

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...


Andre Lamartin
- Dec 9, 2016
No Silence So Loud
The loss of a mother, what can account, for an absence so great, a silence so loud... The meaning of love, I learned as a child. She...


Andre Lamartin
- Dec 8, 2016
Tomorrow May Never Come
If children symbolize the future, tomorrow may never come. Many will be denied the right to celebrate their next birthday. According to...


Andre Lamartin
- Dec 8, 2016
Lost Stars
Are we all just lost stars? Incandescent and bright. Strangers by distance, siblings by sight. Wondrous, majestic, sources of light....


Andre Lamartin
- Dec 6, 2016
My Very Own Lotus Flower
She was delicate as she was pure. She was beautiful as she was quiet. Not a tulip, not a rose, my very own Lotus Flower. From a pond she...


Andre Lamartin
- Dec 6, 2016
Um Coração Aprisionado.
O amor é a imensidão da vida. Aprisioná-lo em verso uma ilusão. Não há métrica nem rima, Que possa conter o meu coração. Não há palavra...