Nice. I like the last three lines and the juxtaposition of the Easter Bunny or Boogie Man.

awesome work. kick the 0 people where it hurts!!!

That is dark justice. Group therapy anyone?

Interesting. The periods seem a little arbitrary.

poetand KOnwit? Boy, I can't wait to see THIS smackdown.

I enjoy the connection and compassion in this poem the use of the flower and the horizon. It's always nice to see affection in a real sense.

Matt, Matt, Matt. Here I was all geared up for some fine and biting satire at my own expense and all you give me is Gordon Lightfoot. I thought Canadians are supposed to have a better educational system then the US, smarter undergrads and all. You have the statistics somewhere! But wait, you have to finish the new Mega Man video game before you can reveal them. You go for my dear dead mother again? What is the point? What are you after there? I am glad she is still weighing on your mind after so many months considering she was quite the woman. So, what kind of Canadian are you? Oh yes, the kind that hang out with other folks that get a kick out of watching 3000 people die. All while you and the gang are sitting around mommy and daddy's pool living the good life. Free health care and all. Oh yes, I remember. Is this really all you can muster? I mean are you really lacking sleep so much that your brain has fizzled to the point of no longer speaking in anything but D&D lingo and Barenaked Ladies lyrics. There is no subtext hidden beneath Be My Yokon Ono, I swear. Your mother will die one day, you know. And it may be from the likes of cancer. And you will have to sit and watch her rot away right in front of your eyes and you will come back to this site and read my dear dead mommy poems and cry yourself to sleep at night. She will piss out her own bile. Do you know what bile looks like? It is this brown goop. Dark brown. And looks like a runny shit but it is coming straight out of the liver into a little bag. And your mother will turn to you and look at you the only way a mother can look at the son she gave birth to and let you know that she cannot take it anymore. And maybe you will run across the entire fucking world looking for just one doctor. Just one who will say MAYBE? Maybe we can get a handle on this. But he will be the most unfeeling human on the earth and guinea pig your mother who I assume you love. And then she will leak from the incisions, it will be every place, and no matter how many towels you pull from the closet it will not be enough. And you will think to yourself, does the body really have this much shit in it. If there were really a god, wouldn't he/she have simplified things a bit? So, you are up to your knees in it. You mother is begging you to make it stop. To make everything stop, but you are ill equipped. You are unprepared to deal with this. And then you will have to deal with the hallucinations in the middle of the night as she is dying right in front of you. You had better start praying to Geddy Lee right now, my friend. Because karma has a way of crawling through locked doors.

raising the bar.. one, two, one, two, muscle bound sailor flexin them muscles... yeah.. why the fuck do i get better when people smack me.. must be some unknown disease that i suffer..

I love the Alice in Wonderland type feel, the mattress giggling, etc. What about this "phine" though? 10

I wanted to change my comment given the state I was in last time. I like the use of romance and then the line "I take whatever comes to me" it's a wonderful vision that everything is prey and a meal. I would almost like to see more of that through out the poem. My question is what formula, there physical strength or the ability to make a thread? I must say the last line draws me in very much and I left feeling whole.

So, you were so over the top horny that you came in your pants and turned the other person off? I really can't tell what extinguished your audience's craving.

This poem keeps on jumping back to recent and yet friendship is still misspelled. I like the ending, but think the mysterious "some people" aren't doing your ending too much justice.

I like the insane rhythm. The sense that the floor is heaving and pitching; that houshold objects have overcome inertia and are now in rebellion.

i specifically put the periods in. i want pauses at the ends of the sentence. i personally wanted to slow down the reader. make them think about what they were reading. i never noticed you could only put 3 poems a week so i didn't even start with my personal favorite poems. but wait till next week.

very powerful: the images the emotions. When reading poetry it is always hard to not think of the writer as protagonist. I must say I enjoyed this especially the end there is a childlike essence that is so desperate in us all.

well done. blessed with 10.

Keep thinking. "When you smile, You light up the room." has been written by every poet in their early work, but you can think of a different, better metaphor.

Sweet. Better metaphors and descriptions on this one.

jesus christ, i realize that no one knows what a masterpiece is.. this poor thing littered with the low scores of morons who fail to realize the power of these words.. i feel like an idiot not having discovered this godforsakened diamond, i can now say i lived a privileged life.. where else can i read more of your work? eh? im addicted, i want more, your the opium den of my universe. 10. 10. 20. fuck the scale.

shit. you got me! hahahaha!!! wank!