Brilliant Blog Share

Posted on   November 26, 2015  on https://countingducks.wordpress.com   reflections on a passing life. by   Peter Wells aka Countingducks             I cannot hold your hand this year, I cannot share that memory. I cannot pour a drink for you or walk the beach where we both walked. I cannot laugh as we both laughed or dance a night time’s life away, sure we have eternity I cannot hold your arm this year, and steady you across the road, two old people braving time and laughing at futility. I cannot travel back with you, glass in hand to memories when, young at heart, we hid our  insecurities. I cannot see you in the room, smiling as you always did, at some transgression in our midst, or drive too fast down country lanes or swim where reckless people swim: ignoring safety was our pride. We always got away with it: made it to the other side; but are you are gone and I am here, stripped of context by my age, a mystery in this sheltered home, now without my fam

FIRST POSTED ON   HTTPS://THEPBSBLOG.WORDPRESS.COM I fell in love with this as soon as I started reading. I think you might do the same. Pearls Before Swine POETRY Her Skin November 9, 2015 Yecheilyah She has heard for too long now that her pores bleed the color of slave ships that chains have been seen in her smile that her skin shines like a beacon of shame sprinkled amidst Mississippi cotton fields sometimes her beauty sticks out like a diamond in the ruff they notice her and still she is only pretty for a dark skin girl Who does she think she is? being darker than a brown paper bag? The truth is that she is the color of the Goddesses a dark chocolate kiss neatly wrapped in silk want to touch her face just to see if it’s real just to see if it’ll melt underneath my fingertips Instead I’ll keep my hands to myself don’t want to be the stone responsible for the wrinkles in her skin this delicate rose petal of a woman reborn in the spring don’t wa

I am not a fan of posts wich simply list a string of facts or sayings. At firts glance this post looks excatly like one of those,  but once you take some time to consider each line you realise that this is actually offering some good advice and insight. Which is why it has found itself on 'Brilliant Blogshare' As the title of this post suggests ALL the posts on this blog are for sharing with your own friends andnetworks, so please feel free and share away ,  Thank you, Paul  (originaly posted by  kangalex ) Buy high quality tools, so you only have to buy them once. Keep a change of clothes at work. Never hit anyone unless they are an immediate threat. Every hat should serve a purpose. Never take her to the movies on the first date. Learn to wet shave. Nothing looks more bad ass than a well-tailored suit. Shave with the grain on the first go-around. Always look a person in the eye when you talk to them. Buy a plunger before you need a plunge

Who Am I? Originally posted on  http://thereporterandthegirl.com/2015/08/21/who-am-i/ This post has found its way onto ' Brilliant Blog Share' for the uncompromising and rawness of its words. Clearly there are contradictions and inconsistencies within, but that only goes to highlighting the emotional anguish portrayed by the writer.   Dear readers, I want to introduce this anonymous submission from a friend of mine. He broke up with his girlfriend of two years, a couple months ago. And on my suggestion, wrote a piece today about his feelings. Please show him your support! @ReporterandGirl  or  Facebook  or  G+ . What kind of fucked up, dark, twisted question is that? What does that even mean? I’m asking, seriously. What defines someone? Our actions? Thoughts? Beliefs? What I do when no one is around? Or better yet, what I do when everyone is around? When you break up with someone, there’s this pressure to reinvent yourself. To find out who you are. But to me,

This was first posted by   http://yourartsygirl.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/mango-man.html I liked it so much I thought it suitable to re-post here, I hope you agree. I remembered the vendor  who pushed his squeaky cart  of sweet corn, sugarcane,  and mangos in the sweltering afternoons,  through residential subdivisions of my past.  And as a child chased him down,  with my only peso in hand, anxious to fulfill  that nameless need in my early dawn.  Just as if the sky turned the colors  of burnt orange and the world smelled  of incense and my grandmother's coconut oil,  I walked this path before with many faces.  Thus, I returned here with the same perplexities—  gastric questions that bubble inside,  back pains of my former loss.  My mother will one day look on smiling,  finally at rest in her hammock  contented for once about the heat,  as I will hear again that mango man call out  the objects of my affection.  One day pockets will

Originally POSTED ON  JUNE 3, 2015   BY  AMANDALYLE1986 Read the ORIGINAL post https://insidethelifeofmoi.wordpress.com/2015/06/03/a-letter-to-my-father/ I have included this post on Brilliant Blog share because it ENCOMPASSES everything that this blog has set out to discover, basically the most exceptional blog posts around and this post IS exceptional. 229 Dear Dad, It’s hard to believe it’s been five years since I said goodbye. The absence in my heart still yearns louder than ever. A missing piece, forever lost and irreplaceable. All that remains are memories, ever-fading and ragged around the edges. I grasp onto them with all my might, trying to savour each one, but as time trickles by like sand in an hourglass, so do the memories I have of you. Five years on, I still find it hard to look at old photographs without feeling overwhelmed by sadness. I tread cautiously through a minefield of memories in fear of setting off an explosion of emotions, every reminder of

A short story by Elizabeth Newton  Originaly published on http://elizabethnnewton.com/2015/07/01/the-vineyard/ Elizabeth Newton has (so far), published two amazing books. 'Riddle' a twisted and interwoven story about murder, betrayal and revenge in a small town. The second is ' View from the Sixth Floor: An Oswald Tale'  which is a story of “what-if's?" What if the assassination of President John F. Kennedy on November 22, 1963 was a conspiracy? What if accused assassin Lee Harvey Oswald was innocent? What if....Below is one of Elisabeth's short stories, it may just give you reason to take a look at her books.  The Vineyard   My family has been producing one of the finest wines from the Carmargue region for several generations. Although we are a very small vineyard many have said our grapes are the sweetest and our wine has an indefinable “something”. Of course the distinctive color known as “grey of grey” contributes to the uniqueness of