Wordview's profile

(Write On Write Or Wrong) Write on! Write untill my fingers hurt and my hands become swollen. I write on fore it is a legacy that I and my fellow writers would prefer to leave to this world. Write on! Write of love and of hate,but you might like to write about much;more than straight. It is what drives me,it is what revives me,it is what it is and i've made peace inside me. Nobody understands me,my friends think i'm "batty". I write untill there's no ink by then i'll be unhappy. But write no...

(The Peoples Poem)By:Wordview Disappointment to say the least stays a part of our daily existance. The peoples patience has run it's course,stands to reason the peoples problem is universal so the peoples solution can not be individual. The people have spoken their words i've written,the peoples poem is now in existance. And here are a few of the peoples demands;The people demand JUSTICE and not the kind that still depends on the colour of our skins,but the kind that when a six year old girl...

(Wall Of Anger) By:Wordview Afraid to go to that place where nothing scares me,there goes the final sanctuary i possessed. My humane-ness meant something so here goes nothing but a reserved quick wit. I was not pictured;Of which i thought was deliberate,and as with most things i do the end result was firstly scribbled then implemented,but the final decision of it being printed remains with me. A captain of industry not likely;The first mate of rebellion definately. Destiny stays but a step a...

(Of Dreams Perhaps?) Wasn't my reality concieved in dreams? Wasn't i drawing pictures in the sand while the tide was coming in? My heart,where such questions have a way of surfacing. I knew i would be flooded for lack of a better word and then drowned. Steadfast and unflinching my dreams are comforting. I cling to them as a sailor who is lost at sea might to a rubber dinghy. My hours awake are sorrowful. My loneliness needs self-loathing. Not dreams perhaps,there where a nightmare affords me...

(The Poetry Police)By:Wordview They go about gaurding platforms for dear life. They consider themselves to be experts at having the final word on poetic expression. Who are they to say what is or isn't poetry? Not in the least. Who am i to be afflicted by poverty of finance,but not creativity? Reading as a form of taking in,writing as a way of giving back. But not them;no these scholars literature are parrot-like in their persuit of spoken word domination. Ranting on and on about,punctuation...