Post-it notes are a breath of fresh air
The remind me that I should care
Of things little and big
Like my dreams of buying a wig

They seem to be the epitome of innocence
But at times, they ooze wicked essence
Intentions are what post-its are about
The truth it is, without a doubt

They look fancy even when stuck to a tree
Or when thrown on top of a pile of debris
When pen touches paper, on its journey does the post-it embark
Like pollen, may it cross the seven seas, stuck to a majestic lark

Post-its in and of themselves are quite sad
'Cause most of them are but reminders of resolutions gone bad
It's existence is nothing short of poetic
Except when used for cheesy love notes; then it's just pathetic

Warm pieces of the soul
Torn asunder willingly
To feed the cold ego

They say that God lives very high;
  But if you look above the pines
You cannot see our God; and why?

And if you dig down in the mines,
  You never see Him in the gold,
Though from Him all that’s glory shines.

God is so good, He wears a fold
  Of heaven and earth across His face,
Like secrets kept, for love, untold.

But still I feel that His embrace
  Slides down by thrills, through all things made,
Through sight and sound of every place;

As if my tender mother laid
  On my shut lids her kisses’ pressure,
Half waking me at night, and said,
  “Who kissed you through the dark, dear guesser?”

Dear Betty Ponder,

I write to you cause you say poetry site fun and so cool.
You say poetry site for people who try hard to write poems.
You say when I join you see me stay put for a long time.
Read mean *** poems, read ones who they say borrowed
but me say so uncool and teaches 101'a of word robbery.
Need you to whisper or post one of your don't go speeches
like soon cause later I be deleting account like permanent.
Still think you one cool talented lady but this poetry site
is making beating head against walls be good times.
Wise one always say "Takes only one bad one to ***** it up!"