Skip to main content

How to select relevant electric & tech expos?

Businesses working at the intersection of electricity and technology often benefit most from hybrid events that cover innovations in both sectors. ExpoTobi makes it easy to browse fairs where electrical components meet IoT, AI, and renewable energy topics. Each listing features organiser info, exhibitor categories, and sector highlights. This helps align attendance with product launches or partnership goals.

The Thrill Of Late Summer Part 2 (Other Poetry Form)

Ah days of golden strands, moss-rimmed swirl tides,
recede as once relentless summer march,
of sunshine hordes, childhood zest, and clogged shores,
may seem a blurred azure skyline treasure.
for  chilly margins of dark grey season,
but yet undaunted a challenge relished,
at the cusp of seizing ventures ahead,
of deadline, that last gasp summer fragrance,
green blade fertile meadows at vivid dawn,
loss of inhibition before the fall

The Grande Blue

The grande blue assails me forth
I have nor rhyme nor rhythm
The waves crash to endless froth
White plumes that sign beginning

I shall start here on the shoreline
And I shall never end henceforth
I shall be the endless, the void-less
The chain-less, the-

grande world

I shall see the eyes of God
In the million creatures there lie
I shall return to the bright blue
Only to submerge into it's trenches-

Where a million stars there shine
Where I am free, God, free
Free from you, from gravity

Love threads

They say the language of love is written inside us, Woven in threads of red and blue. The red thread runs deep, Pulsing with fire, surging life from the heart to every corner. We feels in the warmth of a hand held too long, In the quickening breath when eyes meet, In the restless ache of wanting someone you cannot forget. The blue thread flows the other way, Cool as midnight water in winter, Carrying the day's weight back to the heart to purify. It whispers in the hush after a storm, Carrying the ache of words left unsaid, Yet with quiet peace of knowing that the heart still waits. It is the

Styx

Black waters—
deep and dark and still.
All men have passed this way,
or will.


Published by The Raintown Review, Poezii (in a Romanian translation by Petru Dimofte), Blue Unicorn, Poem Today, Brief Poems and Form in Formless Times. 

Stalking Death

I rummaged through the ancient ruins
and scoured the carnage of our times.

I scanned the infinite realms
of the firmament,
Searched the scorching expanse
of the arid deserts,
I peeked into the crevices
of the broken hearts
and probed the dark domains
of the deranged minds.

I looked in the ashes
of the funeral pyre,
I ransacked every nook and cranny
of the cemetery
and forayed into the desolate womb
of the barren woman
But I did not find death.

I then looked at the first flush of spring
The rising robust sun

Subscribe to New Poems