hi h. lovely evening, isn't it?

yeah...i was just watching oliver stone's heaven and earth...no wonder we lost that war ..it's like hamburger hill, but spiritually from the other side..what are you up to?.

ah, doylum, you are not nearly so disappointed as my creditors.

uneven rhyme weakens this, as does lack of detail

yeah! i think they should kick you out too! because you use dirty words. and when i read your poems, i think bad thoughts. and i get so confused. and you're different than me. and that's scary too. and you don't use spell check either. maybe a good garrotting would teach you a lesson. and besides, it sounds like you did some things that were ILLEGAL. and who let you in here, anyway? how about a night in the iron maiden? that would teach you not to write about touching yourself in the bushes!!!!! yeah. kick him out. yeah.

Ah ha! Precisely why my boy gets only fruit and nuts to snack on. 6/10

now that's funny (comment to "danny boy"...<brought to you by 'trap door' the only way to say goodbye.> hi z..o

now that's entertainment. nice metaphors, sirrah. and what's the lesson in all of this? she'll never play that piece again; that's for damn sure. leave it to the professionals???

reading some poems, drinking some beers. trying to spark. i just spent 6 hours consulting at a house with 6 kids. (i don't have any. they are fun, but, damn, the questions.) i wanna feel like an adult again. at least i got some extra jing. people pay me to pick colors and such. i'd rather pick words. been tossing a few drafts around all daaayyy. nothing worthwhile coming out though. not like last night. i liked the way you read salt, all turvy and knot.

Firstly, I'm sorry for your loss. I give you a 9 for this poem, JJ. It leaps above the snarling, rank fog of cranky pretension and pointless crudity emitted by others on this site and overwhelms their derision with the immediacy of your strongly held feelings. Please stay on poemranker and submit more poetry.

"Your paid taxes fund those causes" sorry h. you lost me here. not sure where the politics fit in with the lost, the love, the lament. got the levelling beginning, ending, and the staring at the past middle. but then you stopped the damn ferris whell at the top and rocked it. i'm scairt of heights. and then you throw the government at me. what are you going for? am i just dense tonight? uzwize, mmm.

nice cadence at first, but then becomes very tentative. i understand that the conditional is, by nature, tentative. but, to draw me in, i want you to sing-song me some more, and be surer of yourself. what makes this one the one you're willing to lay down for? that's what i want to hear.

angry about the mask. hmm. i've got a closet full of them. you will too, someday. i think it's the whispering behind it, more than the mask itself. just think about how small that space is, between the lies and the mask. heat it up. put a mirror behind him to catch them as they flow out from his(?) poisoned lips. bottle them up. what color are they, the daggered, dripping lies? and how do so many hide away behind the carved insides?

what is the truth behind door #1? this could be a good story; i think the forced rhyming pulled you away from what you were trying to say. man, i feel dense tonight. maybe it is all there, and i just can't see it. is it?

well, since i am still on here, i can supply a prompt response. thanks for the comment - the door pretty much signifies any obstacle=great decision=anguish that is found in life. undeniably it is everpresent in form and form again, in being that there is no sidestepping it and everyone must either face up to their own difficulties, or forever remain in fear about it, of not knowing, etc. and daunting as it is, the relative truth about the matter will not be revealed out until the treshold is traversed. hindsight being 20/20 and all that. ok if i explain anymore i'm going to feel like an idiot.

okay, i get that, but not from the poem. for example, you say that the door never speaks, though it tries. i generally find obstacles to be indifferent to my plight. and, i'm sure that everyone and everything that challenges me does not have any special insight into my soul. i'm not trying to be argumentative; i just think this got a little mystical for what you were aiming at. and, why torn in two? see, i think there's much that can be said here, but i think you are not putting down everything you have worked through in your thoughts. have you read it aloud to yourself? sometimes hearing it is much much different than writing or reading it. the ears 'see' what the familiar eye does not. tighten.

she worked for tardec in michigan, and i got kicked out of the navy, so i had to find under the table jobs for a long time (bad conduct discharge), while she worked for the government.. we used to argue about what path was more rewarding, something like that, you no? i was anti gov, she was gov...we were a hell of a couple...what kinda beer you drinking? i'm drinking red, red wine.. i

that song is so fucking powerful...i love that whole album now that i think about it.... i wrote the piece for michelle covalle...i was the one that o.deed' though..i flipped us around alot in the poem...she's happily married now in michigan with a beautiful son 'joshua'...we still talk, it was my faith in us that really died that die...a part of me never left that fucking place..thank god for my ability to cocoon, or i would be in bad, bad shape about right now..thank you it helps me heal..

all that punctuation dampens the spirit, before the clouds even gather in the sky

So what else ya got? 8/10