About Reaching Out

Genius is 1% Inspiration and 99% Perspiration

A short rant on Jan 17



Issue #1 is out!

Check me out, The Unlettered Bard, featured in the online lit and art mag, The Tophat Raven! Maasha Allah, alhamdulillah! 😀


Keep an eye on it.

Great opportunities for bloggers…

The Paperbook Blog

There is all sorts of cool shit happening out in the blogosphere.

You only need to log onto your WordPress Reader in the morning to be inundated with endless amounts of wonderful new ideas and initiatives.

I thought I would take a moment to share with you the ones I know about, and hopefully you will do the same.

So here is what I have been keeping an eye on, in between university and publishing new issues of The Paperbook Collective. 


wePoets Show It.

Who: wePoets Show It.

Where: WordPress ~ wePoets Show It.
               Facebook ~ We Poets Show It.

What: An interactive online community designed to showcase writers, poets, artists, published books and photography. They have a really cool rotation of themes and posts on their blog, make sure you swing by and take a look.


First Round’s On…

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Share in order to Receive

One Good Turn Deserves Another

Steven Fox is offering a link to his 20,000 plus followers blog via a give and take policy: you reblog his post in return for posting a link to your weblog on his blog post.
Try it.
The concept sounds sound.


Al Jarreau explains it masterfully.
Enjoy the song!  

Al Jarreau One Good Turn

Hajiani Sara Sona (Brock) Barnes

the 2013 Nominees – Best Performance by a Blogger

Congratulations to the nominees…
Great job Kendall!

The Neighborhood

{press play}

The Plight of a Powerless Consciousness 
I’m far from my peek of consciousness;
I’m just breaking into this game.
But I have some advice for the novices
like me, that are starting to feel the same.
Like there’s an emptiness in your existence,
and a bountiful source of sadness.
You want to fight these emotions through resistance,
but powerlessness and consciousness drive you to madness.
Like breathing seems just a little more futile,
as if pieces of you break off with each exhale.
In your despair you find little worthwhile,
afraid to move, feeling that to move is to fail.
In each of these moments I go back to my center,
that place that enables me to shamelessly feel.
To paint, dance, cry, or sing is my mentor.
All thoughts are stopped. In that moment, I heal.
There, the wills of the cowardly, though strong
cannot disrupt my…

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