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Jeff Gaines Mar 2018
Hello everyone,

  I'm so very sorry … I feel horrible doing this, but I have no choice. You see, I have published my first book on Amazon/Kindle! This piece (and many others) had to be taken down because they do not allow published material to be available online for free. (Go figure) I wanted to leave the shell of the posts because I felt compelled to leave all your helpful and loving comments. (Silly sentimental, I know), but I also didn't want to just have the pieces disappear without an explanation. I feel bad enough as it is!

  I owe ALL of you so, SO much for all of your reads, love, and support. It was YOU that gave me the gumption to FINALLY get off my **** and publish! Thank you all for the warm comments, camaraderie, and encouragement! I will still be here, reading, uploading and just being the Rascal that I am. How could I EVER leave you guys?

  The book is called “The Way I See It – FictionPhilosophySoul Food” and it will be FREE for the first few days on Kindle Select, so watch for it, if you are interested. I hope that you go and grab it. If you do, I would also hope that you find it worthy, you would leave me a good review. That will help me get in the public eye! Soon afterward (2-3 days or so), it will be available in paperback.

Find the book(s) here: www.amazon.com/author/jeff.gaines

Or find the book(s), and all about me, here: www.JeffGaines.world

  Soon after, I also hope to have my first novel (a supernatural thriller), called “Wanderer” available as well!

  Wish me luck!

                                Big, Biggest Love,

                                               Jeff Gaines
This was written a very long time ago at a moment in my life when I was feeling exasperated and frustrated about all my efforts seeming to end up fruitless. We all go there sooner or later, don't we?

I think I was in my early 30's and getting a lot of rejection emails on my first Novel. My writing was doing great online, my poetry winning awards ...

My favorite part of it is the multi-syllable words strung together. I was just beginning to stretch my wings with whimsy and word-smithing.

But, without a degree, the "Literati" in the publishing world will usually have little or nothing to do with you. To them, I guess ... without that paper, how could you POSSIBLY have something to write about?

This is just simply one of things we write as a form of "self-medication" as-it-were. It did make me feel better ... and as it always does ... things got better.

Such a Roller Coaster we are all riding, huh?!
pk tunuri  Jun 2018
LEFT
pk tunuri Jun 2018
I left my home in the name of education
I left my hometown in the name of higher education
I left my state in the name of graduation
I left my family in the name of aspiration

At times, I miss my childhood
Although, the fun & friends weren't the same in my adulthood
In order to get rid of their falsehood
I left them too, for my own good

I have traveled so far away from home
Now, When I let my thoughts to roam
All they bring back is sadness and pain
And then, I left my tears to drain

I lost myself in this whole journey of life
There were times when I often looked for a knife
Not just to **** me but to end the pain
I left everything and I'm waiting for a magical rain
RJP  Aug 2018
Streets of Gold
RJP Aug 2018
Trampling through their city paths,
Hunting ground, mean street.
They perch aloft towers of oak;
Dripping with prestige vine, wrapped
With silk leaves, soft to touch
And hard to climb.

The Sun sets over the seven lakes
Of spring kissed, freshly mown
Fields of scorn blessed by
Solitudal and beady eyes.
Gates keeping out the world that
Wishes them harm.

They sit so high peering down,
At our destitution, our self-prohetised Might!
And think:
“Pfft you all wish you could fly
Climbing a ladder to a higher you
and even if just for a peek.
Madisen Kuhn Sep 2018
i could be that girl
whose voice is low and melodic
and coats your mouth with
acacia honey
whose eyes are the color
and depth of
midnight
whose presence is thick like
new york summers
rosy like
los angeles in early spring
if i braid flowers into my hair
if i write enough poems
if i learn to show the skin of my essence
but remain an abyss—
i will stop making art
when i become it
FJ Davis Oct 26
When the kindly old priest counseled
that I should be myself, I confessed
to having set my sights
considerably higher.
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