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I thought when I first wrote Poetry it was the release of Woe in me, but for awhile I see my style and who I write for my audience of One, but, Bullies, pull the woolies over eyes that sheepishly turn away, look away, look away, I had a teacher once who that thought by giving me D's and E's in English and jokingly add in front of the class... "Hey Elverum you got one of your two initials, wanna hazard a guess?" When I was in the Army, had an MWO, who was nick named the Wicked Witch of the West, as his features made you feel like Dorothy, in the Land of Oz and because "there's no place like home"                        "there's no place like home"                        "there's no place like home" So it is with sad attention I see there is a bully Here, here, said the judge, jury So there should be, because poetry Is not about the freedom of Expression, through speech, it is about Grading and wizardry and being numero Uno a legend in his own Mind my manners mind my tongue Words that are spit like salvo's Not marshmallow's with hard hearted centres Poetry is meant to be read If I ask for your critique Would you send me a bill Or just your ill will, toxins Instill your commanding presence on the Young and the new, who dare To bad mouth you, your just One, how does it feel to be so alone like the sound of one hand clapping as you dashed another soul to the rocks below the belt with svelte wit But alas, I only write for An audience of one, you ain't IT.
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Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC
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I thought when I first wrote Poetry it was the release of Woe in me, but for awhile I see my style and who I write for my audience of One, but, Bullies, pull the woolies over eyes that sheepishly turn away, look away, look away, I had a teacher once who that thought by giving me D's and E's in English and jokingly add in front of the class... "Hey Elverum you got one of your two initials, wanna hazard a guess?" When I was in the Army, had an MWO, who was nick named the Wicked Witch of the West, as his features made you feel like Dorothy, in the Land of Oz and because "there's no place like home"                        "there's no place like home"                        "there's no place like home" So it is with sad attention I see there is a bully Here, here, said the judge, jury So there should be, because poetry Is not about the freedom of Expression, through speech, it is about Grading and wizardry and being numero Uno a legend in his own Mind my manners mind my tongue Words that are spit like salvo's Not marshmallow's with hard hearted centres Poetry is meant to be read If I ask for your critique Would you send me a bill Or just your ill will, toxins Instill your commanding presence on the Young and the new, who dare To bad mouth you, your just One, how does it feel to be so alone like the sound of one hand clapping as you dashed another soul to the rocks below the belt with svelte wit But alas, I only write for An audience of one, you ain't IT.
MWO - Master Warrant Officer In quotes from the Wizard of Oz there are many of those who give honest critiques, but please Write poetry if you are the poet you believe yourself to be. People will critique here, that is part of being an open site, people will comment here that is part of being an open site, you can wear it, or throw it back, the number of poems someone does does not necessarily make them a poet, it means they send a warning, it means they may care, it means they are getting paid to fill the feed, so in that one be aware, it means they are retired and want to spend it here, whether they are in Arizona, or a cheap flat in Pittsburgh (sorry Pittsburgh Poets), did you invite the critique or offer them a cheek, or are they just an angry one, with so much baggage tied to once was a vital career, and being an open site they bully every one here?  Sadly not everyone who writes poetry is a poet, and not every poet, writes poetry every time, so keep writing and let the words fall where they may, read out loud the sounds of the words, to they take the shape of your heart, make your soul visible, burn the crucible hotter than the edge of the lake, called the Abyss, who ****** in his corn flakes anyway?
darrell-wade-elverum
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Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC
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