I don't remember when the **** my poetry became about pleasing people or getting votes or views.
I don't remember when my writings were only created to be approved by a friend.
I don't know when things became about success or money.
I don't know why it turned into pleasing a lover.
But as soon as it did become about those things, I lost my spark, and suddenly writing was a chore.
I'm done with burning in my small spotlight with nothing flowing on paper,
I just want to be free.
It's time I get back to writing the way I used to.
For my emotion. For my passions. For myself.

I wouldn't be bothered
such to give half a ****
about to whom we choose
to attribute credit,
withstanding, of course,
that the Idea, itself,
is attributed, at least,
it's due recognition.

Women
can endure childbirth,
yet some Men call them
'the weaker ***.'

How arrogant!

Even still,
Women who opt
to be sexist in return
be no better:

Yin and Yang
are interdependent.

Thou shalt not blindly accept
"truths" passed on by others;
accept only those sacred truths
found within your own Self.

"I don't feel so great.
But, then again,
I feel, and
the pain is not insurmountable.
So, how bad is it, really?"

Step back,
yet,
be present;

too many
do
only one at a time;

the trick, though,
is to do both at once
and, to do both
continuously.

You mustn't
always interject,
for it is not more auspicious
to be considered a Fool
than to affirm such suspicions,
is it not?

Defer unto thy knowledgeable peers
and, if ye be Sage among the Like,
thou shall be deferred unto.