whats this? rambling? funny. lets ask picasso.

nice

sweet. in a bitter sort of way.

So simple and yet so powerful!

One with a ladder and a paint bucket

Wonderfully put.

Sometimes I wish I led such a poetic life. I'm jealous, frankly.

You have so many powerful things to say...I am incredibly impressed!

Rock over London Rock on Chicago Zest: "you're not fully clean

Rock over London Rock on Chicago Zest: "you're not fully clean 'til you're zestfully clean"

Well written, but I don't find the tin cans very intriguing. (8)

my recent attempt at being funny was more humorouse than this, and less retarded. it still sucked, but this makes it look good. 0. Does picasso approve?

Reply to modest man You the reader were able to do all three. Firstly, you did understand it (at least to a degree maybe). Secondly, you were able to research it as you contacted me the author and have now acquired source info. Thirdly, you did dance with this poem as was my intention (while you tried to figure out what you already understood). Ans: I intend everything which is hidden, as well as blatant, in my poetry and writings. Ans: That is best left to the individual. Ans: However much one thinks they have free thought, free thought has a limit, thus forcing us to belong. There are many examples of this throughout history (see world history). Ans: If everyone attains true thought, unhinged and unadulterated, then there is no power. As for power one cannot be equal. Those that believe themselves free thinking up to our time almost always stick themselves in boxes and belong to groups (see world history) Ans: When one doesn't know how a trick works then it must seem like magic, like our forms of travel three thousand years ago. We don't give it a second thought, but to those then, like the true power of free thought it must have seemed unattainable and scary. PS. All the names used are real activists of free thought in their own right. Only one is personally know to me. Glad you enjoyed the poem. Hope my response has helped.

"Promise of a new day fills me up with lust" This line seems horribly out of place with the rest of the poem. "Nor do I believe that I am at all dead," This is a forced and ridiculous rhyme. "I feel the reign of Him behind the stars, Slowly, I release my chain and iron bars." And these lines compared to your beginning is like "WTF" because you are going so well at the start and then you just fucking toss every thing right out the window. Your entire poem loses it's cohesion and tears away from itself, and then, by the time I get to your last stanza I'm just completely wondering why this trite over compensated poem about nothing but you and how you feel about some masculine force behind the stars is just a fucking joke. Which is exactly why it's in the top filth area of poemstanker. Can someone explain this to me? Other then this flat chested cunt coming back and saying the same fucking thing she always says to me "Well you're just a meany, and you don't know, I have friends blee blah blow:)" Yeah well Chrystal, that's fine, but why don't you 'address' the comments? Also, how come you think along with your 'professors' that you're some kind of 'writer' when I have yet to see you try to help another writer or fellow poet. Exactly, it's all about you, Your poetry reeks of it. It's immature, self absorbed and practically inaccessible. You say to me "welle then why do you read it?" Are you that stupid? Do I ask you why you write it? That's what poets do, they read and write poetry. you act as though I go out of my way to read and fuck with your poems? well if that's the case. What about the other 5,000 to 6,000 comments and votes I've left for other poets. Chrystal, can I ask you a personal question? Are you caught up in some fantasy that involves me secretly wanting you to piss in my mouth after I fuck your ass with a midget named Lukey? I think you are.

I loved this poem

Depressing, California left a bad taste in my mouth. Everyone told me I went to the wrong parts. I think I just saw through it quicker than they did. I like the way you wrote this poem. I just wish it were about something else. Perhaps that is near to the inteded effect. (8)

you have quite an original writing style. I always enjoy the read. sad and lonely, especially like the last few lines.

You can do better. It builds well but you can write better then this. It wouldn't take much to make this a good strong poem. Just take a look, I mean some of the errors are blantant. No one talks the way you're character talks, and in poetry it suppose to be idealized. Which this is not. Pretend you're character is smarter than you, more sophisticated. What the fuck, I'm wasting my time even trying to get through o you morons. Ciao.

So many, create and arrange thier poems, it's what they think...not feel. I love that you write your life, your existence. how YOU portray the world...not how you are expected to. Poetry is not just about guidelines, too often feeling is lost in the pursuit of perfection. I also believe that your job is often overlooked as the noble position that it is. This is your reality, you demand respect....you have mine.

You and your wife are so lucky...