Thursday, July 04, 2002

 

On My Desk




On my big old chunky clunky desk I have my computer stuff: PC, monitor ( a Gumby stands on top of the monitor) , keyboard, (Under the keyboard is a ‘Asterix the Gaul ’ place mat which printer, mouse, modem, subwoofer, speakers. There’s a drinking glass, A 60 watt reflector light globe, vitamins, deodorant, an unused sachet of Asian Thai Red Curry Instant Soup Mix (use by date 2/12/03):(Ingredients when reconstituted: wheat, egg, milk and seafood (prawn) as indicated in bold type. Noodles (wheat semolina, whole eggs, turmeric salt) vegetables (tomatoes, onions, snow peas, red capsicums), potato starch, sugar, salt, beverage whitener, (glucose syrup solids, milk protein, mineral salts (339,450), emulsifiers (471,472 (c)), chicken, prawn extract, coriander leaf, paprika, flavour enhancer (621), vegetable oil, flavour (contains wheat, milk solids), maltodextrin (from maize), garlic extract, cumin, yeast extract.)

Hmmmmmmmm, flavooour enhaaancher 621!

Three CDs:

CD 1: Dean Martin: Everybody Love Some Body 20 Golden Greats


"Everybody loves somebody sometime,
Everybody falls in love somehow
Something in your kiss just told me
my sometime is now.

Everybody finds somebody someplace
There's no telling where love may appear.
Something in my heart keeps saying
my someplace is here.

If I had it in my power
I would arrange for every girl to have your charms
Then every minute, every hour
every boy would find what I found in your arms.

Everybody loves somebody sometime
and although my dreams were so overdue
your love made it well worth waiting for.
For someone like you."

(Everybody loves somebody is written by Ken Lane (music) and Irving Taylor (words). -

CD 2: The Brian Setzer Orchestra: The Dirty Boogie.

CD 3: Devil’s Children: Hellacious Sixties Punk Rarities (copy 389/500)

Fav tracks:

The Allusions. - I Gotta Move a wild feedback infested track.
The Flies- - Tell Her That I agree with the liner notes, “ this is superb moody beat”
The Throb- Black. Jangly, atmospheric, gritty, grimy, and cool. They look like heathens.
Toni McCann with the Blue Jays No- once again I agree with the liner notes: “Hard to believe
That (raunchy) voice emanates from a fifteen year old girl.” A ravin r&b number.

A packet of cigarettes (Your smoking can harm others. Government health warning.

Five books

Book 1:The Wide Window by Lemony Snickett:


“Toi!” Sunny shrieked. The youngest Baudelaire was only an infant, and like many infants, she spoke mostly in words that were tricky to understand. By “Toi!” she probably meant, “ I have never eaten a peppermint because I suspect that I, like my siblings, am allergic to them.”)

Book 2: Marcovaldo by Italo Calvino

The joys of that round and flat vessel, or lunch-box, known as the “pietanziera, consist first of all in its having a screw-on top. The action of unscrewing the cover already makes your mouth water, especially if you don’t know what is inside…

Book 3:Buffy The Vampire Slayer: Night Of The Living Rerun by Arthur Byron Cover
Buffy became pensive. “You know, if you put together the changing social and political of the colony with the people’s view of a world where the devil and his demons were actively conspiring against them-then the Salem Witch Trials were almost inevitable…

Book 4: Black Venus by Angela Carter
Sad; so sad, those smoky-rose, smoky-mauve evenings of late Autumn, sad enough to pierce the heart. The sun departs the sky in winding sheets of gaudy cloud; anguish enters the city, a sense of bitterest regret, a nostalgia for things we never knew, anguish of the turn of the year, the time of impotent yearning, the inconsolable season. In America, they call it ‘the Fall’, bringing to mind the Fall of Man, as if the fatal drama of the primal fruit-theft must recur again and again, with cyclic regularity, at the same time of every year that schoolboys set out to rob orchards, invoking, in the most everyday image, any child, every child, who offered the choice between virtue and knowledge, will always choose knowledge, always the hard way.

I will tell you what Jeanne was like.
She was like a piano where everyone has had their hands cut off.

This is a story in simple, geometric shapes and the bold colours of a child’s box of crayons.

Book 5: A New Path To The Waterfall by Raymond Carver

Sunday Night

Make use of the things around you.
This light rain
Outside the window, for one.
This cigarette between my fingers,
These feet on the couch.
The faint sound of rock-and roll,
The red Ferrari in my head.
The woman bumping
Drunkenly around in the kitchen…
Put it all in
Make use.

There is also a glass coffee jar which is a little more than half-filled with coins, a set of keys to a house that I lived in five years ago, a bottle of Fanta, a pile of papers: receipts for bills that have been paid, bills that have to be paid, writing fragments, ideas, rough drafts, things that I’ve downloaded then printed off- stories, poems, articles, essays etc from ezines and various sites, a clock radio which is jet black with a bright red led display, the radio sounds like crap, And 2002 astrology guide book which I’m going to throw away.


Monday, July 01, 2002

 

I Remember Sports Day



When I was a kid at school, I used to say a prayer every night before Sports Day.

I prayed for fires, floods, earthquakes, plagues of locusts, anything so as that Sports Day would be cancelled.

But no matter what I promised God in return for him granting me this favour, much more often than not, the next day would turn out to be a perfect day for sport.

I would awaken to hear the birds chirping, and see the sun shining. Tears would well in my eyes and there would be not butterflies but bats in my stomach. I fuckin' hated Sports Day.

I went to school at a time and place when and where sports were enjoyable only if you excelled at them. If you were mediocre, they sucked to varying degrees, and if- God forbid- like me you were totally hopeless at them, they were a nightmare.

Week after week, year after year of not being picked for any team, and then having to suffer the humiliation of being assigned to a team by a teacher-with the refrains of

"But we don't want him, Sir".

Or

"Do we have to have him, Miss"?

ringing in my ears was not a confidence or self-esteem booster let me tell you.

Nowadays, it is considered un 'PC' to say that a guy runs or throws 'like a girl’ and mean it as an insult. Back then you could say that and worse. Both students and teachers could yell at the top of their voices that someone was running or throwing like a
'spastic' and no one would even bat an eyelid, it was normal, it was accepted, and it was fucked.

After I had my apotheosis at 12, I decided that I would rather get canned than do sport. And so from 12 to 14, I received six cuts of the cane, once a week for not bringing my sports clothes to school. I would also have to pick up papers around the school yard with the other sports haters.

More often than not, I would leave the school grounds via the extremely out of bounds, off limits, if you're caught down there you'll be suspended, if your caught down there smoking you'll be a expelled, if your caught down there pashing one of girls from the girl's school, you'll suffer an eternity of infernal damnation creek.

Yeah, I went to an all boys Catholic school that was separated from an all girls Catholic school by a creek that was polluted and infested with water rats as big as cats, hypodermics, and all other unsightly and nasty business. Even as a kid, I saw something poetic and tragi-romantic about our separation by that creek. Many a boy and many a girl feel into that creek.

But I didn't have to cross the creek to get out of school grounds. I just had to make I sure wasn't caught. I'd go past older students who were smoking, drinking, looking at porno mags, past a boys who has their tongues down a girl's throat (or sometimes another boy's-- but then, especially at school- that sort of thing was usually hidden.) his hand either down her top or up her skirt. On occasion, I caught a glimpse of some girl giving some boy a headjob, but only a glimpse. I'd walk past all that to freedom.

Too early too go home, I make my way to the Promised Land, that place of comfort and joy. The place that is cool in summer and warm in winter- the local library. I would pluck a book, any book, from a shelf; sit in this great big comfy chair and begin to read.

Bliss.

 

Fat People Are People



I was one of those people who could do nothing all day but eat junk food and remain thin. But then in my mid twenties my metabolism changed and 'over night' I became 40 kilos overweight. I remained so until my early 30's until I went on the 'unemployed, depressed, always stressed about money' diet. I'm not exactly, 'skinny' but I'm nowhere so FAT as I once was. I'm 'chubby' I guess.

But, 'fat' like 'beauty, I've learned, is in the eyes of the beholder. I am sure that there are people who would see me as really fat whilst others would see me as a bit plump.

So, I've been skinny, fat, and just right' And so I know that fat people are discriminated against. One cannot overtly discriminate against race, creed, or gender. But fat discrimination is pretty much open slather.

And this is not just the rantings and ravings of an embittered person. It is backed by objective scientific studies done by social scientists around the world.

All else being equal, a thin person will be hired before a fat person And the thin person gets better performance appraisals and is usually promoted before a fat person.

If a company downsizes and it comes down to firing a fat or thin person, guess who gets fired?

If a fat person and a thin person commit the same crime, The thin person is much more likely to get off with a warning or a fine.

And whereas 'society' and the 'media' are often blamed for the plight of the anorectic being fat is seen as the person's own fault. Studies have shown that this belief is held, at a subconscious level, even by many of the social/welfare workers, nutritionists, doctors, and psychologists who are working in the fat person's favour.

If you are fat and not 'jolly' people take an instant dislike to you. They automatically think that you must be stupid and lazy, they look at you with pure hatred whenever you dare do something such as eating an ice cream in public.

I could go on and on, but instead I’ll leave you with this:

http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&lr=&ie=ISO-8859-1&q=fat+discrimination&btnG=Google+Search




Sunday, June 30, 2002

 

80 Ways To Look At David



Some comments, criticisms, and other things that I have received from others re: my writings and me:



1 ahhhh, my dear little ass boil, but you as well know these "comedies" to which I refer ( although even I did not have the stomach to refer to them as comedies...that my demonic little eunich was your claim alone to bear) Therefore, being male(?) and knowing of these estrogen driven, snivelling excuses of entertainment and acknowledging it freely throws you screaming like a blinded vampire into the light of harsh stupidity and utter judgement. AND RIGHTLY SO! Base....vulgar.....Well, I never (burp)!! May you rot in a pool of your own rank stench.


2 and how long have we had psychotic episodes?


3 Call it my contrary nature, but this poem did little for me than give me a superfluous chuckle. I feels clever,well worded, clicks in my head (a good thing) , and strikes me as empty…


4 Crap!


5 Daaahling, neo-post modernistic dadaesque deconstructional minimalism is so spring 1999. You really must catch up.

This summer is going to be about miniskirts and neo cubist confessional in black, white and purple.

6 Dave, my poor little sexless english prof. I have but one thing to say to your stinging critique....a headstand in donkey matter is far superior to standing too close to you when you speak


7 Disgusting, but funny, David


8 Egads! I'm the first to read this one and comment? Well, yes some women are actually programmed to believe that they deserve to be treated that way. I, however, wouldn't put up with it. Interesting.


9 Excellent writing, David. I'll thank you later for my forthcoming nightmares. I didn't miss the bright side of this piece; it's just that the negative is often more memorable.


10 For the love of god, at least try to make it scan.



11 Forgive them, David, for they know not what it is they do...

I find it curious that the Christian concept of evil is associated with a sort of almost animal ignorance, whereas Socrates postulated that evil is "a great intellect gone bad," i.e. malice.

Which is worse, not knowing that what you are doing is hurtful, or not caring? Neither state, to me, seems reparable. To move beyond ignorance requires a capacity for self-analysis and "room to grow." To move beyond malice requires nothing short of a conscience. I think people are born with a conscience, but many have it destroyed by abuse, television and other environmental factors somewhere along the way. I am starting to think that once it is dead, it is gone forever. This is why (in my mind) serial killers do not express remorse, for instance. Once you have lost any and all respect for the life force, you cannot regain it. I find I am losing mine as time progresses. With my cancer, I keep thinking, "It's only life, a small thing, really. A silly thing." Maybe it is not the smallness of life that gnaws at fundamental questions, but the hugeness of mortality.

But you have let me ramble on for far too long.

David, you have a beautiful, sensitive soul. It hurts to be so awake and aware and achingly alive when the world is full of horror, full of pain. It is brave of you. It is unbelievably generous.

This is my thank you note.



12 Even for the open minded, race relations are tough.Thanks for sharing. This is an untouchable topic for most.



13 For you from me: "notes from the slut in me" i lick my lips and touch my thighs and my fingers mingle disobediently at my pussy and mother nature secretes her lubricant and i am moist and well on my way towards an orgasm... i need an audience i need a stranger watching, listening, sweating, glistening, i need him rising i need you i wonder about the pleasures that allow me to taste myself... when i am horny it doesn't matter whether i have a cock in my mouth or a cunt in my face so long is my tongue is ready, my mouth watering my lips anticipating naughtiness in my mouth- it doesn't matter whether you are pulling my hair, spanking me or screwing me from behind or thrusting your cock in my ass- i want it i need it and you must give it to me. when i am horny and wet i want to feel cum dripping out my ass down the sides of my mouth running out between my thighs... i want to lick your balls while you cum and caress your tip with my tongue and place my lips around your head and suck until i am forced to swallow and until you are shaking, floating, and high from sex and an orgasm, and then.. i want to cuddle up at your waist and fall asleep with your dick in my mouth


14 God bless you David, it takes a real man to write what you have written. I applaud you



15 *grin* you rock, and are way fun to spar with.



16 I am not pmsing believe me if I were this would be a different story altogether. But, thanks for being a pig and giving me reason to tell you to go to the fire ridden depths of hades where your leisure activites shall include having your head (whichever one is applicable) chopped off, eating your own crap, and watching reruns of designing women. blessed be thy fate,



17 I dig this. I love the sarcastic tone, it's intense.


18 I do believe that all of us will be interested in the responses you get from this. This is the funniest thing I have read in a long time. Your logic is astounding if a bit misguided....lol. I can't wait to hear more from you.

19 i don't feel pink anymore so for now on this is my font color..okay? any way..i'm writing because it's been awhile or seems like its been awhile since i've heard from you...hope you are okay... thinking about you and keeping you close to my heart(as if i a had a choice anyway=))



20 i don't know why...i've avoided answering the "little truth about me" for so long...i apologize...maybe i shouldn't have told you but once i started writing, i couldn't stop even though i secretly didn't want to tell...i am sorry i didn't mean to offend you or ruin your mood...i am now eating my words.. i hpe i didn't ruing your mood too much...please have a good day, just forget about me, seriously, just forget what i told you and forget about me...



21 i enjoyed this, it was chaotic



22 I feel a bit unsettled responding to this, since it is really not my business, but I have two thoughts. My first thought is that you have a beautiful soul since you are still capable of feeling intense pain. Even the crumbling of my marriage could only seem amusing and ironic to my emotionally impaired sensibilities.



23 If I owned a shovel, I’d be pitching your style over my shoulder. Very precise….but I feel like I should slap you, man. What’s with the ending….? …You can’t end this piece like you haven’t aged…the only thing I know bout you now is that your sexually mal-adjusted… come on, rub some antiseptic on that thing, and let’s do it again.



24 I have explained already to you David, that my comment meant I like to see someone express their true feelings and not be someone they are not. Whether it should have been posted I guess is your decision.



25 I have to admit, my initial reaction to this was “ugh-‘shock’ poetry”. Don’t care much for art whose main purpose is to be ‘contarian”. To get in people’s faces to upset them.

However when I got to the last three lines-I could see that was not your intention…I like this poem . A lot. The irony and the touch of vulgarity…it might even benefit from more vulgarity…there is such a fine line between painting a picture and just being ponographic.



26 IF he is totally fictional, then you have done a great job making him sound real!


27 If I want dialog, I will go to the movies.



28 I have tried to be optimistic with this prose, but eeekkk! I have read about sixty of your pieces (in the past week) and have enjoyed nearly everyone, but this is far below your potential. I agree with X this is elementary. I like the idea of X, but I believe X did it best; unless you believe you can do it better than they, don’t even attempt it. I believe you would have better luck redoing “Birches:” than making this any better. If I were you, I would keep the ideas of the characters, discard the piece and start fresh.
I often times write a story just to get my ideas out, and then rewrite it completely different from the original, but with the same syntax and idea. By doing this, you’ll have a complete plot, but without it’s confusion. Maybe if you do this, your luck with this piece will change.
Like I said, you’re an excellent writer and I love your work, I just hate this piece. Ideas-good, the piece-bad. Work on it, you’ll get it.
I must say, I strive to someday write as you. I know I have a lot of catching up to do, but somehow find it to be worth my while.



29 I know how you feel. I’m sorry to hear that. Why should I care?



30 It would be so easy to giveup on such a world and lock our selves away inside our homes, hoping to be safe..but then as yu sa there are still the good things, and the hope of children..and yes many of them will get hurt in life but hopefully others will fight for our right to a safe world. This was a thought provoking piece that saddened me, depressed me and angry, making me stronger about fighting for something better. I work with long term unemployed and with counsellors and psychs ad i have heard similar stories, though not quite so horrific but always a sense of amazement and horror to me who was lucky enough to be brought up in a safe, relatively happy family. its good to see the window of the unpleasant so as to appreciate the good. sorry to ramble but I guess you expected strong ocmment to this.



31 I wish every poet would write of their humiliating experiences. It makes for a great read


32 just wanted to thank you for our friendship...thank you for letting me let caring people into my life once again...my wall bends only for you and i exhale a great big burden when i realize that i can tell you anything..it feels good to be open with someone when there are so many things bottled up inside of me that make we want to push people away..i love you david!!! and thanks so much for being there!


33 LMAO, FALLING OUT OF MY CHAIR AND ROLLING ON THE GROUUND. VERY FUNNY INDeED



34 LMAO! Now this was dry humour, but it certainly makes a point...Ingenuity at it's best....A fine read, and I agree with X, I hope the sponsor's read this and laugh as much as I am right now...Good job!!



35 Love the quick change of imagry, their contrast. A bit rough at the end and in some place (just like my poetry) but overall excellent stuff for the tastebuds of the mind, thanks


36 Me too!! I work graveyard shift 8hrs/(proverbial)day, 5 days/ week. It's 3:10A.M. I never sleep normal hours. You're getting good comments because you have common sense in a crazy world.

37 Mind-blowing poem! ^_^ I'm still speechless... I've never seen anything like it, it's brilliant!


38 much better not to feel, don't you think?


39 Oh David....I just do not know what to say- but on a lighter note- let the piercing begin!!


40 Oh my! I hope the sponsors do read this one! And end up laughing just like I did! Thanks for the laugh!


41 oh yeah..i saw your comment on that girls poem, geez..you are way too hard on yourself...i love your poems...let me tell you why...they are spontaneous, fun and full of surprises...everything that keeps a readers attention...keep writing!


42 Ok David, The Truth is that we can all see that you are sleep deprived and uttering complete nonsense.


43 Once again, thank you for your kind words of encouragement. I am certainly working on it! Take care, be safe, and I REALLY look forward to seeing more of your work. Just call me a groupie (Laughs)!


44 Somebody needs a hug. Read Chekov's "Gooseberries." I'm curious as to what you'll think of it.


45 THANK YOU!!!! The suggestion that you may have been bestowed with the goddess-like quality of my fellatio, was far less offensive than the suggestion that I would even CONSIDER reading the slop that snaggle-toothed, cuntress puts out under the guise of Poetry. Made my stomach turn, but I accept your apology.....No swallowing for you, my penile-challenged, little friend. *gets up from her knees* A thousand apologies for confusing your dick with your face...but you can see how one would be confused, considering the striking resemblance between the two.


p.s. there is never any excuse (even in anger) to use "Jewel" and "Poetry" in the same sentence


46 that was a very good poem of yours! i just went back and read it now, knowing the title sounded familiar-that was the one i read when you first posted it and didn't comment because i was a t a "loss of words" which rarely happens when commenting...but no, baby...i just wrote “x" one night along with the others i had posted at the same time- i believe the ones i wrote inspited each other...i wrote about about 10 or 15 poem that night-my mind was just flowing, you know how you get in the "zone" and you can't write faster than the speed of your thoughts, also that night i was very, i mean very sad... my poems...plenty are real, plenty are real with added fiction or stretched truth and very few are fiction..., i have been plenty of times suicidal, only spared because a gun was not at my ready convenience....i have often been called a very "secretive" person, not wanting to reveal even the simplest...i do give myself credit for being a "good friend" meaning if myself and someone have a friendship, i would go out of my way to do anything, any favor- you name it for them, but my downfall is, i don't know how to except compliments or favors in return, i don't feell worthy of anyone's kindness, in fact i feel quite embarrased by it... well, david, i have probably said way too much...i hope you will still be my friend, this is just someting i am sharing with you just because, well i don't know, if i'm writing it, there must be a reason... but the funny thing is, the people who know me, think i am the most happiest, silliets, craziest, loveing person in the whole wide world…"X" is a mask...she is why i write...she brings to life the bold little girl in me who always wanted to say something or fight back but never did... i refuse i relive anymore of that-i am trying to forgive... well i have babbled enough....please don't feel any different for me as i am the same person i was before i revealed all of this...i am happy...just a happy person with memories i'd like to forget...



47 the poem i wrote called "x" was really to david mascellani... it's just a poem though david, so please don't hate me for it..i respect you and cherish our freindship way too much to jeopordize it!

48 the sadness is overwhelming, as is the knowledge that your words are reality for so many


49 This belongs on the toilet wall of the school toilets.


50 This has a child-like tone to it which opens up tremendous possibiltes in dramatic irony. Unfortunatley, such irony is never aprroached—expand,explore, ironize.


51 This is excellent! I was completely carried away by each scenario. You really stirred my senses with this one.



52 This is going to sound really antagonistic and confrontational, but it really isn't intended that way: If you're between the ages of 12 and 14, your writing shows great promise, you should read more than you write. If you're older than that, you should seriously re-evaluate what you're doing, because it appears as if you're just typing to waste bandwidth. Most of us wrote stuff like this when we were in Junior High School, then we grew out of it.


53 THIS IS VERY CHILDISH



54 This reminds me of a prose poem by Nick Carbo; his poem has various cartoon characters such as Hello Kitty, Barney and the power rangers. I'd be glad to email it to you if you'd like


55 Now on to some general problems with your prose poem. . . I find it extremely unfocused; what is the subject? …what are you trying to reap from it? As it seems now you were just trying to cram as many examples in at once.


I recommend you ask yourself, what is the purpose of the piece? What can I take out? What can I expand upon?


It would as benefit for you to clear up your poem a bit, for example, I took a part of one sentence and went through it.

(This is a piece of your first run –on sentence, the sentence is also suffering from bad syntax, and it took me a couple of minutes to figure out what you were trying to say) eliminate () add
[ ]

…this would clear up the sentence.

Do this with every sentence.

I also think that in your attempt to …you took the easiest route. Look for other ways, not just the stereotypical …, there is more than that.

I think this piece has a long way to go, but it does have potential. I am looking forward to a rewrite.


56 This poem deserves more comments...so here i am...telling you that i really enjoyed this for it's realism..it's depiction of real, blunt beauty. good work


57 This version is merificully, shorter than the original, but both versions strike as being momumemtal wastes of time

58 This was one H*ll of a ride! Fabulous piece David!


59 very good david, i know that feels good, but regardless of what was said or who said it, freedom of speech is your choice if you choose to exercise it...anger is part of of healing, if you weren't human, you would have never hurt, to love you and admire you without expecting flaws, would be completely selfish.


60 well a bit bold for me lol...but IT inspired my poem X lol..thanks.



61 Well, I wouldn't say complete and utter, just somewhat and mostly. But then, I am only a no-good, cheating, evil, ugly American, and therefore everything I say is suspect. Just ask Derrida. Still, a good effort.


62 Well that is plain and clear enough...there can be no mistake about what you are saying. I like a person to say what they mean


63 What a waste of bandwith!


64 What by the way was the point ?


65 Why don’t you kill yourself, you whiney cunt?


66 Why has life in general been getting you down? You seem to have so much going for you!... I forgot everything I learned in college. I briefly considered going back to graduate school, but I was told that I need to retake the GRE's, and the idea terrifies me. I am not at a point in my life where I enjoy self-analysis. Plus, none of my profs will write me a letter of recommendation, particularly the one I slept with.


I have been thinking about you because I sense that we share a certain outlook on life, or maybe it is just a common mode of perception. I used to believe everyone thought like this. Not so. It is quite rare and miraculous, even, to have such a simpatico with another living human. But maybe I am just being corny or am just plain wrong. What poems would you like me to read to you? I think I might have you start off with a little Wallace Stevens, especially the one where the two lovers are looking at the moon.

Cheer up! Life still has a few pleasant surprises in store for you.


67 WHY GOD WHY? what is the point of this other than a cheap attempt to offend and a blind little stab at irony. and why sully this piece with the masterful MR X?

maybee if you could make it rhyme, it would at least be clever... perhaps
or narrow your scope and be more satirical...perhaps or shoot this little cunt and put it out of it's misery soory if im being crass, but just read the thing. its an idea rolling about in someone's head on paper - a miscarraige of literature. work work work some more.


68 WOW!!...I must agree w/ everybody else..you do have balls, David. And yes, it was a rather humorous poem of yours. I'll be looking forward to some more of your WONDERFUL and HUMOROUS poems. Keep it up!


69 wow, it really makes you think


70 wow, life in a few paragraphs.


71 X for the first itme we may disagree, it is to personal to be public, and sorry david..maybe immature..but then we all do things when hurt and to me this spells HURT and I hope you heal soon, one way or another.


72 Yes, the b!tches are programmed by the "wife-beating, child-raping liars." I really like how you pushed the angry-hurt-bitterness to the page. Very nice! Thank you


73 you are always in my thoughts and it makes me happy to know that you have thought enough of me to send your concern. i am fortunate that although i have family near where the tragedy happened, that they were not affected and i thank God for that. and i thank God for you


74 You are the token 'normal' person around here.. we just want to keep you around , cause there are so few of you.. hehe... I like your honesty.. And you do write well.. I'm not knockin it


75 You are so darn sweet. It makes me happy. If you do call me, please know that I have moved out of my previous residence. X and I have filed for a divorce. My new # is X. I am enjoying the single life and have decided to decorate my new place as the ultimate opium den. I recently purchased a red velvet futon and am looking for the perfect brass Turkish water pipe and a jade Buddha. You can call me Dorian Gray if you want!

I am very hungry for experience at the moment, but I am being careful not to get so hedonistic that I forget my obligations to society. I continue to tutor illiterate adults and spend quality time with my godchildren. I donate money to Habitat for Humanity and a local orphanage. Don't get me wrong; I am still a bad person. But even bad people can do nice things.


76 You make this situation so darn easy to relate to- effective, sad, - there's no way to be strong in love- it's just not possible, not one thing fair about it, and it more than bites. Don't do it for as long as you can- it shatters, it kills, it is not beneficial- and what a cool poem to bring all these things to mind! Lots of your poems are very good- no time to comment on so many- I'll try to read it a bit at a time.Thanks for sharing.


77 You do have balls I have to say that. . . to write something so on edge.


78 you really are a piece of work! keep it up(wink wink)


79 You’re developing an image here, but the image doesn’t go anywhere. I have read a ton of good poetry from you, but this one doesn’t have the direction that your other poems had before.

You need substance, which I know you can pull off. This poem needs to be thicker.

Your first stanza is pathetic. It doesn’t go anywhere.


80 You Dun Good Boy!




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