#pro
*
Now that my first book has been published
And I received my year-end earnings report
I want to quit my job and write professionally full-time
The only problem
Is figuring out how to survive on seven dollars a year...
*
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 8:12 PM UTC
Pro isn't just short for professional.
Each letter represents a skill needed
To be considered a professional.
P is for persistence.
For every one time someone says yes,
Many no's will come before.
Especially early in your career.
But if you have the patience,
The passion,
the heart to follow through,
You can make your dreams come true.
R is for respect.
If you don't respect people
And their criticisms,
Nothing will happen.
If your coworker or investor doesn't
Respect you, however,
Don't be afraid to walk away.
O is for out of the box thinking.
If you can't find a solution
for a problem in a creative way,
It will be much harder to stand out.
It's good to take risks as long as you
Understand the potential consequences and accept them.
Good luck in 2021
Jan 6, 2021
Jan 6, 2021 at 8:48 PM UTC
I realize I am
evil,
crazy,
depressed,
broken,
scarred,
mean.
People give me the titles
"Evil ******
"Stupid."
"Insane *****
"Violent Girl."
People have started to drift away from me...
They have done this because,
I am crazy
I am depressed
I am violent
I am not your average girl,
people tell me,
"You have to shave your legs."
"You have to act like a girl."
"You have to be weak."
I hate my life because of these people
but,
My friends that I have left say...
That I am,
Nice,
protective,
brave,
helpful,
smart,
and funny.
They call me,
"A Helper"
"A Good kid."
"A Sweet child."
Some of these people have only known me for a year,
some for more than a year.
They have done this because,
I am smart,
I am helpful,
I am kind.
They tell me,
"Keep trying."
"Stop cutting."
"Laugh more"
These people shape me and I realize my pros and cons,
I have had a realization.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 9:35 PM UTC
Even in the dark hours this gal is gone.
Where could she have gone?
Tempting me to bite off more than I can chew.
She leaves me vacant and blue.
Many saints have joined the cause like the huddled masses.
Buckle down all that moves just as you fasten in the molasses.
They laugh just to avoid a disaster.
Like wind from a ghetto blaster.
For on this night she seeks something great.
Something that grows mold and takes up the plate.
But where has she gone today?
Come and gone like the summer rain.
Has she taken it that far again?
For all the years I spent.
She is out there living it up in the sunny sky.
While me and the others sit idly by.
She is also living those nights great.
If she wants to make this date do not be late.
Here is a secret only the closest would know.
They will deliver the decisive blow.
She will bask as a social pro.
Climbing and climbing until she gets to the top.
One day she will be talking so much her head will pop!
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 9:31 AM UTC
I don't know what to do
I am stuck in this gap
its hard to move forward
or backwards
im trying to choose between
him and him
him one
pros
nice, funny, calls me cute, noticed me
cons
distant, innocent, awkward
him two
pros
cute, nice, funny, and some notices me
cons
seems ***** all the time, clingy, its always wyd
they both notice me and i don't know why,
i'm not cute
i'm not funny
i don't attract any similes
i attract stares
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 2:47 PM UTC
a room full of men
making laws for women’s bodies
making the first choice for them
when will a woman’s choice
actually become
a woman’s choice?
why should men first decide
whether we get the choice at all?
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 4:46 AM UTC
I speak for those with prose
Not for the entertainment
of published trolls
We bare our thoughts
Our opinions
Our feelings
Our truths
Our ideas
Our souls
Because we choose to
Because we need to
Because we have to
Because we want to
We don't want to be famous
We don't want to be judged
We don't want to compete
We don't want to speel check
Our grammar is correct
Our diction is correct
Our styling are correct
Our poems are perfect!
Because that is how
we intended them
to be
We love them
JUST THE WAY THEY ARE!
Feel free to judge us
It is your god given right
But, keep your criticisms to yourself
Unless we ask for it
As you read these written words
You hear every single syllable
Echo in your head
You are now telling this to yourself
Thank you for listening
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 5:50 PM UTC
Anything All of the Everything
Events of Summer quickly ensue, it takes hold of you quickly, while the police drive thru. You cannot find it half-way into the night, you could hold up on a park bench or lay your blanket on the slough. Perhaps when your dreams kick, your asterisks will come, build a map of your defense and then head for the sun. Some foe outwit the wounds of life, furry blister-like faces, when they take up the star dust diamonds, the trail guides take after hurrying up paces.
The festivities of fear are living oaths inside of marbled starve rocks, they harvest shoots and ladders, and keep tabs on wild beasts and livestock. There's no match throughout the campgrounds. There's no matchbook light to find us. If you're quick enough with your 70s, then perhaps you'll follow the nightness that's arrived us.
In aide of her lift-gate, shredding pensive miens and speeding mimes, taking ward of one thousand fathomed depths, assumes courageous anti-hate isms. She can come quickly with a syzygy, her van packed with fresh woes of Sunday, then around Monday humbly hides her stuff in the small hems of her bed linens. You can't outwit the governess who preys on handicapped children's thrift finds. She makes clothes and keeps her hands to bed. She bares new graves for time's new roman epithets and moving pictures. She unplugs her bleeding tongues under some new sone for her monarchic archetypical audiophile party.
While the umberphiles sleep, nyctophiliacs stalk grizzlies. Mosquitos quaff at human blood, while their offspring keep drinking. The idle bugs throes, misanthropic and useless, teach electric lusters' mouths to grow into fiery hoops with which to slip past all the clueless. The arachnids might dance, the haunting verbs they might fray. The Egyptians at first glance, try to hide their heroine pyramids away.
So hush little violet dormant flowers, fake your fertility and keep your skeptic drink. Keep each one you might meet, within one hundred feet of where you sleep. Keep your arms length's supine, your supplies out of reach, practice wrapping yourself up inside boxes where the souls can sleep.
If you only once catch a fool, avoid the plague-speak certain lips might tell. Each uttered word commanded with too much ******** across the bandwidth. Mortal courses can't be taught, human voices can't keep the draught, ferocious abstract engineered humanity has escaped this truant absence and immorality. You, you catch a fool, she could preach hurts and djinns, it could dot the I's of when, and unfurl the sighs of men. Berthed earthlings that the **** ascribes, hurts the worthless and sours true purpose widths of curfews and its curses, all these biomes perfervidly reserve the fury for their furtive perversity, elements to obscure the telemetry that has coddled such a dark conflagration of immensity, it's the cluelessness of these transgressors that forces the abhorrence towards all-white-everything professors.
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 1:43 AM UTC
Haters don't hate you. they hate themselves, because you're a reflection of what they wish to be...
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 5:05 AM UTC
Pro-rape?
I hope you're pro-behind bars too cause that's where you're going.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 2:18 AM UTC
I HAVE FINALLY RE-EDITED AND FINISHED MY FIRST BOOK, FROM CRO MAGNON TO PRO AVERAGE MAN: AN ASSORMENT OF POEMS!!!!!
Well, I have officially made my first book of poetry. The book is entitled From Cro Magnon to Pro Average Man: An Assortment of Poems. This was the first time I ever attempted making a book, and finally I have pulled it off!!! I made this book through the website: www.bookemon.com. Just a few minutes ago, I actually published the book on Bookemon for the whole world to buy! So, if you’ve wanted a copy all along, are interested in reading it now, and/or just want to help me keep chasing my dream of becoming a known-poet by paying for the book, YOU CAN!! Here’s what you do:
You go to www.bookemon.com
You enter “From Cro Magnon to Pro Average Man” into the search bar in the upper-right hand part of the screen.
When you hit “Search,” my books should pop up!! MY books! I actually made it.
There are two types of the book. A hardcover and a softcover version. It will say which version is which under the title. The hardcover version sells for $28.72, plus tax. And the softcover version sells for $18.07, plus tax.
If you would be so awesomely-amazing to buy a copy, just hit ADD TO CART, Then scroll down and hit PROCEED TO CHECKOUT. Hit CONTINUE under GUEST CHECKOUT, and enter your information there.
NOW, I KNOW THE BOOK IS KINDA PRICY, BUT BOOKEMON SETS THE PRICES THEMSELVES. MY APOLOGIES.
Or, if you don’t have any money to spend and just want a little preview of the book, you can hit READ beside the book and get a free 20 page preview!!
Again, thank you to everyone who has supported me through this long process of self-publishing my first book of poetry. And thanks in advance to anyone who is willing to buy the book and actually does. THAT WOULD MEAN THE LITERAL WORLD TO ME.
Thank you all again. Now I have all my time devoted to the continuing and making of my second book, Pocket Change for Priceless Memories. It’s coming soon!!
Thanks again everyone!
Nick
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 11:32 PM UTC
I don't know where we went wrong. If you look at a person wrong,
You can wind up in between his sites. The danger a gun presents.
The best thing one can do is kiss themselves goodbye.
Of course, we always find people gunning down innocents.
In the news, in media. Why not increase gun sales? Why not
Spread fear and panic around about terrorists all day?
Sure we aren't the ones here bringing all the death,
Part of the cure, not the disease. Whatever they say!
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 4:16 AM UTC
Eighteen years old with a big ego.
But I can't love myself - that's a big no.
Who the **** have I become? I don't know.
Now I look just like them - from head to toe.
They got me all ****** up - I'm real low.
Got holes in my plans but can't forgo.
Gotta fight for the real me - can't let go.
Cause fake people can't tie me down no mo'.
I'l rise above and watch them burn below.
As they trade love for hatred - quid pro quo.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 1:43 PM UTC
honestly
the thought of a boy
being all googly eyes over me
sounds great
but
the thought of a boy
crushing my heart
when he is done with me
isn't so great
the thought of a boy
being by my side every time
I need his voice the most
sounds like a blessing
to my young soul
but
the thought of that same boy
calling me names
when we are out of love
hurts me more than
the break up
of our
love.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
Anorexia is not collar bones.
It is the smell rotting of flesh as you dismantle your body bit by bit.
Anorexia is not a thigh gap, it is your knees so weak they shake as you fall to the ground.
Anorexia is not self control. It is the feeling of utter hopelessness as your life tornados into a blizzard of nothingness.
Anorexia is not fashionable. It is your mother’s sobbing eyes as she sees her child dying
Anorexia is not 80 pounds. It is the weight of a thousand pulsing suns on your shoulders.
A thick black cloud in your mind, and rules spelled out like chains pulling you towards the ground.
No matter what measure of gravity that you have in this earth, it still hurts, it’s still real.
So to you 'pro anas' who so blindly say 'hunger hurts, but starving works' think before you act.
Suffering is an addiction, please do not harm yourself with this affliction.
- Emily Ward
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC