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Coffee – Promote Yourself


Black or black,
Has a world of its own
I peep
Into the crema
I dive into my open ocean
I sniff
At the cup
I embark on my own boat 
I sip
I sail back and forth
I lean 
Against the backrest
I know this moment is the best
I start
A first draft
I feel a creativity waft
© Chaouki M’kaddem
September 16th, 2014

Senior EFL teacher

Seething Rage


I reach

I touch you,

soft skin delight.

I cannot imagine otherwise.

I want to watch you and cherish you,

love your smile, reactive and giddy.

I imagine a world in your eyes,

and realize only,

you need

my love.

Why rage?

how do we defend

the actions of reactive passion

beyond the scope, a child

with pleading eyes

wonders how now,

why this?

Falling timber

solid in a careen

tramples the brush

only to leave scars in soil

the natural course of small earth.

A tree doesn’t compare

line up or speak

to the soft flesh

in a switch of


We cannot judge, we may silently grieve,

yet in the moment, we do know our rage.


©Thom Amundsen 2014

Broken Heart – Promote Yourself


Lying all crooked on the floor
my heart broken to the core
bleeding through day and moonlight
after losing the fight..

My love lost in the battle
leaving the hidden emotions to rattle
All now flowing down my face
my tears competing in the race..

Never felt so weak and lost
sudden rescue from the frost
bitter sweet memories playing hide and seek
stabbing pain is making me weak

Remorse and regret flows through my veins
to my heart and to the rain
of the tears and off to the ground
falling silently not causing any sound..

Lonely and abandoned I am
not by you but by love..yet all are same;
No difference no change no improvement,
Reflecting your love which you never meant..

Time travelling through the past with nothing to gain,
just crying and suffering with the pain.
Soon everything will be over
except if you make it slower..

For my soul to be free
your venomous words are enough,even you may agree
Once said cannot be taken back,
its not like a jar taken from rack..

Now,that I am alone
I can see that my eyes never shone
with the shine same as before
after you showed my love the exit door..
And crashed my heart to the floor!

Here is a poem written by me, after someone broke my heart….


The month of September

Is the month I remember

Of the honeysuckle aroma so sweet

Farmers harvesting their wheat,

The month of September

Is the month I remember

When shorter days are to come

Darkness starves the early morning sun,

We pluck the apples from the trees

We prepare for our Xmas cider feast,

The month of September

Is the month I remember

No perspiration falling now

No hot sun,hitting our brow,

I glance at the beautiful landscape

It is one that God could only create

Gillian Sims

Perfection – Promote Yourself


No one understands my true feelings;

I am too perfect to show them.

Living day by day in search of a way

to ease my mind,

hoping things will get better over time.


I’ve changed so much over the years,

rain couldn’t begin to catch up my tears.

I’m living in a world of judgment

because no one really takes time to find out

about the subject Me.

Putting makeup on my face,

hoping the pain and heartache will soon erase.

Hair in tack, always neat,

even when just walking down the street.

I can’t be too big.

I can’t be too small.

I just want to get away from it all.

No one understands my true feelings;

I am too perfect to show them.

Alanah Frilot

Blue Harvest Moon







Comes silently
on sorrel moccasins

roosted on tortoiseshell
of root cellar

singing, stumbling
in numb imaginings

lit with half-light
squeezed in jars
of russet and avocado

a cornice of sky
split with laughter
for broken arrowheads
gold and silver among leaves

air billowed white
from lips
soft frail bones
of snowflakes
magically appear
scattering in breath
taken away
into apple night


The Seasons


The seasons come the seasons go

The summer green changes to the Autumn glow

The trees shed their leaves,the flowers fade and die

The grey clouds gather in the sky

The daylight hours shorten day by day

A sign that winter is on it’s way

The birds no longer can be seen

They’ve gone away to pastures green

The mists and fogs come in November

Ice and snow often greet December

The country is held in icy grip

As we walk about we slide and slip

The snow soon melt and disappear

Then the first snowdrops appear

The spring sunshine and April rain

Brings the flowers and trees to life again

The birds return to build there nest

And we see nature at it’s best

The summer day’s are here at last

But very quickly they will go past

A carpet of leaves are at our feet

The cycles of seasons are now complete

Ron Martin

The last puff – Promote Yourself


I smoked away my pain
I smoked away my memories
I smoked away my dreams
I smoked away my blithe
I smoked away my pensive moods
I smoked away my thoughts
I smoked away my friends
I smoked away my relationships
I smoked away my emotions
I smoked away my breaths
I smoked away my life
As I smoked away my last puff

Sanskriti dixit

Well.. Who knew I wrote again. Can’t get it out of my system


Harvest Thanksgiving – traditional & contemporary liturgy

Bruegal Harvest

Harvest is a great season for the Christian, because within is so much meaning beyond the usual bunches of grapes and flowers that decorate our churches, as God looks to our harvest – how fruitful are you as a Christian?!

According to that fount of all knowledge – Harvest is from the Anglo-Saxon word hærfest, “Autumn”. It then came to refer to the season for reaping and gathering grain and other grown products. The full moon nearest the autumnal equinox is called the Harvest Moon. So in ancient traditions Harvest Festivals were traditionally held on or near the Sunday of the Harvest Moon. This moon is the full moon which falls in the month of September.

An early Harvest Festival used to be celebrated at the beginning of the Harvest season on 1 August and was called Lammas, meaning ‘loaf Mass’. Farmers made loaves of bread from the fresh wheat crop. These were given to the local church as the Communion bread during a special service thanking God for the harvest.

The modern British tradition of celebrating Harvest Festival in churches began in 1843, when the Reverend Robert Hawker invited parishioners to a special thanksgiving service at his church at Morwenstow in Cornwall. Victorian hymns such as “We plough the fields and scatter”, “Come ye thankful people, come” and “All things bright and beautiful” helped popularise his idea of harvest festival and spread the annual custom of decorating churches with home-grown produce for the Harvest Festival service.

Two liturgies for Harvest

1) A More Traditional Liturgy

Leader: The heavens declare the glory of God
All: The skies display the work of his hands

God of light and God of night
Creator of seed and mountain
raindrop and fountain
We bring our offering of praise.
God of right and God of might
Lover of child and childless
rich and homeless
We bring our offering of praise.

Leader: Do you not know? Have you not heard?
All: The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth(Isaiah 40:28)

‘As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease.’ (Gen 8:22)

By faith
I gaze up to the heavens
and know
within its vastness
that this is your creation
planned and effected within eternity

By faith
I pluck an ear of corn
and know
within its symmetry
lies the chemistry of life
the potential of creation within my hand

By faith
I listen for your voice
and know
the whisper that I hear
breathed a world into existence
yet listens to the prayer within my soul

By faith
I strive to do your will
and know
the door that I approach
may lead me to shadows
where my roll is to become your light

By faith
I cling to your word
and know
the strength that I receive
has it’s source within the love
that is at the centre of all things

Leader: Listen to these words from Christina Rossetti ((1830-1894)) and think about them for a moment,

‘Lord, purge our eyes to see
within the seed a tree,
Within the glowing egg a bird,
Within the shroud a butterfly,
Til, taught by such, we see
beyond all creatures, thee.’

Leader: For the beauty of a country scene
All: We praise you Lord for sight
Leader: For the coolness of a mountain stream
All: We praise you Lord for touch
Leader: For nightingale in tuneful flow
All: We praise you Lord for ears
Leader: For the taste of fruit that we have grown
All: We praise you Lord for senses

Creator God, for daily bread
and all who work
to bring your harvest home
we bring our thanks today.


Forgive our ingratitude
we who have so much
yet waste what you have given.


For those whose harvest is poor,
whose crops have withered,
water tainted, children starve,
help those who bring relief
and bestow on us
an unaccustomed generosity,
that all might share from your garden
and all might sing your praise.


Creator God, provider of all
we bring our thanks today.
And we bless each other
that the beauty of this world
and the love that created it
might be expressed though our lives
and be a blessing to others
now and always


2) A More Contemporary Liturgy

Small Beginnings

“Things great have small beginnings. Every downpour is just a raindrop; every fire is just a spark; every harvest is just a seed; every journey is just a step because without that step there will be no journey; without that raindrop there can be no shower; without that seed there can be no harvest.”
William Wilberforce

In the beginning there was nothing, and out of nothing you fashioned a universe so vast, so unimaginable that we can only sigh with amazement when we stare upwards on a star-lit night. And within this universe you positioned the earth and populated it, provided for it and designed for it to be a place of beauty.
Creator God: Thank you

In the beginning there was just potential; the seed within the packet, soil’s nutrients, sunshine’s warmth, rain clouds gathering. And within the tiny seed all that is our daily bread encoded, primed and ready should it be planted and allowed to grow.
Creator God: Thank you

Genesis 2: 8 Now the LORD God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed. 9 And the LORD God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground—trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food. In the middle of the garden were the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

In the beginning there was humankind, placed within your garden, made steward, gardener and caretaker of this place of beauty, given responsibilities and the capacity to enjoy. And yet among the seeds we have sown have been weeds and crops of our own choosing, which have not shown fruit or have spread and choked the earth.
Creator God: Forgive us

Myung Lee reminds us of an old Korean proverb. “If you plant a bean, then you will harvest only beans, not grapes or strawberries.” God gave us new life through Jesus Christ and planted special seeds of forgiveness and love in our hearts. What fruit will we bear in our daily lives?” 

A moment of quiet, time to listen, time to be still with God – what does he say to you this harvest time?


God of harvest,
gardener supreme
you place us at the centre
feed us, equip us and
having provided for us
look to a different harvest
a fruitfulness of lives
in service to you
and others.
God of harvest,
feed us
prune us
harvest us
that our lives
might bring glory to you.


Autumns symphonies – Your Favourite Poem

yearning for sevdah*
(for lesya)

<> -Albert Camus

yearning for sevdah when

before there were roses and pomegranates
is sevdah is there is where is sita is

not then yearning for sevdah

rare lovers meeting finding unbroken harts
snowflakes melting sweet wilting fruit blossoms
is rama is where is there is sevdah is

not when yearning for sevdah

true lovers falling weaving love’s tapestry
transcending sorrows inside fermenting plums
worms emerging spreading lucent dragon wings
refining liquid gold into worlds of glory
is sevdah is there is where is is mira

not then yearning for sevdah

when true sailing beloveds unraveling kiss
as uncertainty completes certainty so
tragedy quickens comedy as all is
cupidity transfiguring chastity so
lovers probing discover love creating
is sita is where is there is is rama

when not yearning for sevdah

sevdah as lust is sevdah as sorrow is
sevdah as bliss is sevdah as nothing but
lust finitely quickening infinitely love as is
the beloved seeking lovers as all sevhad
is rama is there is where is sita is

then not yearning for sevdah

all creatures probing those quickening our musk
true love kissing pure love endlessly while
amidst stardust orchards become deserts so
is mira is here is what is mira is

now all is yearning for sevdah

is sevdah is here is what is sevdah is
crystal tears baptizing fermenting vineyards
rama’s arrow piercing brahman’s hart of harts

then yearning for sevdah is

after there were roses and pomegranates
remains what is here is love is sevdah is
sevdah yearning for yearning sevdah is love

not nothing if not krishna beneath phoenix wings
mere lust tantalizing unrequitable love

even gods cannot articulate sevdah


chrteién marc valentin





If i wanted to be a lion and hang as tall as a tree i could, but that would be irrelevant can’t you see
I am a man, a wo-MAN, a fe-MALE so that would make us one … am i right?
I may not be a girl i may not be a boy i may just be a being living in a world
What is creativity if you look inside and see its understanding your subconscious self and questioning your reality
If we are made in God’s image and all Religions say God is creator then we are also creators, projecting our inner light called “creativity”
We can’t all be painters the world would be ugly! But we can all be creative and express ourselves individually
One colour on a pallet will make the plain paper look dry, but many colours on the paper will create a story of why?
Not wanting to be yourself will erase your story, paintings and more colours will manifest your glory
Beauty is individuality so express it and be proud even if others don’t like it at least you stand out from the crowd





I was shocked, confused, bewildered
as I entered Heaven’s door,
Not by the beauty of it all,
by the lights or its decor.

But it was the folks in Heaven
who made me sputter and gasp–
the thieves, the liars, the sinners,
the alcoholics, the trash.

There stood the kid from seventh grade
who swiped my lunch money twice.
Next to him was my old neighbor
who never said anything nice.

Herb, who I always thought
was rotting away in hell,
was sitting pretty on cloud nine,
looking incredibly well.

I nudged Jesus, “What’s the deal?
I would love to hear Your take.
How’d all these sinners get up here?
God must’ve made a mistake.

And why’s everyone so quiet,
so somber? Give me a clue.”
“Hush, child,” said He “They’re all in shock.
No one thought they’d see you.”

Judge NOT.

Author Unknown
(Though possibly written by either the worst sinner or 
the most thankful person in heaven, or both!)


Stand and Deliver – Promote Yourself


Stand and deliver
Your money
Or your life
Why did I
It was wife?
Why did I
As wife
I’d go
More than money
More than
More than
I had
Than I
Could ever
That it was
That I
Had to

And do what?

Stand and deliver
Your money
Or your life
I’ll deliver
My life
On a plate
On a stage
I’ll shout
I’ll demand
I’ll laugh
And I’ll cry
And I’ll show
All those
Who look
I can sing
I can dance
I can look with new eyes
See colour
And beauty
The leaves on the trees
The sun
Through the bandstand
Glinting and gleaming
The air
Full of promise
Death and destruction
Leads to life
In more fullness
I’ll stand
And deliver
My life

Cheryl Bhagwandin

Poetry “Interacting with Freedom” – Promote Yourself


Today we stop replaying us as victims, utilizing our sixth sense
begging God for a second awakening recorded beyond
mans manipulative systems of habit that constantly distract
fate from sudden rhythm and flesh attaching

We’ll never stop looking for ourselves
I swear to always imagine

The dreamer may forget which direction alternative feelings are captured for
all She’s worth, finally tangible
the risks insured

Tired of runnin
entirely focused on attracting and splitting whatever I have before
my body tosses wildly without my soul refurbished

A grave face granted childhood insight on such an occasion mildly

Not in total control of whats happening

Choosing sacrifice, my every affair aligned through the real master miraculously,
afterwards I’m shown signs of tremendous growth in a world where love has
no will but to be life, often times mishandled casually

Suppressed me’s swept away like crystalline grains in clairvoyant mysteries,
enveloped with a quaint welcoming within this heart which fiends for peace
vehemently, at least then everything once planned sounds familiar
as She is an acquired taste recommended

Resilience is replaced with rejoicing over pressing escape as intended

We live prefixed
Be”ing” creation, there’s something simply divine about this

And “it is”, whosoever wants to develop a harmonic calm again may rest assured
the universes are too orchestrated in respect to what you’re due

Such an infinite audience, and everyone is you

Been waiting so damn long for this, mixed and looped in this

tried and true process accruing a name and debt, paying it all off as we undergo planetary
shifts revealing just how prosperous a positive vibe “thought” exists

Perhaps we weren’t taught to forever become amazing as the prophets did

But it is so, we must live from the inside out and prey on beautiful opportunities
2 manifest abundantly, taking us
6 levels above excited angels
who knew we were

Darius Mccullum
written by @InnerGLord
visuals by @brgndybrd


The words we use can be very important
Often more important than any of our deeds
For although our actions can be very impressive
Sometimes it is words our family or country really needs
Think of the words of Prime Minister Winston Churchill
Whose speeches inspired England
during the Second World War?
At that time we needed a hope for the future
They made us realise we had something worth fighting for
Remember the words of the Admiral Viscount Nelson
As he led his fleet to fight the French upon the sea
That England expected that every man would do his duty
Their response to this call ensured our victory
The words of famous writers often come into our mind
We often use them to emphasise a point of view
They often reflect the writers view on morality
These words can be instructive to me and you
The miracles showed that Jesus had the power
But it is his words that have echoed down the years
To sustain believers in their darkest hours
And a help in allaying their doubts and fears
The final words spoken by Jesus are often quoted
When He promised to be with us to the end
Believers down the years have found comfort in these words
For they know that it is a promise on which they can depend
Ron Martin

Poems for Friday the 13th



Friday the 13th
By Adele Swift

Oooh! Aaaah!
Stay home
Little frightened ones!
Today is Friday the 13th!
You know what that means!
Bad luck
Because you feel guilty
For all the things
You’ve done to hurt people
For which you’ve
Yet to be caught.

By Brenda Braene

I find a penny
I pick it up
I give it to my sister
So she has good luck.

I skip the cracks
No broken backs
I knock on wood
To keep it good.

I cross my fingers
So good luck lingers.
I laugh and play
To save the day.

The 13th of Friday
By Cassandra Oleander

Frost on the glass
Creates patterns that blast
Away fears from the day.

Peeking through Jack Frost’s
Gifts given in the night
Seeing land so clean and bright.

It’s quiet because people
Move carefully, clearly
Fearing a misstep.

Their fear makes them polite.
Superstition takes them to
New heights.

Mirrors and Walls – Promote Yourself

If walls could talk
The stories they’d tell
If a mirror could talk
Would it tell?
Or reflect
Or show
Or present
Or give us
To reflect
To show
To present
To think

Not self absorbed
Sucking in
Taking on
Layers of paint
And paper
And plaster
And stripped down to
Start again

But reflecting back

What do we want
The truth
Or presentation?
Showing us
What we show

What do we want
The truth?

from fear?
Or merely

Cheryl Bhagwandin

Awakened – Promote Yourself


she tastes salt on her lips
and wonders if it is from the tears
in her eyes or the lathering waves

crashing upon eroding rocks
she gazes with white eyes
towards the blurring horizon

the sea has no branch
that’s what she’d been taught
and there was nothing to save

a drowning soul, nothing except
the lightening flash within
to awaken her from her slumber

as dusk comes to meet her
she catches her breath
begins fighting for her life

awake! awake! awake!

the wind stings like needles
and the thunder growls a warning
but her tears have dried

in lines like desiccated coconut
on the curved highway of her cheeks
she was awake
and it was time to return home.

  © Shery Alexander Heinis


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