Andre Lamartin
Jun 29, 2017
1984
A gelid world of silent strangers, Where the heartless pass you by. Wasting time a constant danger, Truth and meaning morbid lies. A...
Andre Lamartin
Jun 29, 2017
What Dictionaries Cannot Define
Life may be a masquerade ball for some, but costumes are sewn for special occasions, not for daily use. Experiencing the prosaic as...
Andre Lamartin
Jun 28, 2017
An Ocean of Intangibility
Time is an ocean of intangibility flowing all around us. It is perceptible to every human sense, particularly vision. We contemplate time...
Andre Lamartin
May 28, 2017
The Twilight of Words
A writer only ceases to be when his heartbeat is permanently silenced. For as long as there is life in him, there will always be words...
Andre Lamartin
May 26, 2017
Limitation of Light
When you’re a kid, you don't know anything about the world and you're blissful because of it. Then you become a teenager and still you...
Andre Lamartin
May 25, 2017
Bleeding Writers, Healing Words
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” I respectfully beg to differ Mr. Hemingway. Only artists...
Andre Lamartin
May 17, 2017
Apollo Was His Name
The radiance of the sun, a ray of light, a golden dream. He arrived a quiet morning, and only sunshine did he bring. Happiness for all...
Andre Lamartin
May 14, 2017
The Gift of Nature
In nature we find what is lost, A peace that comes at no cost. Freedom so priceless and pure, Walls become hard to endure. Serenity that...
Andre Lamartin
May 11, 2017
A Place to Call Home
To find your place in this world, the home where you belong, takes the courage to make mistakes, and the perseverance to right what’s...
Andre Lamartin
May 8, 2017
The Reason Is Always Mine
Having known enough of Death, I have come to realize, though the time and place be his, the reason is always mine. I hope to die as I...
Andre Lamartin
May 6, 2017
Andre Lamartin
May 3, 2017
À Mulher Amada
Meus anos foram tão sofridos, na vida fui tão machucado, peço a Deus que me perdoe, amar foi o meu pecado. Meu coração não é como os...
Andre Lamartin
Apr 30, 2017
Invictus
In the past I’ve taken liberties, changing verses, changing lines. Molding this poem into my creed of divine justice and eternal light....
Andre Lamartin
Apr 27, 2017
One Library to Rule them All
One invaluable educational resource the world urgently needs is a global online digital library that provides high quality, free and easy...
Andre Lamartin
Apr 25, 2017
Facebook Farewell Letter
Dear Friends, As of May 1st, 2017, I will no longer use Facebook for social media. This is not an act of selfishness. It is an imposition...
Andre Lamartin
Apr 24, 2017
What a Child Can Teach a Politician
There are words so ignominiously offensive that they ceaselessly reverberate in the chambers of you mind, shaking the very moral...
Andre Lamartin
Apr 21, 2017
Andre Lamartin
Apr 20, 2017
I Choose to Believe
We are more than the sum total of our senses. The abyssal depth of the human soul cannot be explored and understood solely through the...
Andre Lamartin
Apr 18, 2017
The Soliloquy of Rage
Are words limited in what they can express? Can the true meaning of rage any word possess? Rage against a world that wants us to accept,...
Andre Lamartin
Apr 15, 2017
In Memoriam of Alan Kurdi
I feel the pain of the world. I hear the children scream. I see a war that never ends. I speak of peace as just a dream. I taste greed...
Andre Lamartin
Apr 14, 2017
What Will Our Future Be?
Vasili Alexandrovich Arkhipov. You probably never heard this name before, but you owe this man your life. During the height of the Cuban...
Andre Lamartin
Apr 13, 2017
The Temperature at Which Freedom Burns
The present is just one link in the seemingly endless chain called history. The World Bank has just published the latest calculation of...
Andre Lamartin
Apr 11, 2017
Who Stands If Freedom Falls?
The rise of the direct brain-computer interface has epochal implications not only for our concept of human rights, but also for the...
Andre Lamartin
Feb 18, 2017
I am not
I am not the sum total of my mistakes, A past ever so present and incomplete. Believing that a true heart never breaks, Was a crime not...