heh, sure why not. You've got skill

p.s. It is you who is the one who spellted God's name wrong in the first place. Good day.

interesting...you spelled Poets wrong though towards the end =/

od'swife-gay, ou-yay ake-may e-may ick-say.

When I read this poeme, I wanted to clap. But instead I tugged into a bap. And while you may avert your eyes, you'll not taste finer than my Bap Surprise.

Will you duel, or are you a coward?

THIS IS GREAT KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK

What a sad and beautiful sap. Drunken Romantics, I used to collect them. Your poem makes me lonely for my derelict sock monkey. I admire the way you make him fall apart, right before our very eyes. Be careful Mr., your tender heart is showing.

god'swife, you are an old woman who is on the internet. Have a prize!

P.P.S. All that bother about defending truth and justice is twice as ridiculous in Latin. I mean, come on. Think of some more interesting concepts to defend. Older in breath than in deed. A flood of opinions. Clinging to a skirt. Open diary. friendshipmaker. Feeling good about a job well done. Learning something new every day. The pause in a conversation in which one considers oneself as a meta-entity, not fully realising that the other person is doing the same. Pyjamas. Slicing. Planning your emotional development down to the last detail. Looking for a satisfying pattern in your life. Constantly being aware of only half living up to what you knew you would be because you're special and you read that book that one time, but allowing nothing but supreme confidence in your own value system to shine through. Billowing. Striding. Bustling. Chatting. Sipping. Good day.

Looking back angrily on someone disapproving of you and obsessing over it to the point where you diagnose them with an imaginary mental disorder is to "only see what was and not what is to be". I think you don't understand a lot of people yourself. Tell me this: Have any of the people you admired ever sat down and written a sniffly, indignant poem about mean people? By the way, spurning someone is the quickest way to get a free psychological assessment.

Personified furniture is the best thing ever. I have written a series of short, incomprehensible tales about a magical hat and shoe who live in an enchanted wardrobe and then meaninglessly attack people. I will keep them to myself, I think.

good idea, great conclusion. i'd like more punctuation to help facilitate understanding. even more, i'd like a solution

this, ere it fell from thy finger-tips, was not e'en a mote/ now it shines, brilliant in its olde might/ to amaze and delight/ all of us dopes

something along the lines of 'feathers, flight' for a title?

MR. LONGFELLOWS, The we is personal. Orginally just me & he, but then it became evident that I , like most, would prefer things my way all the time. I know one person who is no crow. Maybe you makes 2. So those who wish to drag themselves in, may do so. I was happy to see the word crisp. On that particular evening the weather was exactly that, so good for me. LIMONADE, sometimes I like my wear my poems loose & de-constructed. After all, everyone's familiar with their ideology. (I explain their credo in the next stanza) It is not about society, it is about me. This is the best I can do. I love this poem because of it's bare-bones, like a tree in winter. I was going to name it winter, but that certainly doesn't cut it. If ever one of poems is titled 'untitled' it's because I am at a loss. I prefer titles. If any of you darlings can think of one, please run it by. P&K is right I do need more in put from the girl zone. Most of the "critiques" I get are from men at readings, and they just want to get close enough to look down my dress.

What an insight. Ace!

Err I changed that! How did it not change!? Oh well

Genius, even without the last line.

i think i'm in forbidden love!