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| His Father's Son, by Brandi Michelle Bourgon He is only his father’s son. He fought the man, but the anger won. His is such a dismal fate, to be so consumed by hate. And so the cycle spirals on... He was just a boy raised on GI-Joe’s Wore camouflage, played army in the garage Carried guns and bombs and fighter planes From the start, it seems, a battle raged within his heart. Play fights and violent games were the order of the day But when he got pushed too far, he listened to his father say, “Punch them in the nose. Never let them get their way.” You see, from the start, a battle raged in his father’s heart. He is only his father’s son. He fought the man, but the anger won. His is such a tragic fate to be consumed by so much hate. And so the cycle spirals on... Now he’s grown. Now he’s a man. But his father still can’t understand why the boy that he raised, spends most of his days wearing camouflage, firing guns, defending the war, it must be won. Across the sea in foreign parts, they try to settle a battle forged in so many men’s hearts. He is only his father’s son He fought the man, but the anger won. It is such a lonely fate to be all consumed by hate And so the cycle spirals on... The Kiss The sands of time were scattered to the winds by the heaviness of our breath that night... Simple wonders replaced webs of ancient and intricate design... This transference occurred beautifully within the precipitation... Precipitation birthed from fire fierce and fire slow... Embers burning quiet and still... Many admissions were made in the eyes of lovers... through the intensity of coming together... through the tenderness held in each other’s hands... throughout that kiss, passion was wise and clear... Many admissions were made that night... although mostly in silence. |
| Author Spotlight: Paranormalist Alexandra Holzer |
| PrettyGirl Poetry |
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PrettyGirl, author and spiritualist Alexandra Holzer is the leader of
the New York City Pretty Paranormals. You can find out all about
the group at its website here. Click here for Alexandra's profile!
Alexandra Holzer has released her autobiography, Growing Up
Haunted, a bittersweet account of her extraordinary life as the
daughter and clairvoyant heir to world-renowned author, professor
and paranormal investigator, Dr. Hans Holzer. Also detailed in this
groundbreaking memoir is Alexandra’s mother, The Countess to the
Baron side of The Royal Russian Family, The Buxhoevedens, with
relations to Catherine The Great.
Alexandra’s father, Dr. Holzer, is best known for his extensive
involvement in researching the supernatural, which included
investigating The Amityville Horror and some of the most prominent
haunted locations around the world. He has appeared on hundreds of
national and regional talk shows, hosting programs such as Ghost
Hunter in Boston, In Search Of with Leonard Nimoy on NBC, and
Beyond The Five Senses in Louisville, Kentucky, Explorations with
Brownville Productions in Ohio, radio with personalities such as Joe
Franklin, and films such as Murder in Amityville, The Amityville Curse
and Mars in the House--An Original for Stage and Music. Dr. Holzer, a
Ph.D., is a former newspaper reporter and foreign correspondent who
was trained to be skeptical; and in that disciplined, ever-questioning
mindset, he became one of the most noted and revered paranormal
researchers the world has ever known.
Alexandra Holzer proudly carries forth her father’s investigative
methodologies and international celebrity as she embarks upon her
own meanderings through paranormal places and events and shares
those lessons and insights with devoted fans and fellow experts
throughout the world. While she continues to grow into a noted para-
celebrity in her own right with two popular books to her name
(Growing Up Haunted and Lady Ambrosia), rapidly increasing media
exposure and a reality series now in development, lesser known are
the intimate details behind this extraordinary woman and her family—
including private moments between father and daughter, individual
and familial dysfunction and emotional revelations from The
Countess and her Parisian mother (who married The Count of
Russia). Growing Up Haunted reveals the beauty, the pageantry, the
humor and the gut-wrenching terror of real-life, caught-between
cultures, places and times. It is the true story of a remarkable life
filled with extraordinary people and spectacular events, revealing life-
specific details and timeless multi-dimensional realities only a true
clairvoyant and intellectually gifted daughter could ever so lovingly
convey.
| Author Spotlight: Chermean Taylor Gregory |
The book is now on pre-order for a signed copy with a
matching bookmark. It releases around the week of Feb. 16.
You can order it at www.booksbychermean.com or
www.myspace.com/booksbychermean.
matching bookmark. It releases around the week of Feb. 16.
You can order it at www.booksbychermean.com or
www.myspace.com/booksbychermean.
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| It's Raining, by Crystal Gonzalez It's raining and I see my life ahead of me but, I am not a part of that. It seems close enough for me to reach out my hand yet, still a world away. I watch it stall as if it is waiting for me to join it but, I won't and I can't. This makes me sad. It's right in front of me and I am not a part of it. My life starts to move further away from me. It goes the opposite direction from me. I feel my heart make a longing jump. As if it knows the direct path to reach my life. I feel the pain of emptiness from knowing that my life has gone and I went another direction. I remember of when I was first aware of my life. I seemed to both not notice and STILL know that something wonderful was going on. I remember the excitement and warmth that I felt. I remember my favorite dress. I remember the locations I went to and in my own psyche; tainted. I felt complete. I was in a situation though, that I had to stick to and make the right decisions for other lives. My life wanted me there and I turned it down. I didn't want to but, I did. Now, it's gone a different direction than I. And it's raining. Maybe there'll be an image of me remembered in there. Maybe my name will be remembered. A part of me believes so. No one will be able to tell me. Not unless my life could. It's still raining and I'll just have my memories. Looking Into A Marble A yellow feather lay on the sidewalk. A painted dog walked up and ate it. |
