The chosen path

One life to live
One dream to die
in the land of plenty
where all is a lie

try it
conquer society's greatness
all you will find
is you get no reward
for living the lie

The place where dreams still fly

't Is about this
and nothing else
A raindrop down your spine
A clash of light in a firefly.

That part of the world
where dreams still fly
like guineapiggs in the sy
or did they confiscate that too?

Thank you B!

http://www.thinkingthelions.com/2009/08/last-sundays-poem-ever.html

Antisocial by David Blaine

read my review of this astonishing work on Gloom Cupboard

Domination, dominance whatever fits ...

How often does a person have to say this?

I have my own life
you have no say over me
I cannot live my life serving your shadow
Whenever you feel like commanding me.
And I don't exist in function of you
Once in a while I have to say no
And as a friend
you should be able to understand
AND accept that.

My mind wasn't and isn't made
for continual conflict
neither is my body.

Let death be a burden to us all ...
and a salvation to some.

Good friends
as long as one does what they say
Is there still someone out there
that rescpects your freedom of choice?
And actualy realises
the smalness of his own ego
instead of blowing it up
to the present gigantic proportions?
No, I have my own life
You are my friend
But I can't devote my life to driving you around.

One would doubt by times
One really would.

Music
the soother of the soul
when things get rough.

That delightfull lyric
guitarsolo
or tune
rhytm

Give me some of that good stuff
So my mind doesn't go so deep.

The weather changed
so did my mood
not an exception
generaly the rule
at least with me.

"Fall fell
and the clouds will chase around again
over the great blue sky
and my mind.
Fall Fell"

Think for yourself
then wonder what people might think
and decide you don't care.

Boring, boring ... and boring
so few things still to enchant
find the challenge again
that used to
burn me up.

Dreams so vivid
one could swear they were real
All well when beautiful
Till nightmares appear.

Borders of consciousness crossed
awake or asleep
doet it matter?
As long as it feels real
There are no dreams that limit
endless joy or endless grief.

Rainbows in my mind,
ghostriders in the sky
or was it
ghostriders in my mind,
rainbows in the sky?
I can't really remember ...

I do adore a good summer ...

The sun,
the warmth
cheer up my mind
like a wild buffoon.

Even the longing the travel
rises again.

Sleep comes gently
gliding away
in oblivion's blessing.

It's like trying to play tennis
and each time the ball comes at you
you keep hitting it in the open air.

I really don't get how some people
deal so easily with the sense of loss
continualy and inherently connected to this life

All the remnants of night and day
don't keep the demons away
But there used to be a spark
to chase them all around the dark.

Dear morning,
I bid you a good day
I hope your smile
chases the insomnia away.

Dear night
I welcome thee
bring me the salvation
Of a dream more beautiful than me.

A moment to remember

Walking down the street, sunset, the trees
A guy comes walking by, I look at him
Rather ok, maybe a bit old for me
Changing my perspective to the shop
Passing him by, I hear this:

"And she wants to travel with you ..."

Sometimes it's too bad you don't get to meet people.

Just writing this down
for it's a moment to remember

Just sad and blue

A phonecall
seems to be enough
like a blast from the past
to leave you sad and blue

Where the merry-go-rounds still turn
echoing that typical music
in an abandonded charade of youth

Where love was still so simple
undone of all distress
who could have known
that love is so fragile
that almost anything
can come between two people in love.

10K Poets challenge - human trafficking

I was up late one night
not an exception
but my weary boots wanted to rove
rove into the night
to taste it's sweet delight

Dancing around in the undertown
neonlights started burning
curiosity kills the cat
or the cat kills curiosity
but I passed a boot and looked inside
A washed away face, of a washed away life
I looked her straight into the eyes

Faded inner beauty
was all I saw,
a hurt soul, a hurt mind
scarred beyond life
no hope to be read
in those blackened eyes.
As if a candle losing it's oxygen
Gasping for breath, gasping for a shine of hope
Gasping slowly choking ...

Ashamed of introspecting such a devastated landscape
I looked at the ground
And all I could think of
was what she had on her mind

And for once I was ashamed
ashamed I was
because -
despite all my scars -
I knew I had it better
fighting to keep my candle alight
where all I could see there
was gasp, gasp, gasp ...

The words were spoken
and silence fell
who would react
and how

Nobody knew
She wanted her to be happy
so happy ...
She was never supposed to know.
She will never know.

Just wondering

Did I hurt you with my smile?
My laughter joyous again
as it once used to be

Do you think I'm flirting
because I smile and laugh
laugh and smile again?

It's just a wounded heart
slowly opening again
to whom she used to be

I may have my scars
but that? It's Life
But broken I am not!

Have mercy

I was reaching for you
like for a ghost on sandals of clay
I tried to touch you
but all I felt was dust and prayer

Watch over me
my guardian angels
Watch me in my sleep
Watch me as I ride through the darkness
In the hope for a better day.

La déception humaine

Maybe one day they will all realise it
Maybe not ...
Probably not.

How to preorder "Quills of Fire" by M. Campiz and L. Vanelslander

Payment can be made on:

Accountnumber: BE44 5794 2754 1245
International code ARSPBE22

By paypal: Lena Vanelslander, emailaddress: slaapslaapslaap@hotmail.co..m

With both: mention your home address (so I can send the book when the time comes) and which option you prefer of the possibilities.


"Quills of Fire" by Marilyn Campiz and Lena Vanelslander can be pre-ordered from now. For people from Belgium or a neighbouring country: 15 euros basic price, 17,5 euro autographed by one author, 20 euro for autographs from us both. People from other countries (my apologies the difference is due to shipping costs) 15 euros basic, 20 euro autographed by one author, 25 euros autographed by both authors. The shipping costs ... America - Belgium - South-Korea the triangle is not selfevident ... The price include shipping costs! But this advantage will only be a prerogative during the period of preordering!

A book of poetry sprung from the minds of two women with their own particular view on the world and themes as love, darkness, art, ... Different angles, perspectives and views ... East meeting West ... let them penetrate and resonate through your body.

I also have the honour to announce our publisher is PublishAmerica ... as I didn't mention this before.

Luck

The star
The full moon
The Rainbow's end
And the butterflies were there

For an amazing turn in events
Trying to save
What was left
of hell's fury.

Impressions

Sweet voices
from afar
calling a campfire
to sing around

The culture
smell it, the scent
how I long to be there
how I long for a home

Maybe I just belong to
a gypsy's heart
a gypsy's culture
Just a thought

To roam around
To arove gently
from place to place
from life to life.

"Quills of Fire" by Marilyn Campiz and Lena Vanelslander available for pre-order

"Quills of Fire" by Marilyn Campiz and Lena Vanelslander can be pre-ordered from now. For people from Belgium or a neighbouring country: 15 euros basic price, 17,5 euro autographed by one author, 20 euro for autographs from us both. People from other countries (my apologies the difference is due to shipping costs) 15 euros basic, 20 euro autographed by one author, 25 euros autographed by both authors. The shipping costs ... America - Belgium - South-Korea the triangle is not selfevident ... The price include shipping costs! But this advantage will only be a prerogative during the period of preordering!

A book of poetry sprung from the minds of two women with their own particular view on the world and themes as love, darkness, art, ... Different angles, perspectives and views ... let them penetrate and resonate through your body.

I also have the honour to announce our publisher is PublishAmerica ... as I didn't mention this before.








© Guido Van Bastelaere, 2005.


Author bio: Lena Vanelslander swam many waters; history, comparative culture analysis, languages. It all pertained to her study. Self-study however remained the most important thing, Mythology, Literature, Poetry, too many to sum up. Her career in poetry started briefly by a prize for European Poetry when she was eight but she remained writing more passively in her native language untill her twenties. After a life of tribulations the turning point came in her mid twenties: she started to write actively poetry in English and was showered with positive critique. Her melancholic and darkminded nature colour her poems to an individual signature in both time and space. Several poems got published, mainly in the Stray Branch, The Delinquent and Savage Manners. Her first chapbook ‘Ma Chanson de Rien du Tout’ has been released August 2009. This work of poetry and finesse, art, contain her first amount of prior unreleased poetry. Besides writing poetry she became also active in networking for poetry and spoken word. She has joined the association of ‘De Schuunschgreivers’ in Ghent, an alternative writing group pertaining to ‘Bij De Vieze Gasten’. She actively seeks to engage even more for poetry and art, but does face one boundary: in Belgium most poetry-associations only honour Dutch poetry. Therefore her commitment is more worldwide and webdirected. You can find her on the main social networking sites of this age. The future? The future is yet to be told. The story of her life continues each day, with each step made. To maintain a dream is one thing, to realise it another. Consider this work the realisation of a dream!







© Marilyn Campiz, 2008.


Author bio: Marilyn Campiz is a self-described life adventurer, an ordinary woman who has done extraordinary things. Her journies have taken her around the world where she became entranced with the universal themes that both plague and pleasure humanity. Her life experience has taken her from the stages in Europe to a broadcasting booth in Minneapolis, Minnesota as a youth to 20 years of service in the US Air Force. She views her present role, of ex-patriot English teacher in Deagu, South Korea, as just the beginning of another chapter in her life. A life long writer and poet, striving to go beyond what has rendered before. Bringing the conversation back, to what is poetry or form. She has contributed to literary magazines, expatriot journals, art projects and is the author of The Paris Diaries and the poetess of The Erotic Writings of Unobtainable. Inspired by the words of Arthur Rimbaud, Henry Miller, Jim Morrison, Poe and Faulkner, with a heavy wink to Orwellian thought. “In an age where hope and truth are rare commodities. Where fraud and corruption have poisoned our waters. When thoughts are consumed with fear...we now see the illusions of all we once held dear are phantoms.”

The deserted shorelines of loneliness

From the deserted shoreline
I watch the waves crash
one by one they enter nomansland
one by one they fade away
At least they went out with a blast

Always alone, always together
Like a community in itself
Wandering if their are waves
Who can feel as lonely as me?

Drama

Lift me from this burden
Ease the pain away
Sway me in the darkness
Till light appears again

I still say yes to this life.

Drink your wine
your blood's refreshment
Eat your meal
and compost it
Sleep
only for the weary
Work
Till you drop dead

No wonder some people just lose their senses ...

Creatures of the night
Seahorses of the Earth
Show me your Light
like a beacon of calm and silence
So I can waver along the sea
and find my destiny.

Talking to yourself
Or under another form
writing
does miracles!

I have to prepare myself for the nightmare ...
another birthday coming up
Days vanish like smoke in the air
But the smog of your life is clouding the sky
Slowly you go towards it
killing yourself day by day
Even if it just means ...
growing old.