#hacks
I noticed that the thumb downers are back
or perhaps, they never did leave
vidictive and shallow, no comment to say
no brains and/or wit, up thier sleeve
No words and no reason
they have no purpose, that I can find
each and all on a negative bend
weak in prose, and in mind
Given the chance, I'd retort
if confrontations were to be set
a poetry battle, against the unarmed
as thumbdowners would be losing....that bet
Apr 7, 2025
Apr 7, 2025 at 8:28 AM UTC
The straighten nail gets hammered deep and uneven shaped nail gets it through half way.
Oct 25, 2020
Oct 25, 2020 at 3:31 PM UTC
I'd much rather die a poor man rich in wisdom
Than a rich man poor in wisdom
Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 2:01 PM UTC
*HP sycophants
Why would someone prop up hacks
Idiots praising*
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 2:09 AM UTC
Simple, smallish thoughts,
Held so high by the clueless,
. . . Now trend on HP.
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 8:32 PM UTC
HP's "best" writers . . .
Banal sheep in wolves clothing,
. . . Only make lambs bleat.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 12:31 AM UTC
HP sycophants . . .
Why would someone prop up hacks?
. . . Idiots praising.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
Two ****** loving each . . .
In lieu of gnats and peacocks,
. . . Pathetic poetasters.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
Fraud identities—
Hack poets praising themselves,
. . . Wait for accolades.
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
The sad part is that most of us, writers,
are almost ashamed to say it out loud.
We do it like a bad habit we can't escape.
****** junkies with the leash around our necks.
Treat it like a disfigurement; our
malignant entries spread like cancer from
under our pathetic, hypocritical hands.
We're sad.
Depressed.
"Heart broken".
Angst ridden.
Jaded.
Coping.
Coping.
Learning to cope,
but often failing.
Stepping on each other;
a sea of cadavers with
no bottom, surface, or center.
Full of brilliance/ brighter than the sun.
Collectively, we are a diamond made from ****
A uselessly expensive commercial good,
nonetheless.
The next Bukowski will be a child molester,
or a sociopathic spree killer. Too bad
no one wants to be the great writer of course.
What greater shame could there be?
What bigger embarrassment could exist?
What insult and tragedy is more than being
a writer?
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 3:47 AM UTC