Funny, most critics say, "Show, don't tell." I like it your way better sometimes.

An old poet I once knew saw a connection between a well dressed woman and a writer. Nonsense!

I take your vote and comment here and your co-opting my title for your recent post as retributions, perhaps deserved. You have been with poemranker for a long time and have written some good poems, made a lot of deservedly respected comments, and have generally established yourself here as someone worth listening to. I could say that your Bukowski poem does not follow the generally accepted elements of poetry and therefore give it a 2 or something. But I like what you are saying and would give a ten, as many others have done, whether it tells, shows, or conforms or not. I could say the same for much of your work.

I am new, and you have far less with which to judge me, but apparently it has been enough. I have written “a piece of utter fucking crap” and I am one of the “stupid, spineless, folk.” I didn’t mind that so much and figured it was part of a general rant. That’s why I said, “Thank you for finding my poem a suitable place to vent your frustrations.”

But your diatribe continued: “How much thought did you put into this poem? How much have you studied about the craft of writing poetry? If this poem is any measure I would have to assume the answer to both these questions would be 'none'.” “You are flat out telling me that God has a special Wonderland . . .” “If you want to write a poem about your faith . . . then it would be far more interesting and touching to show me what in your life has convinced you of this.” These comments are far more cutting than the first.

I responded: “I find it a great comedy that people who devote so much energy to the accurate phrase, the descriptive word, can mire under word-clouds of misunderstanding. The audience reading this will surely laugh as I say that you have totally misunderstood or I have totally mis-written. Sorry to have bothered you.”

From there it only got worse. I’m not seeking a feigned look of sisterly understanding. I would rather hear your bashing if that’s what you mean. In that case I will have to decide how to act in a world where a significant fellow voyeur is hostile.

Good idea, maybe: "If I crush an insomniac word twiddler,"
And end the poem with: "No matter, it was only a poet."

Then I am the most hopeless person alive.