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

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Be gentle with your heart child,

kind with you spirit,

breath, live, dream,

You are a lover, a creator,

a trembling fearless soul,

face each dawn bravely.

You are the reckless, the wild,

the freed inner child.

You desire, you speak,

roar in the face of terror,

acknowledge your own error.

Run where the wind takes you,

laugh until you cry,

fall and fall again.

Be bold, be strong, be vibrant but above all,

be gentle with your heart child.

So a little bit about myself: 

Eimear Connolly is a PhD student in microbial genetics who is quietly turning rogue poet. She is the curator of her own small poetry blog http://demonsonaleash.wordpress.com and is an active member of the WordPress community. She also has a Facebook page so that she can fill the timelines of her friends with her poetry. https://www.facebook.com/demonsonaleash?ref=hl.

 She lives in Ireland with her partner. 

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.

https://walttriznastories.wordpress.com/

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