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mymommaatelettuce's profile
AGE:
39
LOC: Register, GA
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: August 27
LOC: Register, GA
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: August 27
Ever since I was a kid… I wrote and I read. My best friends were the characters that took me along on their adventures and returned me contented till another story came along to take me on another.
I’m a wife with 3 kids, who have been my greatest fans, but I wish to expand and maybe finally have the guts to get my work out there and see if anyone else enjoys what I do. So please take the time to read my work and if you don’t like it please kindly let me know what I could be doing better. Much Thanks from a Newbie.
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Version 1
2 Reviews
2 Comments
A soul gripped in anguish Despair filled with pain Happiness torn asunder Sadness given reign Pride is but a memory Once weakness is born Held back by mirrored expectations Then hiding from the scorn Dwelling on then Unmindful of now Ignorant of tomorrow When death becomes a vow Vibrancy and spirit Are vacant from a face Light vanished from mischievous eyes Laughter lay to waste War raged from within Riddled with doubt Visage shows the pain Rotting from the soul out.
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Version 1
2 Reviews
2 Comments
There’s four walls The area is small But it’s home for the night Safe from winter’s bite A bottle to keep me warm A familiar burn It’ll help me forget Save me from regret My neighbor is mumbling in his sleep On the other side I hear someone weep Today I watched another die God, how I wish it was I At least I’m safe in my cardboard home But I still feel so alone In this city filled with people How I wish I could be their equal All day long I waited in line Hoping that maybe this time I would ...
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Version 1
1 Review
0 Comments
She often stumbled when she walked Down the narrow streets of home Defiant in her childish sulk She never watched where her feet would roam People would look up to her But she would pass them on by No response to their friendly gestures Or a simple hi She kept her eyes on the pavement But tripped over every loose stone In her mind she would lament Every sin there was to atone She felt that she had no business Walking on this road at all So consumed in her listlessness She felt like a wallflo...
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Version 1
5 Reviews
0 Comments
Instead of Flowers I brought words for you Instead of spring time flowers I will silently place them here For your eyes to devour Not a single one will I speak Until you show me true That they are the ones you need to see For you to know that I’ll always be with you I’ve set love down on paper Then scratched the words out Their meaning just didn’t seem strong enough A mere whisper to what I wish to shout All the poetry in the world Can not express my heart Only the end of time Can prove my l...
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Version 1
5 Reviews
0 Comments
Souled out I’ve been selling my soul since the day I was born Giving my life blood to those who’d only scorn At how weak a soul it was and how it wasn’t up to par As I watched their souls turn black as tar I let them use me time and time again Breaking me down, leaving me bent I haven’t really seen them since They took my childhood essence I put up a sign that read “ Do not enter ” And put up a wall that none could alter I stayed hidden and angry behind these Waiting for a reason to be free I...
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Reviews
I would love to hear this with music... I always feel I can't give a proper perspective unless I can hear or feel it the way the writer intended. With that said however, from a poetry stand point... I found this riveting. So many of us feel as though our grasp on our temperment begins to slip away when the " deluge " as you put it pours continuously onto our over burdened shoulders. Well done.
This was a truly discriptive piece of work. I love poetry that tells a tale and you did very well on this one. I especially like the bit... " He was the only person who asked me in my life for real bread. Ya' know, the kind from Europe with seeds, that was fresh and after time went stale, like real food or somethin" This tells you exactly what Bukowski was like... a man who enjoyed the finer things in life but yet tries to find those things in the most unlikely of places. Well done... I can o...
I love this poem. It reminds me of what we are all heading for... the winter of life and love. Where will our memories dwell and will those memories invite new love to bloom? I may have gotten this completely wrong but I see this as a couple who are coming to terms that their time has ended and yet there's hope that their memory will be an example for others. If I'm wrong please correct me... regardless if I got it right... this well written and thoughtful.
Ah, this gave me a chuckle... These six words truly hit the nail on the head. A writer's work is their soul and we are willing to share our souls for very little. Pride is more often our bread and butter then cash. This is simple, pointed, and concise.
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