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Give It Wings and Let It Fly Away – GoodReads Winner

Congratulations to Alice B from O’Brien FL who has won a copy of Ken Maxon‘s book “Give It Wings And Let It Fly Away“. Your autographed copy will be out to you soon.

Give it wings

GoodReads Giveaway – Give It Wings And Let It Fly Away

Coming March 1st on Goodreads!

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Give It Wings and Let It Fly Away by Ken Maxon

Give It Wings and Let It Fly Away

by Ken Maxon

Giveaway ends March 07, 2015.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

Shorts by Yuri Borisov

Poems Without Rhyme by Yuri Borisov

Собака в луже красных мыслей
На снеге жизненным ошметком –
Агонизирующий узор
У остановки в пустоту.
И боль ее, и ожидание
Сквозь влитый в чрево ветер снов
Разлиты на снегу рекою,
Невысыхающей от слез…
Под красным небом шерстью жесткой
Скрывает сломанное тело
В местах, где боль и понимание
Срослись невидимым пределом.
В местах, где страх ребром сквозь кожу
Наружу выступил неслышно;
Неслышно светоч жизни этот
Потух, затих, погас, ушел…

…На морде капли ртутной крови,
В глазах чужие стекла слез,
В движеньи лап, почти затихшем,
Познанье, что ее забыли…Все…
Собака в черной луже злобы
Лежит в снегу, кусая лапы,
Смыкает челюсти в надежде..убить…
Всех тех, кто крыши кроет смрадом,
Всех тех, кто жизнь ведет как поезд:
По рельсам, тихо, с остановкой,
В теченье суток – чай в плацкарту…
Всех тех, кто мимо, вдоль и…мимо,
По снегу, крови и земле несет чужое лицемерье,
Махая стягом… В бок ботинок:
“Еще жива?”..Еще раз в бок…”Да брось ее ты!.”..

…Вот почти что утро, и детство-свет несется в школы,
Театры, цирки, зоопарки, вкушая истинную глупость…
И состраданье чье-то тихо, зажатое
Меж душных комнат современных, проснется…
Касаясь плоти, хладной, мертвой, вопрос возникнет..
И сознанье…И страх пройдет…И оживет
Давно увядшее страданье…за ЖИВЫХ…за тех, что рядом…

И снова смех, и чей-то голос,
И чей-то взор ныряет в спину.
Мы, как собаки на снегу,
Вскрываем шеи теплой кровью,
Клыками рвем чужие морды,
Надеясь обрести тепло от умирающего тела…
В глазах река непониманья,
Что белый снег давно уж грязен,
И устремляем взгляд на землю,
Когда за тучей скрылось солнце…
….Вокруг темно, народу мало,
Спокойно, тихо, грациозно,
Я снег слизнул с земли холодной
И вкусом крови насладился,
Что лужей тянется из глотки,
Разорванной беззвучным криком…
Все так спокойно и прекрасно,
Я тихо угасаю в луже,
Что цвета красного как небо,
С вопросом: “Может Я кому-то нужен?”……..

Seasons by Diana Jeane

In bringing you various talent, I would like to present Diana Jeane.

Diana lives in Ohio and has been writing poetry for many years.


Listening to the wind, hearing sounds whirling all around
Watching the leaves spinning and twirling dancing to the whisper of the wind
Feeling the coolness of the changes that are about to come.

Seasons come and go, some quietly unnoticed until you feel the change in the air.
Some with great introduction, with a blast of cold air.
Enmeshed in all the many changes that life has brought,
Knowing that some things will only last for a time, then will pass like the wind.

Experiencing every moment, cherishing times and places, people and faces,
Voices and tears, laughter and pleasure, all things we hold dear.
Life holds for us many seasons, many that seem similar, but oh so different as they pass us by.
Capturing those moments, the phrases, the looks, the touches, the kind gestures that makes life tolerable.

Those are the things we pull from each season that envelope us that encircles us.
One cannot plan, nor can one know what to expect,
But you can be sure that out of each season there will be moments we will hold dear like precious stones in a soft red velvety bag, with shiny golden drawstrings pulled tightly.

Shadows by Jen P

From time to time I come across people that are very talented, whether they are a fellow writer, artist, singer or poet.

It is not always easy being in the arts. Anyone who is a writer, singer or poet will tell you that lyrics, sentences, themes, scenes, are not just something that happens by the wave of a hand and using Jedi/Sith mind tricks. Writing, takes talent and inspiration.

Recently I had the pleasure of meeting Jen P, who is in Gisborne, New Zealand. Jen is known as “The Gisborne Poet“. Jen is currently doing a Photobook with poems attached, which is titled “Through the eyes of a poet“.

Jen had a moment to read The Chosen – Chapter 5 excerpt, and she was left with such an impression about the book, that she wrote a poem about it.

This is a wonderful poem, that I just had to share this with you all.

SHADOWS by “The Gisborne Poet

Shadows dance to and fro
Darkness doesn’t want to let you go
This fight is between dark and light
But still you can’t see what hides in the night
You never see a face coming your way
It never lets you see the light of day
The power when you hit the wall
Your not given a chance to call
You feel the bones start to break
You know an innocent life is at stake
Darkness covers us as we cry
Shadows are there for you and I
Please ,please, let him go
You say it with every blow
Shadows hide what we can’t see
Now that person’s spirit is free
Shadows don’t give you a choice
As all that is left is one small voice
Hidden from view
Is a person I never knew

© Written by The Gisborne Poet
Jennifer P

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