-toe express
carried by
black loafers
accentuating your dense,
deep black hoodie.
A near perfect scene
swimming along
with frozen fish
with purposely static
calculating brow.
The checkout stand
became a hero’s
center stage
saving you from
a round trip ticket.
Enduringly stunning
in every market…
I still stare. 
Thank you very much posting my writing on your blog. It’s helped quite a bit with my self-confidence and doubt in my abilities.

Nathan Lindsay

I gave us to The Collector – Promote Yourself


The Collector comes knocking 

rustling through bin bags for time, 

memories and broken promises

and I hide us in defiance

locking the doors, stopping Him 

from sensing what we are

(what we have broken) 

like a child, I hide the rubbish treasures

of glued-back promises, wrap the careless hurt between my sheets

(but darling, the cracks never do go away) 

and I have grasped these broke pieces so tightly 

the jagged edges of uncaring words and shattered hopes

have sliced straight up my arm 

so tonight, I succumb to His demands, 

I dig out the saved kisses from my jacket pocket,

and remove the flowers that lined my collarbones 

I put all of us into a bin bag, 

leave the remnants of our love 


and wait with bated breath for His appearance 

I gave us to The Collector, 

our love a sacrifice, turned to ash

darling, we were in ruins 

(now, I fear we are naught)


Nicole Ooi


my wordpress is, I’d rather not leave my name. but I’m a mixed (asian) student who is currently in boarding school in the UK! 🙂 

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