“He liked to rhyme
And was fond
Of women
And wine,
And sinning.
Now he has gone beyond
Women,
And wine,
And sinning.
And he is out of time
For rhyme”.

Any of you authors out there – has anyone ever gone with the Hay House Publishing arm, Balboa Press?

I have been in conversation wit them but don’t know much about them and if it is worth it. Has anyone had experience with them, or has anyone avoided them for any reason? Thanks in advance if anyone can help.
Lorraine

It came to me in a flash that when I die, the whole world will come to an end; not just for me, but for everyone in it, as far as I’m concerned.  Now, I’m not a great one for philosophical thinking: existentialism, for me, might as well not… er, well… exist, but I do find it slightly comforting to know that the whole universe can only exist for as long as I am in it.  When I cease to be, everything ceases to be.  Unfortunately, from the same view point, it will never have been in the first place – so, not much point in keeping backups of everything on the computer is there?

If this all seems uncomfortably close to the I can’t see you, therefore you can’t see me view of a child playing Hide and Seek, well, that is entirely consistent with everything that…

August is hot as lust.
I was born in January
And in me you see
The soul of winter.

I have a splinter
Of ice in my heart.
My poetic art
Is January. and hot August.

No man can outrun the sun.
But birds sing
In the spring.
And winter’s splinter is my art.

I am delighted to announce that my new poetry book, Behind Closed Doors, is available on Amazon as an ebook. This book includes some of my cake artworks that were designed to share a specific message about lockdown, overuse of technology, global warming, and plastic pollution.

The Blurb

What goes on behind closed doors: in the boardroom, after death, in the home, during lockdown, and in nature? This collection of poems, ranging from rhyming verse to twisted nursery rhymes, captures the emotions and thoughts people hide behind the masks they present to the world.

A teaser

You can listen to my poem, Achieving tranquility here:

Amazon US

Robbie Cheadle Amazon Author Page

Lucifir came for a potentate bold.

He said “you have had power and wealth untold,

Now you must render me your immortal soul”.

The potentate sighed,

And made reply,

“My soul it died,

you will find nothing inside.

It perished long ago,

And vanished like the summer snow.

Once I had ideals,

and yearned to build utopia in green fields.

I have waded in much blood,

And sacrificed the weak for the common good.

My soul you had long ago.

I take your hand,

Now let us go”.