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Monthly Archives: February 2015

I am Not Spock – Promote Yourself

I am not Spock
But I was,
Between 11 and 12.
I was a Vulcan
Ruled by Logic
Disdainful of the soft, mere humans
Who surrounded me.
Who had invaded my planet
Polluting my atmosphere with emotions,
With indomitable desires,
With their fear and their envy
And their illogical conclusions.
Igor Goldkind

“Be Gentle” – Promote Yourself

  • gent

RESTORATIONS – Promote Yourself


The ground trembled and moaned

like some mighty giant stirring from sleep,

like some force gone unnoticed wanting to be known,

And Naples crumbled,

And men died, and women died,

and children would never grow old.

Even dead Pompeii died, died even more that day.

And the earth was changed, and people were changed.

Workmen hurried to rebuild Pompeii

working hard to restore its timeless death.

And people groped in rain filled darkness

trying hard to rebuild shattered life.

And small towns, villages rival Pompeii in their death,

And death is more easily restored than life.

Walt Trizna

Here is a poem I wrote after an Italian earthquake some time ago.

Scorching Hot


By midday the sun’s scorching might
Penetrates the hapless
Tiniest worth of life in sight
Sustaining nonetheless

A desire for the shaded
Those hydrated places
Where of a thirst you can be rid
Noon time treasured spaces

Under the shaded umbrella
Of the side walk seller
The ices are from that fella
Just right for the weather

Mini skirts and strapless dresses
And bared and sandaled legs
Test of sunny paradoxes
Present day traits which begs

Of whimsy and discerning ease
A daring compromise
Hot colorist browning the leaves
Till they fall in demise

To a comforting ready earth
Willing to nourish life
Under a discerning sun’s worth
Of torrid heated strife

Hot hot hot penetrating rays
Slice season and cycle
The shadow and fraction of days
Measured in mere degrees
Gillena Cox

Broken bred – Promote Yourself


“Looking for a rose” – Promote Yourself

rose rose

Life’s will – The Writing Challenge


Dance of The Winter Solstice


Chilled air breaches my lungs.
The ground’s dead leaves lie under the frost.
Raindrops freeze before falling to the earth,
The frozen tears of the sky,
Each a unique and irreplaceable gem.

Strong cold winds make branches begin to shiver.
Old tattered gloves lay in the snow, discarded.
The divine moonlight reflects on each pristine snowflakes.
A Winter Solstice light show.

The cold turns my breath into frosty clouds.
My ears slip into numbness.
My lips begin to quiver.
I didn’t care,
The night was so peaceful.

Snowflakes danced down to the earth,
Twirling to show of their unique patterns.
Trying desperately to be remembered,
Before melting away.
I will remember you.
The dazzling confetti from the sky.
Frosted tears of a higher being.
Jack Frost’s own miraculous dancers.

Twirling, Falling, Gliding, Spinning.
It’s the dance of the Winter Solstice.
Your first and longest performance of the year.
And it’s your time to shine.

The winter sky will be your stage.
People, animals and trees your audience.
So, go on.

Dyllan Brown – Bramble


more at:

ROSES – Promote Yourself

Forget me not. – Promote Yourself

tempests pass-promote yourself


“Healed With One Regret” – Promote Yourself



Gone – Promote Yourself


White Horse Street W1J – Promote Yourself

london west

​And again
Chest pounding
Breath ragged
Exhaled steam vanishes
Into sodium lit fog
Inhaling freezing acid
Leaden thighs pumping
Grazing the sides
Clutching at rusty window grills
Bloodied elbows
Leave macabre trail
Tangled legs spinning on
Bouncing off familiar strangers
Chaser and chasee both
Historic ghosts behind
Imagined roads ahead
Streaming eyes
Obscure visions real
And fabricated
Andy (CynicYorksman), from the UK.


Are you a person who believes in superstitions,
Or one who believes every “old wives” tales you hear,
If you do you are not a very rational thinker,
Which could cause you many moments filled with fear.
Superstitions has been defined as a false worship or religion,
An ignorant and irrational belief in a supernatural agency,
A general belief which is deep rooted but unfounded,
Silly ideas which have no relevance to you or me.
They say it is lucky if a black cat crosses your path,
How this could be is rather puzzling to me,
If it runs in front of you whilst driving it can’t be lucky,
If in swerving to miss it you crash into a tree.
How many people do you know who touch wood hoping for success,
As though this action could affect the outcome in anyway,
And those people who believe you will wash your luck away,
If you hang you washing out on New Years Day.
Others believe it is unlucky to have a picture of a bird in the house,
This sounds like a load of hogwash to me,
For if there was any truth in this superstition,
It would be unlucky to have a robin on the Christmas Tree.
If a crow lands on the chimney it is a portent,
That someone living in the houses is about to die,
If this was true the number of deaths would be enormous,
Since this rarely happens it is obvious the saying is a lie.
In the western world the number thirteen is said to be unlucky,
In eastern cultures the belief is that the unlucky number is four,
There is no fourth floor in any hospital in China or Japan ,
In Paris there is no house with number thirteen on the door.
In Canary Wharf there is a floor twelve and a floor fourteen,
There is no other numbered floor in between,
Knowing that many people are superstitious,
The builders were concerned about using the number thirteen.
Then again some folk say that disasters always come in threes,
If two misfortunes occur there is bound to be a third,
Whilst it might be true that this sometimes happens,
To believe that it will always happen is totally absurd.
I would certainly never walk under a ladder,
Not because it is unlucky, but because it is good advice,
You never know what might fall upon you,
After all a tin of paint wouldn’t be very nice.
I believe that the word luck has a pagan origin,
That our luck is not influenced by any superstitious thing we might do,
Until I get the proof that these sayings are realistic,

I will continue  to ignore them, and I hope you will do so too

Ron Martin

Purple Roses-promote yourself

“Jaded Windows”: – Promote Yourself



Imagination – Promote Yourself



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