âListen! The wind is rising, and the air is wild with leaves,
We have had our summer evenings, now for October eves!â â Humbert Wolfe
“I can smell autumn dancing in the breeze. The sweet chill of pumpkin, and crisp sunburnt leaves.” â Ann Drake đđ§đ„Ÿ
Step into the captivating world of Alison Nappi, a writer whose words have touched the hearts of millions, around the globe. With her powerful voice resonating with women, witches, neurodivergent artists and empaths Alison has become a beacon of inspiration in the realm of literature.
As both a blogger and the author of the enchanting ‘Wildness Deck Oracle’ and ‘Five Signs; A Burning Light to Guide Free-Spirited Women, Witches and Empaths Through the Darkness,’ Alison crafts stories that delve into realms while guiding readers towards self-discovery. Her unique perspective as a neurodivergent woman adds depth and authenticity to her writing inviting readers into a realm where understanding and connection thrive.
In addition to her own writing endeavors, Alison actively supports fellow neurodivergent and spiritual writers as a dedicated creative consultant. With her expertise and guidance, she empowers other writers to find their voices and unlock their potential within an inclusive community.
Five Signs: A Burning Light to Guide Free-Spirited Women, Witches and Empaths Through the Darkness
All women possess rich, deep truths they secretly experienceâŠNow itâs time to let the secret out.
Five Signs is a collection of five life-changing works of wisdom. Each article addresses critical issues that impact those women in society that may be considered the âblack sheep.â Those of us who donât fit into the stereotypical norms society wants us to⊠and some of us who may have magic deep within our souls.
The Heroâs Journey: An empowering essay that inspires, motivates and provides a life focus.
Declarations of Independence: An indictment against the insanity of society and a celebration of those who struggle with ostracism, mental illness or exile.
Your Soulmate is a Villain: A powerful guide on identifying and navigating narcissistic abuse.
Let Your Record Stand: How to follow your art, create and head towards happiness.
Lies You Were Told About Grief: A compassionate acknowledgement of the anguish of grief and how we have been misled about what the process of grieving may look like.
Five Signs will inspire you to discover your true self, take you down a road of understanding life and will motivate you to express yourself wrapped in your creativity.
Grab Five Signs now and allow your soul to see the truth clearly for the first time.
I discovered the writings of Alison Nappi while subscribing to an online magazine called Rebelle Society. Rebelle Society always shared the work of their contributors on Facebook. Alison Nappiâs blogs, in particular, moved me beyond words. She writes gorgeous and brilliant prose. You can experience that in Five Signs, an eye-opening, inspiring, encouraging, and beautifully written book. Throughout the sixty-page read, I kept saying aloud, âWow. Oh, wow. Oh, my God.â I recognize the âvillainsâ she talks about and so much more. This relatable work was so validating; it had me in tears. It validated me and at least one other person I know, as Iâm sure it will so many others. Honestly, I think the author is an incredible spirit and a genius. And in short, Five Signs is a work of art, just lovely. I truly loved it.
Driven by her passion for nurturing talent, Alison offers writing classes tailored for neurodivergent individuals. These classes unlock their potential as storytellers while providing guidance to guide creatives to their truest voices, highest governing truths and most soulful messages. For those seeking individual attention, she also provides coaching sessions that guide aspiring authors through the intricate process of writing and publishing.
Exciting things lie ahead for Alison as she prepares to release a series of captivating books that will undoubtedly leave readers spellbound.
To keep yourself informed and be, among the first to embark on these captivating adventures ensure that you subscribe to Alison Nappi’s Amazon profile, Substack and social media channels. Get ready to be captivated and inspired by the way Alison Nappi’s words transform and inspire through her distinctive method of assisting individuals with neurodivergence in crafting their own works of art.
An Open Letter to Your Inner Child
by Alison Nappi
To the child who couldnât understand
why nobody could understand.
To the one whose hand was never taken,
whose eyes were never gazed into by
an adult who said,
âI love you.
You are a miracle.
You are holy,
right now and
forever.â
To the one who grew up in the realm of âcanât.â
To you who lived ânever enough.â
To the one who came home to no one there, and
there but not home.
To the one who could never understand why
she was being hit
by hands, words, ignorance.
To the one whose innocence was unceremoniously stolen.
To the one who fought back.
To the one who shattered.
To the never not broken one.
To the child who survived.
To the one who was told she was
sinful, bad, ugly.
To the one who didnât fit.
To she who bucked authority
and challenged the status quo.
To the one who called out
the big people for
lying, hiding and cruelty.
To the one who never stopped loving anyway.
To the child that was forbidden to need.
To the ones whose dreams were crushed
by adults whose dreams were crushed.
To the one whose only friend
was the bursting, budding forest.
To the ones who prayed to the moon,
who sang to the stars
in the secrecy of the night
to keep the darkness at bay.
To the child who saw God
in the bursting sunshine of
dandelion heads
and the whispering
clover leaf.
To the child of light who cannot die,
even when sheâs choking
in seven seas of darkness.
To the one love
I am and you are.
You are holy.
I love you.
You are a miracle.
Your life,
your feelings,
your hopes and dreamsâ
they matter.
Somebody failed you but you will not fail.
Somebody looked in your eyes and saw the sun â blazing â and got scared.
Somebody broke your heart but your love remains perfect.
Somebody lost their dreams and thought you should too,
but you mustnât.
Somebody told you
that you werenât
enough
or too much,
but you are
without question
the most perfect
and holy creation of
Godâs
own
hands.
(full version)
Reality to me is the dusk.
Prevalence in the shadows.
It is cloaking,
Grasping,
Discerning
In a world of darkness.
It is torment.
It is restraint.
The disturbing notion
That one must taste a normal
Subsistence,
An existence so mundane and
Unremarkable.
Part of me scorns itâ
The contrived,
The unnatural kismetâ
And so loves being
Unbounded.
I can pretendâ
I know you know what it is
To stand the test of time
As a creature sunken
In the darkness of the world,
Trying to understand
What is going on,
What it is we need,
Why we do this,
And what it is they expect us to do.
But, the beauty of the peaceful lull
Amid the trees just before sunrise
Lies in contrast with the hazy tumult
Of my self-inflicted tomb.
I have lived, and I have died.
Life, as I knew it, is over.
Still, I am happier than I have ever been.
I know love.
I know peace.
I am in awe of every vision.
I bask in the passion of every caress.
Every bit of air I breathe is a godsend.
I could listen to the stillness of the ocean
Before daybreak,
To the waves amid a blue-violet sky.
I could dance with flair to the music
With a glow that illuminates me.
I have a power that lures,
Clutches,
And holds.
Temptation is like the ache for sustenance.
Seduction is smooth,
Effortless.
One learns to employ everything,
To safeguard,
To control,
And to conquer.
I feel as if I am asking you for your heart,
Your soul,
Your breath,
Your life.
What I long to say,
I hesitate to say it.
There is the danger,
The allure
As my hand reaches out to touch your face.
Can I hold you
And resist all temptation?
Can I ever set you free?
It is the old, âI have to do this.
I donât want to do this.â
Yet I must send you away.
To protect you is to leave you when I must,
To silence you when you probe,
To evade,
To elude.
I can sense your presence,
Always,
Before I see you.
And, I kiss the earth you swagger upon!
We can only be hurt if I love you.
Itâs all been said before,
No doubt.
I might have said it all sooner,
Had I not been savoring every moment
Of getting to know you.
Wishing that carefree innocence never would
cease.
There is no one else Iâd rather beâ
Unless it was to love you.
You are all that I crave.
âĄ
Author D.K. Sanz a/k/a Kyrian Lyndon
Despite mournful envy and
Dejected wrath,
We bask under blue skies,
Bewitching stars,
And mystical moons,
Loving rumbles of thunder,
Glistening raindrops,
And a hazy peaceful sunrise.
In the face of
Sorrowful greed,
We delight in magnificent mountains,
Bountiful oceans,
Turquoise lagoons,
Beautiful blossoms,
And the green, green grass
Of springtime.
Through raging anger,
Aching sadness,
We treasure radiant sunsets,
Seek marble courtyards,
Ancient architecture,
And splendid arched bridges.
We sing the praises of
Breathtaking falls.
Even crushed
And bewildered,
We are captivated by
Exquisite winged creatures,
Tropical forests,
And the critters we nurture.
We embrace the power in our divinity
And the superb magic of everything.
With every threat to the world
We belong to
And embrace,
We revel in books and dreams.
Weâre mesmerized by
Otherworldly visions
And plentiful hues.
We cherish
The light in ever-curious
Truth seekers,
And are ever grateful
For smiles,
Rapturous affection,
Laughter,
And love.
by Kyrian Lyndon
When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy. â Rumi
Find a place inside where thereâs joy, and the joy will burn out the pain. â Joseph Campbell
seagull photo by geralt / 24478 images at Pixabay
woman on beach photo by Tomas Jasovsky on Unsplash
She hated flowers, and I wondered why
That was;
When diamonds less radiant
Diminished her gloom,
And she delighted in the fragrance of her favorite perfume.
She hated that they withered and faded,
I thought;
That their petals broke loose,
And they barely hung on.
She hated that they were thrown away,
With every trace of them gone.
They were delicate and fragile like her,
Iâd say;
The kind of thing
She felt so undeserving of.
Itâs such taxing work for the weary,
Simply to nurture and love.
She clung to her own greenness and vigor,
I thought.
Exquisite as they were,
They brought too much sorrow;
She detested caring for those that,
Would not need her tomorrow.
She was too oppressed to provide refuge,
I found.
I heard heartbreaking stories,
Where she had it rough.
She did the best she could, I know,
But it was just never enough.
She is every bit like the flowers,
You know,
Warms your vulnerable heart,
With kindness and grace;
Brings happy tears to your eyes,
And the most joyful smile to your face!
She regales like a queen, and she stuns,
I say;
And I love her,
As I do those flowers she hates!
Some have penetrable walls, you know;
She has padlocked iron gates
Author: Kyrian Lyndon
Top feature image by Hong Zhang from Pixabay
Black rose image by Larisa Koshkina from Pixabay
Purple rose image by GLady from Pixabay
Orange flowers image by Larisa Koshkina from Pixabay
My body was a useless entity.
In your presence, it betrayed me.
Like dangerous waters beckoning
In their mystifying beauty.
Their tantalizing fluidity caressed my body
As I resisted taking the plunge.
My body betrayed me,
Ignored me like a preoccupied stranger
With a will of its own.
And, I cruelly learned,
I could control what happened
Only if you were merciful.
But, watching you,
Listening to you,
Was not merciful.
It was a torturous joy.
Feature image above by Stefan Keller from Pixabay
“Unmerciful” is from Awake with the Songbirds Available on Amazon.com
Did you know you could die?
Did you want to die, or simply not care?
All that bravado,
A hellion in rebellion,
But you knew things.
And, everything you said was true.
We smoked in the factory corridor,
Played ball in the streets.
Through summer school and Nok Hockey,
You were everything.
Just like those caramel nut sundaes at Klees
And the old rooster we cried for.
You taught me to be tough
And gave the best advice.
Looking after me
When it wasnât your job.
You needed your space,
Your own place.
You didnât need a pesty shadow
Like me.
I didnât understand.
We all loved you.
At least, I thought I loved youâ
But I couldnât see you then.
Ghosts can be so many things.
Whatever haunts you.
And, sometimes, what brings you
A silent joy and blessed peace,
You canât share it with anyone
But the one who shares it with you.
I see you now.
And, so, I released you
When you needed to go.
Like a balloon to the sky.
Or a butterfly,
Or one of those Wish-niks
You and I loved to cling to.
I do love you now,
And Iâll keep sending love to
Wherever you are.
The memoriesâ
Iâll cherish them forever.
And, I hope you forgive me,
As I do you.
Be happy!
Keep shining!
You always did amaze me.
Letting Go from Awake with the Songbirds by Kyrian Lyndon
Photo of sisters in hammock by Janko FerliÄÂ at Unsplash
Photo of rebel woman by Tibi_Varzaru from PixabayÂ
Photo of caramel nut sundae by chotda on Flicker
Photo of ghost girl by Enrique Meseguer from PixabayÂ
Photo of red balloon in window by Alfons SchĂŒler from Pixabay
Photo of dandelions by InspiredImages from PixabayÂ
What are we going to do about the fact that Iâm dying?â
She asked him.
âThereâs a lot we havenât resolved.
Thereâs so much we canât say to each other,
Including goodbye.
I donât think Iâve done enough for you,
Or that I ever deserved you.
âI keep trying to let things go,
Let it be,
Have faith,
Have trust,
And I think it works, most of the time.
Wisdom is crystallized pain,
And my greatest pain has been your sadness.
I worry so much about you.
âEverything shifted
When you entered my world.
You led me to the right path,
Revealed my inner shadows.
You made me a better human.
And, I love you.
And, I just want you to be okay.
More than anything, I want you to be happy.
But, youâre not, and I canât leave you like that.
You deserve to find your joy.
âWalking away from hard-hearted people is easy
For me,
But you,
Despite your impenetrable shell,
Are the kindest person I have ever known.
I could never walk away.
Iâd miss you more than
Iâve ever missed anything in my life.
âOh, and what are we going to do about the fact that youâre dying?â
She asked him next.
âI think youâre afraid.
A lost soul who canât find the path that leads home.
I see innocence,
Confusion,
And anger,
Your eyes donât light up.
I see the beauty you donât see,
In yourself,
Or in the world around you.
âBelieve me; I get it.
The world makes you angry,
Robs you of the will to fight.
What you say concerns me, though.
I want to talk to you about it,
But when I do, you shut me down.
You canât forgive those people,
And youâre right about them:
They donât deserve any more of your energy.
It baffles me that they were so unkind,
To someone so precious.
And, because of them,
You havenât been kind to yourself.
You donât love who you are,
But I love you.
âThank you for continuing to live when
You wanted to die.
Maybe I had no right to insist
Lifeâs worth fighting for.
Itâs your existence,
Your pain.
I canât suffer it for you.
And, Iâd never say you were selfish,
No matter what you chose.
Unbearable is just that.
But, in every blessed way, you transformed me.
You showed me unconditional love.
âOf course, I know, too, how hard you fought to survive.
Iâm honored that you chose to stay with me.
And, though youâd never admit it,
Youâve come such a long way.
It still hurts, I know,
But youâre never alone,
And never will be.
âPromise me this, though.
Begin, once again, to cherish
The whisper of the wind,
The beauty of a clear day,
And the divinity in all of nature.
Hold hands with someone,
Sigh at the faraway places,
Laugh at yourself,
Find humor wherever you can,
And let somebody hug you.
Embrace your vulnerability,
Savor your progress,
Celebrate your triumphs, and
Learn from your mistakes,
Always healing.
âPromise me, too,
Youâll take a chance on love
Again and again.
Reach out, my dear one.
Find it in your heart to forgive.
And, finally,
Know this.
Youâll be back.
Iâll be back.
Weâll cross paths again.
We are all dying, my friend, so, please
Begin to live.â
“My Friend” from Awake with the Songbirds by Kyrian Lyndon
Would you like to review Awake with the Songbirds? Let me know! Free review copies are available in PDF, Word, and Kindle formats.
For the Kindle version, you must have a Kindle device. If you don’t have one, you can download it for free at this link. Once you are on that page, click on Read with our Free App. The link is above the book description. You can also install the app on your phone.
The PDF version requires Acrobat Adobe DC.
If you’d like to leave a review, you can do so here and/or here. Reviews are very much appreciated, no matter how brief.
Thank you! Hope you enjoyed the poem!
Hi everyone!
I’m putting the word out that my new poetry book, Awake with the Songbirds, is available NOW on Amazon.com in paperback and Kindle versions!
I also have free review copies in both formats, so please send me a message or comment if you’d like to review the book.
Lastly, if you would like a chance to win a free copy, follow this blog for upcoming details.
My new book, “Awake With The Songbirds,” which includes the above poem and many more, will be available by the end of next week. I’m so excited!
Please let me know if you are interested in obtaining an advanced review copy or if youâd like me to notify you about any upcoming giveaways. There will be a few chances to win a copy in the forthcoming months!
This collection consists primarily of poems written during the COVID-19 pandemic, a time of loneliness and rumination.
Lyndonâs poetry stems from intense emotions that swing from one end of the pendulum to the other as she captures the agony of love and loss, along with innocent joy and lighthearted fun.
Each poem is an earnest response to life, love, and everything in between.
Here is one poem in the collection.
SAME OLD NEIGHBORHOOD
The neighborhood hasnât changed,
But the draperies on the windows have been swept aside.
We see you.
Telling someone to go back to where they came from,
To the place where they had no voice
And no choice.
That place where they were beaten,
Neglected and shamed,
Where they never felt safe,
Never had a chance.
Oh, theyâd love to go home,
But, home isnât home anymore.
The neighborhood hasnât changed,
But, the fanfaronade has consequences.
We hear you.
Itâs not just words.
Itâs not simply freedom.
Itâs a weapon to harm and destroy.
To punish those who arenât the same.
People just like you commit horrific crimes,
But you donât identify them
Only with crimes because they mirror you.
People just like you hurt you and fight you and hate you
But, you donât see them all as threatening because they are you.
The neighborhood hasnât changed,
But, many more of us want to live here only in peace.
You can make that happen.
So many beautiful people Iâve known in my life
Were those people you rejected,
And they were full of warmth and kindness and wisdom.
You donât see them because theyâre not the same.
The neighborhood hasnât changed,
And neither has any divine love for all who live here.
Like you, we are sacred.
All is sacred every moment of every day.
WHAT READERS SAY
âShe has the ability to convey to the reader some of the most complex thoughts into words that truly reach our hearts.ââ Love Books
âHer lyrical voice speaks with careful observation and passion. In the narrative mode, she is masterful in reading life around her. Kyrian possesses the sensitivity, insight, and soul of the true poet. Her writing provides a primer on how to compose meaningful poetry.ââLou Jones
***
Please let me know if you are interested in obtaining an advanced review copy or if youâd like me to notify you about any upcoming giveaways. There will be a few chances to win a copy in the forthcoming months!
Happy Reading!
Dying embers set alightâ
What had those vile creatures unleashed in me?
What beast had they awakened?
I think I vowed to kill the beast
With a single flameâs fury and resilience,
Bury it so deep in the abyss
That it would never again rear its ugly head.
Part of me did make this promise.
The other part embraced
An unfolding of lifeâs inextinguishable flames
And the mindâs unspoken bondage.
Because the crushing of oneâs will
Didnât cease with the conquest.
Poison oozed from the wound
Like some fairy tale curse
That corrupted your spirit,
Making it so vile,
You couldnât know or understand your desires.Â
Kyrian Lyndon – Deadly Veils Book One: Shattering Truths
Speak to me of what you dream
While the world, in a hush,
Lays itself to rest in the darkness.
There is change,
There is gray,
There is truth
In the haven of a colorful world
Free of elitism and unbending visions,
Far from the inflexible architects of doom.
We have room!
No separation,
Degradationâ
We are one.
No superiority,
Inferiorityâ
Two sides of the same coin.
No labels,
No fablesâ
Compassion for all
Or we fall.
From ‘A Dark Rose Blooms’ by Kyrian Lyndon
Feature image at the top by Gerd Altmann from PixabayÂ
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, donât deal in lies,
Or, being hated, donât give way to hating,
And yet donât look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dreamâand not make dreams your master;
If you can thinkâand not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth youâve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build âem up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: âHold onâ;
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kingsânor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty secondsâ worth of distance runâ
Yours is the Earth and everything thatâs in it,
Andâwhich is moreâyouâll be a Man, my son!
Joseph Rudyard Kipling is best known for his novels The Jungle Book, The Second Jungle Book, and Kim, and his most famous poem, “Ifâ“.
This poem is in the public domain.
First photo by Cosmic Timetraveler on Unsplash
Second photo by Mark Teachey on Unsplash
Iâve recently created a site at https://culture-cave.spruz.net/ that allows members to share work, blogs, photos, videos, memes, etc. We also have groups, discussions, and chat rooms.
This social network is for everyone involved in the arts (literature/art/music, etc.). It is also for people who appreciate these contributions (book lovers, music lovers, etc.) All are welcome to share, educate, and learn in a supportive space. Recovery from anything is another welcome topic. We strive to heal, evolve, and succeed!
Our âeventsâ feature allows members to post about online or real-life events, including book launches, signings, and promos.
Our âlinksâ feature will enable members to post their websites for interested readers/clients, etc.
The chat rooms can be utilized by members to host events, meetings, demonstrationsâwhatever helps them in self-promotion, and we will assist with the invites. They also exist to just chat. đ
We can continue to build this site together, so if you think you and anyone you know might enjoy this opportunity, please join us.Â
https://culture-cave.spruz.net/
If you have trouble registering, you may contact me at kyrianlyndon@kyrianlyndon.com. I will assist you.
Once you join, I ask that you read the âIMPORTANTâ note on the left side of our landing page and then âHow To Useâ this site on our “DISCUSSION” board so that you can achieve the maximum benefits of membership.
Hope to see you there!
Note – The photo above the poem is the back cover of my poetry book, Remnants of Severed Chains, designed by KH Koehler of KH Koehler Designs.
The sun rises with Foreboding crow caws, While the day brings Sirens of uncertainty. Allergies persist. Well, for the lilac pansies, The snapdragons, And the daffodils⊠Oh, and the tulips in all colors, Beautiful and bold.
We see the sun From behind the glass. We hear the rain. Upstairs, there is music. Heâs singingâ Playing guitar. Â Below we talk like survivors Of dystopian madness Taking shelter in a cave. âAre you okay?â âYes.â âAre you sure?â âYes. Are you?â âYes.â
 The days are longer. Open windows let in the breeze. Outside, the trees are tall and proud. With all their flowers, Cherries, And leaves. Yet weâ We are powerless, Our illusion of safety Violated once more.  Oh, but the birds chirp in a frenzy! Come play. The earth is alive! We need to laugh and To cry. Everything is tragic  And beautiful. Â
But some have no one to talk to, Little, if anything, to eat, No way to get well, And nowhere to hide. Others rise to an occasion They never could have fathomed, Working toward their lifelong dream With infinite empathy. Does it wreak desolation? We donât even know the extent Of how harsh life can be. People die for greed. Â Dreaded knock on the door now. No one should come hereâ Maybe not for a while. Uneasy eyes Behind masked faces. Down the stairwells then, One flight at a time, I go beyond the door, Where the world is. Experience it once more, For a short time. The sun is bright Across a vivid blue sky. Thereâs the scent of fresh-cut grass And the sweet caress of the wind. Itâs like a summer day With pillowy clouds And butterflies. The worldâs magnificent beauty.
 Then itâs back to the safe place. Do you have one of those? A safe place to be? I hope you do.  Because the stars are still there at night, Like the glorious moon. I watch them as I hope Things get better. Like they always did before, At least, for a little while.
“How Are You Feeling These Days” poem by Kyrian Lyndon
Photo credits (from top to bottom):
Crow – Alexas Pansies – Shirley Snapdragons – Metsikgarden Tulips – Annca Cave – Stocksnap Cherry blossom trees – Dewdrop157 Dogwood Trees – Brinnington Bird in Tree – bardia Hashemirad on Unsplash Landscape – Larisa-k Clouds – Johnsongoh Fantasy Stargazing – Larissa-k
Brave Wings is a new online magazine that focuses on the human conditionâwhatever we experience in life that helps us learn, grow, and evolve. Sharing perspectives about healing and empowerment can be exciting and helpful, but we also want to provide entertainment and fun while sharing the beauty of creativity.
Some of the topics we will cover:
Adversity, anxiety, artist(s), authors, books, writing (editing tips and experiences), childhood, classic literature, codependency, compassion, creativity, depression, dreams, ego, evolving, feeling unworthy, fiction pieces and excerpts, fun, giving back, gratitude, grief, growing, healing, hope, humanity, humility, humor, inspiration, interviews, judgment, learning, letting go, life, loss, love, mental health, narcissism, oppression, panic attacks, parenting, passion, poetry, politics, prejudice, reading and reviews, recovery from addiction and trauma, relationships, religion, romance, sadness, self-sabotage, self-care and self-love, shame, stigma, stress, and tolerance.
For entertainment, we are interested in short stories and book series (all genres). Weâre interested in humor.
For creativity, we may be interested in photos, handmade products, something that showcases your talent.
Content for submission will include blogs, videos, audios, slideshows, and photographs. Please see the submissions page for instructions on how to submit!
We will not pay for submissions at this time. However, we will always share your work on our social media sites, and we encourage all contributors to share magazine contents submitted by others on their social media sites. Helping one another with exposure is what will make this site work.
In addition, we will provide the following for all contributors to the magazine:
A listing in the contributor section, where more information (links, etc.) will be added with each contribution. The most frequent contributors may also have a few of their books, products, or recommendations in the listing.
The opportunity by contributors to submit news that provides opportunities for artistic communities, as well as their own business events and significant personal news, all of which we will share on our social media sites.
Access to the chat room (as a moderator, if they prefer), and the ability to hold monitored topic meetings to promote their talent/business.
For those privileges, you must be a regulator contributor. There are no deadlines. However, you must have contributed at least twice with acceptance and publication.
We do intend to have a community that includes a discussion forum and chat room where we can present topics hosted by contributors.
Our Announcement page will provide news of available opportunities within the artistic communities, including contests and contributor events.
We will post book reviews that are submitted by contributors, but we donât assign books for review.
We will post interviews by our contributors if they are relative to our platform. If you feel you are a good candidate for an interview, contact us at submissions@bravewingsmag.com.
If this venture is a success, we may eventually monetize and pay for content.
For those interested in getting involved, we may also need editors, site moderators, group moderators, page moderators, etc. who will have contributor status. Those most involved will be given domain e-mail addresses for the magazine. We have four more available, so if you love this idea, the opportunity is there to get as involved as youâd like.
Another thing Iâm tossing around is whether weâll have a group or newsletter for interested parties, so please, please, weigh in with your thoughts about everything! All suggestions are welcome!
Please visit our site at Bravewings.mag.com, and feel free to follow or subscribe.
You made me laugh,
And I forgot all the tears.
You helped me up,
And I forgot the times
You let me down.
You were hatred,
Just as surely as
You were love.
You were everything right
And everything wrongâ
Humility and
Defiance,
Cruelty
And kindness,
Approval and
Contempt.
You were everything
And nothing.
I had to let you go,
And it freed me.
Still, Iâm sad,
For I know
Who you might have been.
I know you so wellâŠ
But you do not know me. – Kyrian Lyndon
from Remnants of Severed Chains
Book cover design by Jah Kaine via jerboa Design Studios.com
Feature header photo by ara ghafoory @araghafoory
Poem copyright © Kyrian Lyndon 2015
The robin in your tender heart
Hungers for the red berry
That titillates your tongue.
She carols as the snow fallsâ
And not with the chorus of the dawn
In radiant spring.
What might have been?
Your voice silenced,
The spirit of you
Destroyed,
I see glimpses of your fire
From the light that has vanished
From your eyes.
Your wings soar,
Only not to follow
Your heart.
And your heart is that of
A child,
Deeply vulnerable,
Precious,
So sensitive,
And sweet.
You inspire me
To change my perspective
With your unique vision
Of the world.
You shine with your brilliance,
And you donât know.
Your bursts of laughter
Make me smile.
As always, you are the light
In my darkness;
Your spirit is the fire I feel
In the sun’s warmth.
You were the dawn of my awakening,
And the splendor of my dreams.
And I have cried
For your heart
More than I have ever cried
For my own.
I am torn apart by
The intensity of your pain.
It is profound sadness
I feel,
When I think Iâve reached you
And then hit another wallâŠ
Hard.
I fear losing you forever
To your grief,
As I grieve, too,
For the subtleties
And cues
You donât understand.
Avoiding the eyes of others âŠ
Your intense frustration
In trying to get it right,
And thinking you have it all wrong.
You have it right,
So rightâ
Always did,
Always will.
I only wish you could know
The joy
Of being free.
The tentative smiles,
The looks of uncertainty,
Prompt me to tell you,
You got this.
Youâll be fine.
Whatever the passion,
Let it burn.
It will save you.
Retrieve every shattered fragment
Of your soul.
Accept it,
Embrace it,
Bless it with your peace.
Give it mighty and glorious wings,
And let it fly where it leads
Without fear,
Into the twilight of an infinite sky.
Be happy,
Shine,
Glow.
Love,
Dance,
Sing.
Celebrate yourself
And don’t stop singing
Your life’s song.
The song is your vision,
Your passion;
It belongs to you.
Without it,
You wither and die.
Don’t you, for one moment,
Let anyone crush your beautiful spirit.
Know, too, those who have crushed you
Have been crushed.
Those who pain you have been pained.
Still, you can rise again,
Become completely alive again
And shine on,
Just as you did before all the hurt began.
You are not defective,
My dear one,
Not a burden,
Nor do you struggle alone.
Iâm here with you.
I will always be with you.
You are
In every way
Beautiful.
Though you donât see that,
And you never have.
I just love you.
© Copyright October 9, 2016 by Kyrian Lyndon at kyrianlyndon.com. All rights reserved. No reproduction permitted without permission.
Through forests of emerald-green bliss,
She pranced,
Embracing the colors of endless playâ
The rainbows of summer.
She was a child of the earth.
Her tiny voice sang,
And she danced!
No danger lurked in her twinkling eyes.
Everything in her fearless laughter
Was colored with mirth.
She built castles on the shore
By a peaceful and provident sea
That was never foreboding.
She skipped beneath the golden clouds
Like the world belonged to her,
As if there were no cares
And all who loved her
Would keep her safe.
âDo not lose her,â I said.
âDo not lose that child.
She needs you so desperately.â
And then she had this grave fear of the sea,
This somber foreboding.
It seemed so vast and so deep
From the shore,
A leviathan-green, hellish monstrosity
Full of strange creatures that devoured things.
It was all that lay between her
And some faraway place
On the other side of the globe.
Somehow, it was not so frightening now.
Neither was the past,
The present,
Or all the future obscuritiesâ
Not even those people she once had cherished.
The peace of the waters subdued her now,
As she listened to the thrash of the waves.
She was just playing with a stick in the sand.
There was a noted ambiguity
Whenever she spoke of this place.
Certain moments when she embraced the glorious light
And gazed intently into the darkness.
There were moments, too,
When she felt it creep and crawl around her,
When she ached and trembled,
Longing to free herself from its grip.
While seething within,
She wore the mask of kindness,
Harmless and alluring,
With resentment like hemlock,
Beautiful yet wilting,
Glowing yet tarnished,
Beckoning,
Flourishing,
Standing tall,
And unyieldingâŠ
Toxic to all
In her flowering beauty.
The sun was setting,
Salmon clouds under a sky of dodger blue,
Flocks of geese
On a sprawling lawn.
A waxing gibbous moon
Beckoned
Like she needed a guide,
A divine light.
âCome forth,â it said.
âCome home.â
And some of the fear waned
As she went forth,
But nothing really changed.
She stood alone on the edge,
In darkness,
A faint silhouette
Gazing at the night sky.
Rain fell,
A sprinkler to the trees
Thrashing in the wind.
She would flee,
Abandoning places,
Suddenly unrecognizable faces.
The glowing sun of Helios
Was a beacon
For eternal bliss,
Yet deceiving.
The caves beckoned.
Every corner,
Every crevice,
Held its own mystery,
Its truth.
Still the perilous journey
Was madnessâ
Pretty colors and then
Darkness.
It seemed to have no end.
She heard a child crying,
A child from long ago,
A prisoner of her soul.
Stone walls around her,
Hissing sounds,
Deep, treacherous watersâ
Her mind was a fractured maze.
No one could see.
No one could hear.
No safe place to run,
She had to find the way
OutâŠ
HomeâŠ
Every stone that healed
Brought her closer to
The truth,
The light.
The climb was steep,
But she held on,
Clawing her way
In blindness,
Accepting,
Facing,
Grieving.
Raindrops glistened on the rocks.
Flower petals littered
The wet grass.
She saw vibrant orchids
In the fading light of the moon,
And, alas,
Tranquil waters glistened
Aqua blue.
Like the ancient alchemical goddess,
She was crownedâ
A newborn only beginning
To awaken,
Beginning to see,
Her soul bursting
With bliss.
The beauty within
Became the beauty
Eyes could see,
Not perfectionâ
Courage, perhapsâŠ
Determination,
Defiance,
And love.
She was free.
No jewel could sparkle with
More radiance,
And the years could not tarnish its shine.
From Remnants of Severed Chains 
Copyright October 17, 2015 by Kyrian Lyndon at kyrianlyndon.com.
Are you interested in reaching a new audience?
Iâm looking for blogs, poems, photos, artwork, short stories, even a web series that would appeal to my readers.
The submissions should not be promotional links for your books/work/sites, and I’m not looking for anything that is too graphic. I prefer posts that enlighten, help, and inspire with focus on recovery, coping, healing, and evolving. Pure entertainment is wonderful, too! Humor is much needed and appreciated, as are joyous wonders of the world in art form. Work published on another site is fine as long as itâs your original work, and you have properly edited any text.
Contact me first to discuss whether your contributions would be a good fit. I am particularly interested in people who would like guest posters for their own site, so we can exchange. Itâs not necessary, but thatâs something Iâm definitely willing to do.
If you become a regular contributor, you will get your own tab under the guest post menu, so that readers can find all your posts in one place. A little further down the road, Iâll have a contributor tab where regular contributors can have a more detailed profile, and thatâs where their promotional and social media links would appear. They will also be eligible for âspotlight featuresâ where they can do an interview (audio, text, or video), read an excerpt, or something along those lines. A link to that feature would be on their contributor page.
If we determine that we can work together, this is how it would go.
When you create a blog you think I’d like to share, send me a link. If you want to share photos or poetry, just get them up on WordPress, Blogger, or your website.
I would need a bio and photo of you. If you prefer not to have an image of you, it can be a trademark or something else associated with you or your work. You won’t have to submit the bio or photo for subsequent posts unless you want to update it.
A feature photo to accompany the work is highly recommended either included on the blog or sent as a separate attachment. You must also provide the source for your feature photo so that we can give proper credit to the artist or photographer. If you are the artist or photographer, indicate that. If you are not sure where to find photos you can use legally with proper attribution, I can recommend a couple of sites.
If you have preferred hashtags for sharing, please provide them, or I will tag accordingly.
The posts will go up on my website under the âguest postâ tab. I would copy any text and then link back to the original blog in the copyright notice, which will be in your name, appearing before your photo and bio. Iâll send you the link to your post, and you’d have a chance to request any changes or even change your mind. Once you give your seal of approval, Iâll share it on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Google+, and possibly LinkedIn or Pinterest.
There may be a cutoff period for this offer, depending on the level of interest and my availability, but the posts would likely remain unless you request their removal.
Lastly, I would like to mention that I have created a private community for interesting discussions, exchanging ideas, and supporting others. It would fit in with the community/collaboration environment and could be a lot of fun. If you are interested in that, let me know. Iâm thinking about adding a portal to that site on my website for easy access. Itâs all about community!
Photo by BK, original photo credit Jonathan Combe
© Copyright June 26, 2016 by Kyrian Lyndon at kyrianlyndon.com. All rights reserved. No reproduction permitted without permission.
The robin in your tender heart
Hungers for the red berry
That titillates your tongue.
She carols as the snow fallsâ
And not with the chorus of the dawn
In radiant spring.
What might have been?
Your voice silenced,
The spirit of you
Destroyed,
I see glimpses of your fire
From the light that has vanished
From your eyes.
Your wings soar,
Only not to follow
Your heart.
And your heart is that of
A child,
Deeply vulnerable,
Precious,
So sensitive,
And sweet.
You inspire me
To change my perspective
With your unique vision
Of the world.
You shine with your brilliance,
And you donât know.
Your bursts of laughter
Make me smile.
As always, you are the light
In my darkness;
Your spirit is the fire I feel
In the sun’s warmth.
You were the dawn of my awakening,
And the splendor of my dreams.
And I have cried
For your heart
More than I have ever cried
For my own.
I am torn apart by
The intensity of your pain.
It is profound sadness
I feel,
When I think Iâve reached you
And then hit another wallâŠ
Hard.
I fear losing you forever
To your grief,
As I grieve, too,
For the subtleties
And cues
You donât understand.
Avoiding the eyes of others âŠ
Your intense frustration
In trying to get it right,
And thinking you have it all wrong.
You have it right,
So rightâ
Always did,
Always will.
I only wish you could know
The joy
Of being free.
The tentative smiles,
The looks of uncertainty,
Prompt me to tell you,
You got this.
Youâll be fine.
Whatever the passion,
Let it burn.
It will save you.
Retrieve every shattered fragment
Of your soul.
Accept it,
Embrace it,
Bless it with your peace.
Give it mighty and glorious wings,
And let it fly where it leads
Without fear,
Into the twilight of an infinite sky.
Be happy,
Shine,
Glow.
Love,
Dance,
Sing.
Celebrate yourself
And don’t stop singing
Your life’s song.
The song is your vision,
Your passion;
It belongs to you.
Without it,
You wither and die.
Don’t you, for one moment,
Let anyone crush your beautiful spirit.
Know, too, those who have crushed you
Have been crushed.
Those who pain you have been pained.
Still, you can rise again,
Become completely alive again
And shine on,
Just as you did before all the hurt began.
You are not defective,
My dear one,
Not a burden,
Nor do you struggle alone.
Iâm here with you.
I will always be with you.
You are
In every way
Beautiful.
Though you donât see that,
And you never have.
I just love you.
Feature photo by Amy Treasure
© Copyright October 9, 2016 by Kyrian Lyndon at kyrianlyndon.com. All rights reserved. No reproduction permitted without permission.
Through forests of emerald-green bliss,
She pranced,
Embracing the colors of endless playâ
The rainbows of summer.
She was a child of the earth.
Her tiny voice sang,
And she danced!
No danger lurked in her twinkling eyes.
Everything in her fearless laughter
Was colored with mirth.
She built castles on the shore
By a peaceful and provident sea
That was never foreboding.
She skipped beneath the golden clouds
Like the world belonged to her,
As if there were no cares
And all who loved her
Would keep her safe.
âDo not lose her,â I said.
âDo not lose that child.
She needs you so desperately.â
And then she had this grave fear of the sea,
This somber foreboding.
It seemed so vast and so deep
From the shore,
A leviathan-green, hellish monstrosity
Full of strange creatures that devoured things.
It was all that lay between her
And some faraway place
On the other side of the globe.
Somehow, it was not so frightening now.
Neither was the past,
The present,
Or all the future obscuritiesâ
Not even those people she once had cherished.
The peace of the waters subdued her now,
As she listened to the thrash of the waves.
She was just playing with a stick in the sand.
There was a noted ambiguity
Whenever she spoke of this place.
Certain moments when she embraced the glorious light
And gazed intently into the darkness.
There were moments, too,
When she felt it creep and crawl around her,
When she ached and trembled,
Longing to free herself from its grip.
While seething within,
She wore the mask of kindness,
Harmless and alluring,
With resentment like hemlock,
Beautiful yet wilting,
Glowing yet tarnished,
Beckoning,
Flourishing,
Standing tall,
And unyieldingâŠ
Toxic to all
In her flowering beauty.
The sun was setting,
Salmon clouds under a sky of dodger blue,
Flocks of geese
On a sprawling lawn.
A waxing gibbous moon
Beckoned
Like she needed a guide,
A divine light.
âCome forth,â it said.
âCome home.â
And some of the fear waned
As she went forth,
But nothing really changed.
She stood alone on the edge,
In darkness,
A faint silhouette
Gazing at the night sky.
Rain fell,
A sprinkler to the trees
Thrashing in the wind.
She would flee,
Abandoning places,
Suddenly unrecognizable faces.
The glowing sun of Helios
Was a beacon
For eternal bliss,
Yet deceiving.
The caves beckoned.
Every corner,
Every crevice,
Held its own mystery,
Its truth.
Still the perilous journey
Was madnessâ
Pretty colors and then
Darkness.
It seemed to have no end.
She heard a child crying,
A child from long ago,
A prisoner of her soul.
Stone walls around her,
Hissing sounds,
Deep, treacherous watersâ
Her mind was a fractured maze.
No one could see.
No one could hear.
No safe place to run,
She had to find the way
OutâŠ
HomeâŠ
Every stone that healed
Brought her closer to
The truth,
The light.
The climb was steep,
But she held on,
Clawing her way
In blindness,
Accepting,
Facing,
Grieving.
Raindrops glistened on the rocks.
Flower petals littered
The wet grass.
She saw vibrant orchids
In the fading light of the moon,
And, alas,
Tranquil waters glistened
Aqua blue.
Like the ancient alchemical goddess,
She was crownedâ
A newborn only beginning
To awaken,
Beginning to see,
Her soul bursting
With bliss.
The beauty within
Became the beauty
Eyes could see,
Not perfectionâ
Courage, perhapsâŠ
Determination,
Defiance,
And love.
She was free.
No jewel could sparkle with
More radiance,
And the years could not tarnish its shine.
From Remnants of Severed Chains © Copyright October 17, 2015 by Kyrian Lyndon at kyrianlyndon.com. All rights reserved. No reproduction permitted without permission.
I always made jokes about Valentine’s Day. Aside from getting heart-shaped boxes of chocolate in scarlet red, what could you do on Valentine’s Day that you couldn’t do any other day?
Then again, it sort of celebrates love, and while you can celebrate love every day, and I do, what’s wrong with another excuse to get all mushy and sweet? Besides, life becomes more and more precious, along with every good thing in it, so bring it on.
Let’s start with music. I put together my first YouTube playlist (took forever), and these are some of my picks for the most beautiful, most romantic songs of all time. It was a labor of love for me. If I couldn’t get paid to write all day, I’d love to get paid for listening to music.
Click the menu (those three little lines in the upper left corner) to see the list. I could have added more songs, but I know you don’t have all day. Or do you? đ
Please feel free to make suggestions, too, in the comment box here or on Facebook where the post appears.
And, of course, words without music can be beautiful, too.
I’ll include some poetry at the end, but what about books or movies that are perfect for the occasion? Here’s my list but, again, please feel free to make suggestions.
Wuthering Heights
Casablanca
Gone with the Wind
Sleepless in Seattle
Pride and Prejudice
Dirty Dancing
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Love Story
Ghost
His Girl Friday
An Affair to Remember
Singing in the Rain
Last Tango in Paris
Mahogany
Love & Basketball
Bonnie and Clyde
Cyrano de Bergerac
Lady Chatterley’s Lover
Anna Karenina
A Tale of Two Cities
Rebecca
The Count of Monte Cristo
“Love has no desire but to fulfill itself. To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.”âKhalil Gibran
“Absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones, as the wind blows out the candle and fans the bonfire.”âFrançois VI de la Rochefoucault
“How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said.”âVictor Hugo
“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you … I could walk through my garden forever.”â Alfred Tennyson
âLove never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.â â AnaĂŻs Nin
âThe very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone.ââ Jane Austen, Love and Friendship
“Thus with a kiss I die.”âWilliam Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
Yummly Valentine’s Day Dinner Ideas
Romantic Dinners for Two
Date Night Dinner Recipes
Incredible Chocolate Dessert Recipes
Happy Home Fairy’s Fun Games to Play for Valentine’s Day
Kids Cooking Valentine’s Day Recipes
© Copyright February 12, 2015 by Kyrian Lyndon at kyrianlyndon.com. All rights reserved. No reproduction permitted without permission.
I am excited to announce the release of my second book, Remnants of Severed Chains, a Kindle ebook bestseller in Women’s Poetry on Amazon.
As previously revealed in the cover launch, here is the book’s official description:
Remnants of Severed Chains is a collection of over forty new poems by Kyrian Lyndon, author of A Dark Rose Blooms. This book continues with the same intensity as A Dark Rose, running the gamut of complex emotions that resonate with many. The author explains in the bookâs preface that Remnants is about the process of healing and recovery, the willingness to learn and evolve. Thus, she embraces lifeâs astounding and most personal revelationsâafflictions, addictions and relationships, the good and the bad, capturing lifeâs most devastating moments along with its celebratory moments of beauty and joy. Kyrianâs exceptional handling of language to create vivid images has won her high praise. Rest assured, Remnants of Severed Chains is a uniquely moving experience that readers will enjoy.
In case you missed it, the mesmerizing cover design is by Jah Kaine via jerboa Design Studio.com.
I’ll include the links to buy the book here, and then I’ll tell you how you can win a free copy and other prizes.
To enter my prize giveaway, leave a comment on this blog. If you’re not able to leave a comment here for whatever reason, leave it on the Facebook author page post about this release.
To increase your chance of winning, you can do any or all of the following:
Subscribe to my newsletter using the form on this page
Subscribe to my blog (scroll down the home page on this site for form)
Like my Facebook author page.
Follow me on Twitter. (I will follow back.)
If you like a particular poem of mine , let me know.
Tell me one thing about YOU, i.e., your favorite book or poet, your favorite show or movie, what you love more than anything, what you’re ultimate goal or biggest dream isâŠ
Please let me know in the comment you post, what you subscribed to/liked even if you did that before reading this blog.
I provided all the links to help you above, but if you have questions/problems subscribing, etc., message me, and I’ll help.
Prizes include:
Print and Kindle versions of Remnants of Severed Chains, t-shirts, bookmarks, gift cards, and books by other authors including:
Paul J. Hoffmanâs true crime novel Murder in Wauwatosa: The Mysterious Death of Buddy Schumacher and
The Sockkids Help Ben Franklin by Michael John Sullivan.
I just got word, too, that author Laurie Kozlowski would be happy to send these titles to any winners of the giveaway:
The Broken Collection (2 books) by Rachel Thompson
Dying Dreams by Katharine Sadler
Tennessee Waltz (3 book series) by Bella Street
Serendipity Summer by Laurie Kozlowski
Those are some great books, and I am honored to include them all. Thank you Mike, Laurie, and Paul!
If you’re an author, and you’d like to be part of the giveaway, let me know, and I will add you to the list. You can donate your book after we announce the winners.
Thanks for participating. Have fun!
© Copyright October 17, 2015 by Kyrian Lyndon at kyrianlyndon.com. All rights reserved. No reproduction permitted without permission.
I am thrilled to unveil the cover of my  latest poetry book, Remnants of Severed Chains, which is due out in less than two weeks.
The amazing cover design is by Jah Kaine via jerboa Design Studio.com.
Here is the book’s official description:
Remnants of Severed Chains is a collection of over forty new poems by Kyrian Lyndon, author of A Dark Rose Blooms. This book continues with the same intensity as A Dark Rose, running the gamut of complex emotions that resonate with many. The author explains in the book’s preface that Remnants is about the process of healing and recovery, the willingness to learn and evolve. Thus, she embraces lifeâs astounding and most personal revelationsâafflictions, addictions and relationships, the good and the bad, capturing lifeâs most devastating moments along with its celebratory moments of beauty and joy.
In the poem âWhat Might Have Beenâ, she writes:
The robin in your tender heart
Hungers for the red berry
That titillates your tongue.
She carols as the snow fallsâ
And not with the chorus of the dawn
In radiant spring.
What might have been?
Your voice silenced,
The spirit of you
Destroyed,
I see glimpses of your fire
From the light that has vanished
From your eyes.
Your wings soar,
Only not to follow
Your heart.
Whatever the passion,
Let it burn.
It will save you.
Kyrianâs exceptional handling of language to create vivid images has won her high praise. Rest assured, Remnants of Severed Chains is a uniquely moving experience that readers will enjoy.
Cover design by Jah Kaine via jerboa Design Studio.com
© Copyright October 12, 2015 by Kyrian Lyndon at kyrianlyndon.com. All rights reserved. No reproduction permitted without permission
D.K. Sanz 