Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
You think you can just shove words down my mouth?
You think you know who I am?... What I believe?
You just love making my struggles known don't you?
Throwing daggers at my heart makes you grin... You love judging me, making SURE in falling apart... At least I'm falling in the right direction..
Im the first you look for to blame, threatening me with your sickening power.. You never sympathize,
I swear you enjoy my pain!
L Smida Jan 2012
One quiet night, I sit at my computer watching the curser blink on the screen as I am pondering upon what to write about. All is silent as my mind is running free, but the silence is broken by an instant message. The message is from an anonymous writer. The words that were sent to me say "Meet me at the park in 10 minutes."  Nervous chills crawl up my spine.  I respond with the words "Whom am I speaking with?" but the anonymous writer had signed off before I got a response.  Millions of questions race through my mind, I make my decision whether to go or not. Something in the back of my mind was telling me I should go and see who this anonymous writer is.
So, I throw on a dark hoodie and put the hood up.  I look in the mirror and I say to myself "Here goes nothing."  I slip out the window and head for the park. Its dark and creepy walking alone on this wet and windy road but I'm not going to turn around quite yet. Even though this isn't the safest area to be walking around this late at night, my mind was focused on what was going to happen. The park is only a few blocks away. I see it in the distance under the street light. I approach closer and decide to sit on the swings and wait. Silence filled the cold air and after waiting five minutes, which seemed more like an hour, because my curiosity was driving my feelings wild. I actively scan for anybody who may be walking near by, but I could see nothing.
Suddenly a sound struck through the air and I felt my phone in my pocket light up. I pull it out to see who in the world is texting me at this hour. The number is unknown and the words read, "I see you."  I look around nervously but see only darkness beyond the street light. So I reply, "Who is this?" As I hit the send button, my ears open up to see if I can hear any ring tones in the silent air around me. There’s nothing to be heard besides for my phone receiving another text that reads "Don’t be scared." So I think for a few seconds with my mind full of many different thoughts. Should I be scared? Should I be worried? What’s going to happen to me? Should I not be scared? All these questions bolt through my wondrous mind. I couldn't make myself get up off the swing; I sit here with my nerves all in knots. I see a figure stand up in the far distance across the street and it’s making its way over to me. I can’t tell who it is. All I can see is a silhouette of a human walking over to where I sit. The figure now stands before me and I stand up so we can be face to face. The anonymous writer is pulling its hood down, my eyes open real wide and my nerves are crawling around inside of me like ants on a piece of dropped unwanted candy. The truth is about to be revealed. The light coming from the street light shines on the writers face to show the ****** features. My jaw just about drops to the floor, as a major shock jolts through every inch of my body. The anonymous writer just so happens to be a girl, a pretty girl as a matter of fact. We look each other in the eyes for a moment with many different thoughts flowing through our minds trying to tell what each other is thinking.
The look in her eyes calms my nerves. Then to break the silence, I ask her if she would like to swing on the swings with me. She replied with the sweetest of voices "Sure." and that word danced around in my head over and over again till we started a conversation. I wipe the rain water off the seat of her swing with my sleeve so she could sit down comfortably.
She said "I knew you would show up!"
"You really gave me a scare." I said in a hushed tone.
She said "I told you not to be scared."
"I know, but it was all just so nerve racking. It was hard for me to focus. This isn't too safe of an area."
"True.  Are you okay now?" she asked.
"Yea, I’m fine now" and I gave her a smile.
She giggled "That’s good. I wanted to meet you but I wasn’t sure how, and I wanted it to be memorable."
I laughed and said "Well this is memorable alright."
"Sure is." she said.
My hands are beginning to sweat as our conversation continues. She stops our conversation and takes me by the hand and leads me to the street. Holding hands, she tells me that she wants to go for a walk. While we walk in silence, with each step, I am getting more and more paranoid about my hands. I glance down at her to see if I could tell what she was thinking about.
Then she looks up at me with her big pretty blue eyes and giggles gently when she says "Your hands are sweaty." My heart just about stops and I swallow deeply. Then she giggles some more and says "Its ok, I like holding your sweaty hand." and she grips my hand even tighter and cuddles up closer to me as we walk. We continued walking a few more blocks and I asked her "Where do you want to go?"
She replied "Anywhere."
I thought for a second and said "..Piggy back ride?"
She smiled the biggest smile and hopped on my back. I carried her to my secret spot where I lay and look up at the stars.  I set her down so she could get a better look at the place.  She told me that this place is beautiful and I mumbled a few words under my breath.
"What?" she asked curiously.
I said "You said this place is beautiful, then I said just like you." and with that said, she dove into my arms and we both fell to the ground. She cuddles up next to me and we laid there to gaze up at the stars for quite a long time. I look over at her and her head lay close upon my shoulder.  Her eyes are closed and I whisper to see if she is awake "Hey, are you asleep?" but there was no answer.  She continues to lie there so peacefully.  I lay my head back down and stare up at the black night sky.  Just as I was dozing off, I felt her sit up and pull her phone out of her pocket. The bright screen lights up her face and she answered it "hello?" I sat up and listened to what she was saying. She hung up and said disappointedly "That was my sister. She said that my parents are home and they are looking for me. So I have to go."
"Okay. Well, can I at least walk you home?" I asked
She said "Sure, but we have to be sneaky." She looks at me for an answer. I look at her and I put my finger over my lips and whisper "Not a sound." She smiled at me and we started walking. Once we reached her driveway, we hid behind the bushes looking through the window to see if her parents were sleeping yet. No sign of them anywhere.
Her eyes are looking at me and she whispers "Can I tell you a secret?" I nod my head and she asks "Are you sure?" I nod my head once more. She leans in and touches her soft lips to mine. As gentle as it was, it was mighty powerful. I could have sworn that time had stopped for that moment when our lips collided.
I look deep into her eyes and say "Your secrets safe with me." and she smiles, gets up, and goes inside. I sit here on the ground behind the bush just thinking about all that had just happened. All at once this one major subject came crashing into my mind. I forgot to ask her what her name was! I couldn’t leave without knowing her name. I pulled out my phone to text her, but it was dead. Then I notice a light that had just turned on, on the second floor of her house. So I grab a tiny stone and throw it at the window. I’m still hiding in the bushes just in case it isn’t her room. I wait to see if anyone comes to open the window, and she did. I jump out and she looks down at me and says "What are you still doing here?"
I look up at her and say "I don’t know your name?"
She says, "I dont know your name either."
"My name is jeff."
She laughs and says "Goodnight" and closes her window.
Confused with what just happened, I look at the ground and kick the stones in disappointment. I start walking away. I look back at her window to see if she’s going to come back but no luck. I head home and climb in the window that I had climbed out of earlier. I put my phone on charge. Then I take off my hoodie and cuddle up in bed. As thoughts fill my mind, I slowly drift off to sleep. A few hours later, I was awoken by my phone vibrating on the desk beside me. I rub my eyes and reach over to see who was texting me. It was that girl! The text read "Let’s meet again tomorrow." I reply "Ok. What time?" she said "Afternoon."  I type back a smiley face and fall back asleep.
As morning arrives, the sun peeks through my window and wakes me from my slumber. I check my phone and there’s a text message waiting to be read. It says "Meet me at the breath taking place where we star-gazed last night." I look at the clock to check the time. Its 11:11, I make a wish about how I want this day to be the best day of my life and I want nothing to go wrong. I jump up out of bed and trip over the phone cord, and I also hit my head off the ground to give me a huge head ache. I say to myself "Well, I better start getting ready if I want to get there by noon." I can’t find my hoodie, I can’t get my hair the way I want it to go, my dog chewed my favorite pair of shoes, and there’s nothing to eat. I’m beginning to think that my wish was left unnoticed. I’m not going to let these little mistakes get in my way. I put on my other pair of shoes and hurried out the door. When I get to the place where she told me to meet her, she’s sitting down in the grass facing the opposite direction of which I am coming. I sneak up behind her, put my hands around her eyes and ask "Guess who?"
She grabbed my hands and guessed "Jeff."
"How did you know?"
She replied "Your sweaty hands gave it away."
I laugh and ask her "What do you want to do?"
She answered "Swim!"
I point toward the lake. She nods her head and says "Let’s go!" We reach the shore line and I take off my hoodie and my shirt. She says "Wait, I have to put my phone somewhere so it doesn't get wet!" She takes my clothes, my phone and her phone and heads up the hill a little bit and sets everything down. I walk to the edge of the dock and look out across the lake. I turn around to see where she went and I see her running full speed in my direction. She screams and tackles me into the water. As we come up for air she puts her arms around my neck and slips me a gentle kiss.
"What was that for?" I ask.
"I like you." she replies nicely.  
We goof around and have a lot of fun. We swim toward shore and then realize there’s nothing to dry off with. We lie in the grass to soak up the sun, as we both are lying very still and quiet.
I ask her "What’s your name?"
She opens her eyes but doesnt look at me.  she looks up at the sky and says "When the time is right, I’ll tell you my name."
So then after she said that, I lay my head back down and to let the sun dry us both off. I stood up and gave her my hand. She took a hold of it and I helped her up. I let her wear my hoodie because it was getting quite cold outside and clouds were starting to form. As we walk along the road, I felt a few rain drops. We both start to sing and dance. Puddles started to accumulate in the holes of the road. We jump in all the puddles while we dance. Getting rather tired from all the action, I take a seat on the curb of the road and I watch her gracefully dance around like an angel. She walks over to me and gives me her hand. I grab her hand and she pulls me up. She puts my hands around her waste and holds my head. Our lips meet as the rain falls down upon us.
Our lips let go and she ventures off again to splash in the puddles. She left me standing there speechless. She comes dancing back and asks "What’s the matter?"
I say "Nothing."
"Well, there has to be something wrong if you have that lost look on your face."
"I'm just wondering where you came from. You came out of no where and completely changed my life."
"Is that bad?"
"No, not at all. Don't be silly. There is nothing bad about you at all. It's almost as if you were perfect."
"Awe. Thank you." she said
"You're welcome."
Soaking wet we continue on our journey. A car drives past and splashes water up in the air. I hold onto her to protect her from the muddy drops of water. It didn't really do much because we are already drenched with water but I felt like it was the most polite thing to do at the moment. The car pulls over to the side of the road and stops. The window rolls down and it’s her father. He orders her to get in the car. She gives me a sad look and awkwardly waves goodbye. I watch the car drive away and I realize that I am in a wet t-shirt and I'm pretty cold. She looks back at me through the rear window of her father’s car.  I wave gently to show that I saw her looking. I head on home and I hear my pocket ring. I pull out my phone and read the text from her "I’m sorry."
I answer "It's okay."
But I don’t get any response from her. I get home and get on the computer. An instant message pops up on the screen. It says "My dad took my phone."
I type "Awe, why?" and then hit the enter key.
"Cause I don't listen to him and his rules. I won’t be able to stay on long because my dad is going to disconnect the internet. So say anything you have to say right now before I have to get off."
I think real fast and say "I love you."
Then she signs off. I’m left here unknown of her thoughts. As night falls, I get the idea to go to her house. It’s still raining a little bit so I put on a hoodie and head out the door. I get to her house and I look for a tiny stone to toss at her window. I grab one and throw it. It hits the window and makes a quite ping sound.  She must have heard it because she opens her window and looks down at me. She mouths the words "I’m sorry."  I put my finger over my lips "Shhh.."  She leaves the window and I try to see what she’s doing. She throws a rope out and climbs down. I stand below her because the rope isn’t quite long enough. I tell her that I would catch her if she happens to fall. She lets go and falls into my arms. She grabs my hand and we run away up the street. Both of us gasping for air, we have to stop to regain strength. We sit in the wet grass and I put my arm around her "Is it the right time to tell me your name yet?"
She sits in silence just starring at the ground.
I look at her and say "I got this necklace and to make it special, I wanted to engrave your name in it."  I dig into my pocket and pull out the necklace to show her. "See, my name is here and I want your name to go there" the necklace reads "Jeff ♥'s ...."

I'm sitting here inspecting the necklace and I begin to hear weeping.

"Why are you crying?" I ask calmly, but no answer.

I ask again once more "Are you okay?"  I started to panic but then I realized that panicking will only make things worse.  So, I scoot real close to her and I let her rest her head on my shoulder.  

After a few moments, I whisper "Shhh. Don't cry. Pease, tell me what's bothering you."  Then I whip away the tears that fall from her eyes.

She finally replies "Okay, but you're going to think that I'm crazy."

"No. I would never."

She takes a big deep breath and lets it out real slow then says "I can see the future."

"Well, did you have a vision?" I ask.

She nods her head.

"Just now?"

"No, a while ago."

"How long ago?"

"While we were looking up at the stars the first night."

"Was it not a good vision?"

She shakes her head side to side.

"What was it about?"

She points her finger towards me.

I swallow hard and ask "How accurate are these visions that you have?"

"90%"

I become very nervous and shaky "Well, what's going to happen to me?"

She tries to hide her face from me but I won’t let her. Then I realize that I am handling the situation all wrong.  I let go of all my fear and settle down in a very calm manor. I can feel water leak from my eyes and run down my face.  When I try to hide them, more tend to roll down. I can't control my tears and that’s when I said "I don't know what you saw in your vision but now that you've told me, you've only raised my curiosity to know.  You don't have to tell me because what ever happens, happens. Nothing can change. But if you tell me then maybe there is something we can do to try and dodge the bullet."

After I let the word bullet come out of my mouth, she started to cry even more.  So, that sent me a little hint but I still wasn't exactly sure what was going on.

Then there was a sudden interruption.  It sounded far away but it was the sound of bad brakes on a car.  As soon as we both heard it, she put her head up real quick and said "It's them."

"Who?
Frightful abilities were pressured into
responses as the computer children
failed at hitherto reliable performance.
This was a description of the synchronous
effect brought into the shudder with a
catch in the breath of the mother,

and written by frenetic action that
destroyed the logical sequence of requests
presented by the mouse and the typing keys.

As directed through an esoteric process of
recovery, the minds of the device reoriented,
again attaining the ability to perform simple
and repetitive tasks as obliged by designated

prompts.  There was no certainty this was not
related to the telephone connection which
picked thinking out of the air like a television
receiving a network broadcast.  In the same

way, the exhaust pipe rambled as the engine
of the truck idled too rapidly and, then,
stalled.  Everything was restarted.  The vehicle
operated right away.  The computer bumbled
along flashing through scenes and blank screens,
the curser pulsing like a heart beat in the upper
corner.  This had to be worn like a sign of
concentration, meaning that the (citizen, computer)
was being observed, and the sensitive response
would be, literally, automatic, but sometimes
the potentiometer brought, to sight, a gesture
of communication.  It was cute that such clever
trinkets were hiding down in there until the

spirit tapped the muscles of the shoulder blade.
It became apparent this relation depended upon

keys found in ancient aliens such as arcades and
magic books.  A tiny soul was stored in a pocket,
in the telephone; it reached out with its vibration
and launched into the world to grab news with
its operating, search engines.  It had eyes and
could see in the dark.  So, the age was over in
which it could be expected that photographs were
the result of special manners and the courageous
offer of friendly snapshots.  As torches confused

ferocious animals, the excuse depended upon dark
difficulties in the chemical room.  In the garden,
the televised betrayal generated a crossfire of live
video, and, thus, fools were unlucky.  Energy and
conflict had been misguided.  New, public devotion
protected the evolution of tableware or discrete
implements that chimed to be taken into other rooms.
Discourse was enabled and following discursion,
long, private moments carried visitors away.
Abigail Madsen Nov 2013
;
I'm tired of seeing books with pages left blank
I'm tired of seeing no dedication page giving thanks
Life is a story
Not something to give up on halfway through because the vocabulary gets too hard
I'm tired of seeing covers that are scarred
Because there are certain passages that should be starred
There are signs
Exclamation points and pauses in words on a page
Tired of parents being forced on a stage
To read the could've been story of a child who couldn't take it anymore
In this day and age
Every book should come to an end with no pages left to be filled
No blank white paper left at the end
Waiting for lines that will never be written in
Because nothing is sadder than
when a child's story ends with a period in place of where a semicolon could've been
Would've been
Should've been
But wasn't
Because nobody cared
Because this kid was scared
I'm tired of seeing hurt plastered on someone's cover
And the damage and look of distress goes unnoticed because no one has the time or ******* decency to take the book and read it for a little
Not one second to stop and patch up the fraying edges
This needs to stop here and now
Because I can't stand to see one more story end with a smoking gun
dangling body
With words spoken at a eulogy
I'm done watching lives
Turn into shorts stories
No more bodies burried in the dirt
Stop letting stories come to an end
When all that was needed to keep it going was a friend
But instead you're left staring
A blank page
A blinking curser
the lights of a hurse pull in
A young body
Withered and thin
Waiting for the after life to begin
ECKate Oct 2013
Had I pen instead of keyboard I might shred the paper out of bittersweet anger
drab thoughts, remorse
I'm a zombie, just a corpse.

Had I pen I might let the ink bleed ,
unsure of my thoughts and what I might say, instead the curser blinks away

Had I no intellect to stay silent,
I would try to interrogate, scream, just to understand.
I guess that's just what a woman sometimes gets from a man.

This is a bad hour; emotions drained beyond the waking norm.
Disappointment reads thick in thoughts,
each ticking moment set it in,
without means to rewind the clock. stop.

but had I brakes, I might have used.
Might have thought it through
On how cliche , might of thought of what this could do.
It is what it is he did say,
And all along I knew.

© 2015 Kate Volk
Brother Jimmy Aug 2015
+++



Tongue, curser, kisser, blesser,
Hold thyself firm and still,
Enough! Insulter, and confessor,
For cruel and bitter you can be,
Away with thee, arrogant professor,
Professing truths you think you see,
Fumbling clod, ye ought be acquiescer


+++
Claire Ellen Feb 2013
i am strong in my faith,
i am strong in my personality.
i am strong in my body,
i am weak in my views,
persuade me easily.  
i am weak in my head,
use me easily.
i am alive in my spirit,
i am alive in the summer.
i am alive and breath air,
i am dead to the world,
no one knows me inside and out.
i am dead in the winter,
the cold shuts me in, leaves the cold out.
i am this and i could be that.
i am sleepy at night, and awake in the mornings.
i love the music when i'm happy,
i hear the words when i'm sad.
i want to live,
but i live with ghosts.
i want to grow,
but i grew my height in 6th grade.
i am a worshiper,
i am a curser.
i do what i want,
and usually dont think first.
but, you still don't know
who i am.
taylor bush Dec 2014
I sit in front of the computer
with my hands on the keys,
not typing anything.
I am at a holt.
I have writers block, I guess you could say.
My head is at a blank,
just completely empty.
I type a word, then erase it.
I look out the window, then back at the screen.
I type another word,
a new word, a different word.
I read it over again and again.
Then I hot backspace,
and it's gone,
just like all my thoughts,
like every idea I've ever had.
My page is blank, my curser blinking,
my cursing increasing.
Maybe I shouldn't be a writer,
maybe I should try something new,
take up something else.
Something else just to fail at,
to not succeed.
That's my biggest achievement
and my greatest pet peeve.
Abigail Madsen Dec 2012
Staring
Starting
Waiting
A blank screen waving
Can't think
Wont write
I can't do this tonight
Type
Write
Delete
My piece to complete
Words
Can't find a rhyme
I don't have the time
Got nothing
Curser blinking
Still thinking
'...'
Haven't posted in a while, its quite ******* but, you know. Enjoy(:
james nordlund Nov 2018
Betwixt our better and worser angel's voices in our heads

That aren't, nor curser, for our inner candle's always lite

So we don't curse the darkness, weeded, bring forth from

The Earth more, demanded by our roots, feet, hands, score.

Solutioning with reality is always diluting or concentrating.
Topological energetic relational reality, as any and all life are relation, furthers   :)   reality
Liz Devine Jan 2012
New heart
Old heart
Fused together so perfectly
The torn pieces
The frayed
All sewed and mended
But not new,
No they wouldn’t be, would they?

I am sitting here
At 9:39
At night
In the cold
Chilling silence
Of my childhood bedroom

A place of pain I forgot to abandon
And I’m feeling manic
Enraged and enticed
By foggy drunk memories
Of your soft tangly hair
In my mouth
And between my fingers

But this poem isn’t for you
My peach
My perfect pear
(but isn’t it always really
about you, my love?
Don’t you live forever
In the back of my mind?)
No
Not now, I won’t think
I can’t think
I’ll just watch the curser
Flashing curiously at the top of the page
And dwell on how unutterably
******,
my life has become

My life
With it’s twists and turns
It’s cruel little jokes
I am a punching bag for the universe
I am the teacher
The one the boys learn to be better from
Only to practice on soft
Untattered
Unbroken women

Those who can’t do
Teach
And I can’t do love.
One computer, two computer
Three computer, four
Shed a tear of happiness
As five comes through the door.

The last one was demented
Made life a living Hell
Devised new ways to torture me
And did it oh so well.

This new one is an iMac
Just like the one before
But maybe not as crazy-
I can’t take that any more.

The only thing I’m asking:
That it do as it is told.
Don’t make new rules in secret
Leaving me out in the cold.

Leave the curser where I put it
Don’t erase what I type in
Don’t correct my unique spellings
That is not a game you win.

Don’t crash just as I finish
Some complicated rhyme.
Erasing all my poetry
Would be a major crime.
ljm
The continuing saga of iMacs with minds of their own.
CJ Sutherland Apr 2018
Please excuse me I am not one to rant and rave
I need to vent some frustrations I crave
My patients are ****** beyond belief
This sites’ flaws are a thief
I have have lost parts of poems two completed ones as well
Written on the cuff
It’s a nightmare a living hell
The perfect poem lost in time

This is a unfortunate  crime
I hope you all learn from my pain
Write it out so your original remains
Lost the  sentence are easy to fix
But disrupts the flow creating a new feel mix
That’s not always a good thing first the curser drops Down
Several lines then the fun begins its happening now
Making corrections hard to manage
I know this site is free is it just me
I have know poets to leave in the past
Pleaset tell me these problems will not last
Or I fear more poets will be a thing of the past
I love the people on this sight
But posting is a constant fight
RhettlvScarlett Aug 2019
I believe her every word
here, there and everywhere
written spoken or silenced it's the truth!

Her surviving courage skill
a lesson of good and evil to all
in the face of cowardly
cold blooded assassins
demonizer slanderers
human predators

This beauty is my best friend
I am so blessed
my sister my doved eyed
an in and out beauty-rest
my beauty poetess is

much revered here in heart
her open minded nature
my inspiration she is!

This surviver was noones fool just hurting cornered and alone
in denial stunned
sacrificing all
for the ones she loved
So this lady parrot phrased
your culprits E-mailed
nasty notes  
cursing her mother birthing her!

thats all shes done wrong
to pay for it for lifetime long
is hellish travesty.

In the arena of the masked
the covert world of mirrors
granted a few final words
where compensation
she never sought!

My lady friend poetess
re-builds no sand castles to bridge no past disconnections

in this masked faceless cyber
H.P mirror
bridges tend to re-surfice spontaneously
unmasking key facts
completing past puzles
left unanswered

mis-sunderstanding innocent victims of crimes then left behind is very cruel.

It's induced evil fate
collapsing golden bridges
widening gaps
not even a two cent charity
for her pain was ever saught!
much less cash burried
a bank account could have help trace beloved kidnapped
How can someone valued so high
a genie in a bottle
not be protected
your lying significant other covert culprit
snake-eyed jeweled
is anchored to your bank
not to your heart.
no peaceful land!

No such viper's name can your heart carve
your master bed-room
slide
has no tender grace

your picture painter
a Mom's nightmare ****** killer
shes is all yours to keep.

O I am only messanger on free will
platonic friendship
wins this beauty's trust.

friendship I offered gladly
no study subject intended
and these words are my own
my educated guess at best

yes knowing her
in and out beauty
is loving her!

Understanding her
is trusting her
this in and out beauty

her banner's of honor
is true love and to sacrifice her happiness for the benefit of all
even her enemies.

I remain loyal kneeling at this beauty's feet
whom you left behind
heartbroken trashed cursed

just to go romance
wine and believe
the bone fish stonefish real fool
cursing your beloved d M birthing her
insult she simply returned
to her the curser
not meant for you
oh why couldn't you ask
who sent that garbage to your beloved dreaming of you in that magestic bedroom downloaded copied and published
just to find you,
it hurt deeply
your Mom once called her your dignificant other  
you now call wife.
=========
By: RhettlvScarkett
Reviced 03/20
I am a better bridge I unmasked and gave her protection and emotional support. Inspired and written for a great poetess on her true life events writing skills. Very fond of Karijinbba
CJ Sutherland May 2018
I have written on other
Poetry sites
As this one you
have to be invited
For the right

There are issues with this site
Freezing word lines ,curser going
Haywire
Unable to fix your errors
However

I have also noticed
When you offer critique of  a poem
that you feel is great
  Admire Even
Yet you see a little tiny
thing that could suggest
To be looked at by the author

Your jumped on by someone
And band wagon begins

Poetry on other  sites
you must make
Two critiques on the poem
and one on the title

It’s all about working
Together with fellow writers
Of verse and proses

A site without helping each other
Is  only about posting for practice
Nothing else
People are too sensitive

Writing with blinders on
Does not allow for growth

It’s all a matter of perspective
people don’t mean
criticism negatively
they are just  honestly
trying to help
but then others
take it wrong
feathers get ruffled

And out comes mr. nasty
Giving a poem thumbs down
REALLY IS THAT  necessary
Just don’t read or write on it
Pass it by

If  you want to get published
advise should be welcomed
Surely rejection letters are
Not the end goal

When one is not able to
here the reflection
In one’s voice
it’s difficult to determine
Friend or foe

just let it go
It’s not worth the effort
only have good intentions

It’s all a matter of
Perspective
Those who  make negative comments of a poem or comment are not contributing in anyone’s best interest I have taken to private messages with my suggestions who needs the drama
CJ Sutherland Jan 2018
Has anyone else noticed
Posting problem
After awhile the page
does not work properly
I have to post in draft then
Return to make changes
The line curser act crazy
Or is it just me
Inquirig minds wamt to know
I know of one fellow poet who left
Because of such problems
S Feb 25
my old friend, Im not sure much has changed
what else did i expect
from myself?
from life?
from others?
i don't know
i-

there's so much i want to say but at the same time i find myself silent
i find myself zoned out
seeing the curser blink every so often

-

why am i always hurting
why does it always feel like i'm on the other side of everyone else
why am i always begging
it feels like everything that i want demands my blood, sweat and tears and even then it's not enough, i still don't get it
i mean **** it, i don't even want or need half of what i want
i just
why does everything feel so difficult for me???
raw and insufferable complaints

— The End —