The Freedom to Write

The Freedom to Write

“Freedom” to ME is the opportunity to track down every thought which captures my fancy,
Full-time and Virtually,
Wherever and whenever I want.
At least for a tiny while.

I plan to live it up and break lots of rules!

FOR THE “PURE WRITERS:” Why I Happen to Like My Pure Videos

Why I like My Snapchat Videos:
They Showcase a Lifetime of Experience

According to my acquired belief system, these videos possess many virtues and capitalize on a Lifetime’s Wealth of Experience.

Their virtue begins prior to my birth with The Invention of The Photograph and the Resultant Cliché that “A picture speaks a thousand words.”

They’re able to make beauty from the ashes of my many Wasted Years as a Wife AND in Chemistry and Algebra to Fail to Recognize a formula for success, even if it equates!

Regardless of my track record, I feel in my gut these videos marry the Dramatic Flair I FIRST began at the onset of puberty with my Ability to Phrase My Words Poetically…

Honed during my years as a writer to Think Poetically In The First Place!

The end result should be POTENT DRAMA, wryly age-fermented into one self-effacing, surprisingly-impactful, socially-irresponsible yet hopefully still-entertaining multimedia of a cyberbyte.

When that inevitably fails like all my prior marriages, I find myself paying a premium to My IPhone Memory Plan, resorting to my inherent Gift of Gab, videotaping 100% of Everything I blab about for hours, rely on my Natural Aesthetic to Recognize The 1% that’s salvageable, and ultimately return to my aptly-titled B.S. degree in Radio-TV-Film to Edit The Useless Footage Down, hopefully quasi-coherently.

Of course, I never forget to swing by my long-term, prestigious highschool-memory banks to Cleverly Spin and Repackage this mere fraction of useless chatter about Everything into “Much Ado About Nothing.”

I hope you find them entertaining, too. Frankly, they’re easier to make than the poems, and I’d appreciate the harmless self-promotion.

TWINKLING SECRETS

TWINKLING SECRETS

Shadows Boomerang in the heavily-shaded absorbed silence of unglamorous Self-Reflection while simultaneously bouncing in shades of The High Echo of a reverberated-while simultaneously-shining dulcet patina of an authentic “BON VOYAGE! I can’t WAIT to see you again!”

CREATIVE LITTER

CREATIVE LITTER

I have to blow through
A lot of fuses, and
Refuse a lot, too,
Burning through
Lots of refuse,
Blowing, burning,
And refusing through
That, too,
Then re-selecting, reworking,
And re-tooling
Even previously-refused
Piled-high refuse,
Re-tooling THAT and
Refusing It YET again,
Hoping to eventually
End up with
Any Old Garbage
I can first refuse
Then, ultimately,
If I’m very lucky,
Dumpster Dive
And pick over
A whole landfill of
Scraps Spaghetti Confetti
To discover a tiny little bit
Of infinitesimal filthy dirt,
Soiled then Re-Spoiled
Enough to actually
Be of Any Use.

It’s either that or throw it on
The Giant Heap of Rotting Trash
And let it decompost naturally.


[PS. Where do you think
I found YOU?]

YouTrue Crime Poetry, Exhibit 41

Guilty of showing off my quick digestion skills again…

A CAUTIONARY TALE: DON’T MARRY ASSHOLES IN DISGUISE

(They have some convincing costumes,
so please don’t start “Poet-Blaming”
for “Victim-Shaming”;
I wrote a poem to honor her,
Which honors more than empty words)

I’m so sorry The Freshest Rosie
Was Bound and Married into a useless posey,
But because she poked so slowly,
She identified her murderer,
And indexed Death’s
Most Pointed Finger
At Her useless excuse of
A lame-ass husband;
He poisoned her with cyanide
And never cared about
The Cars Nearby,
Driving on Ways both
Motored and High.

He might’ve been a Husband, true,
But in my always-humble opinion,
Yazeed’s Phylum is more
Rat than Human.
This isn’t fact nor scarcely truth,
Though I’ll be glad to school
Anyone with less than
Half a clue.
My lessons are so free,
You’ll think they’re a
Dream-come-true.
In fact versus fiction
(Yes, I’m aware of the
Inherent contradiction),
I can only offer a special
Priced at so low a Price
And at CooCoo Crazy Costs
Because I actually talk This Way.
Oh, how it drives me so insane!
But what can I do?
And what can I say?
It Always comes out Rhyming
Any and Either way,
Every nano-momentary passing
Of Every Single Day.

Which Antidote might you advise
To under-dose Demise-by-Rhyme?

AN AGING FADE IS EASY TO FAKE

To Whomever says “Aging Sucks”,
I offer a flimsy rebuttal:
If you should find from clouds You hide,
Raining your Droplets of Pain
Into significantly-pesky puddles;
The older you are
The more vexed and perplexed
You can pretend and play.
“Minds in a muddle”
Are easily faked
And of minimal Trouble.
Truly, the sole choice of Sense
For those Plagued-by-Age
Is to slap on a sign screaming “Ignorance.”

POETRY BY AGE ISN’T POETRY BY NUMBERS


POETRY BY AGE ISN’T POETRY BY NUMBERS

I decided what separates
The poems of the Young
From the poems of the Old
Isn’t the song sung nor story told;
Rather it’s down to The Style
Which captures a Frown or a Smile.

Do You prefer to mentally copulate
With the first prick of fresh heartache,
Or do you prefer the dejection,
Pain and unspared despair
Of often brutally-inflicted
Repeat Rejection?

It’s simply a matter of taste.
A Choice doesn’t have to be made.
We can Break your heart Either Way.

Or Perhaps the Work of Stephen King?

Or Perhaps the Work of Stephen King?

This is what happens when you
“Do Poems All Day;”
You come up with Snappy Titles
Which say Your Poem in a different way,
Often removing its jumpy taste
And baking a Better Poem in the end.
THEN, The Poem Mix upon which I depend
Ends up Baking a Better Poem in the end,
And once a Better Poem Mix is found,
And A Better Poem is made,
THIS will be The New Poem Mix
I will choice to bake.

Regarding Sources of Poetic Inspiration

This could literally save lives! People Everywhere who have cried Too Much Salt in Too Many Tears won’t be forced to Blindly Search for a “Quick Fix” or a “Fast Replace” with Notorious Vexter, Visine.

At least not Anymore, they won’t.

[I told you folks SHE did it all day;
It keeps me awake and
Gives ME a Terrible Headache!

Apologies, Metaphor Her Friends, & More:

THE DEDICATION

THE DEDICATION:
Metaphor is The Meta
I’ve Literally Spent
MY ENTIRE LIFE
Searching Phor;
It was a Quest I was
Glad to undertake
On behalf of Poetry’s sake.

THE TITLE:

MY GRAND TRIBUTE TO METAPHOR
THROUGH THE SIMILE OF
Apologies, Metaphor, & So Much More
(Not than anyone’s ever apologized to me before….).

THE PREFACE AND SYNOPSIS
(Longer than The Execution]

An Indirectly Literal AND
Disproportionate Piece of My
Metaphoric (hypothetic?)
Forgiveness
(I Refuse to grant the Literal kind,
Since I’ve Never been Guilty of Nothing);


But if your Words
Of Sorrow are stale,
No Slice of the Whole
Can stuff Me or THEM
Full of the Stuff of Life!

Hopefully you won’t be overly-startled by my Oxymorons,
Bored by my Clichés,
Nor find my Allegories too obtuse to

Disgrace you and deface you,
Stimulate and Titillate you
Until you Crescendo With
An Overflow of Innuendo
At the Highest Of
All Heights
Ever Achieved
In Your Entire Life.

So why not stick around?
We may go to Ground,
But we can certainly
GIVE IT A Try, and
GIVE IT A Fly,
So, Let’s apply!
It’s a job I can do;
Can You?

THE EXECUTION:

FIRST:
It takes an Adult to apologize,
So you’re already taller than I imagined.

NEXT:
We’re all guilty of limiting our
Fields of vision
To better scope sizes and shapes
In this shadowy cipher of space.

LASTLY:
Please don’t rain on
Anyone Else’s Parade,
Especially mine.
Not today.

And regarding your forecast?
Are you willing to remain at least
Partially Sunny?
I’ll taste you some sweet
If you’ll shine me some sunny.

In fact, if you’ll spare me
A “brief interlude of rain”.
I’ll let you call me “Mama,” sonny.

THE COGNAC:
How was it for you?
Frankly, it was
Way too much like work
To work much like on me.

A VACANT WASTE OF TIME

WASTING TIME WRITING

This compulsion to “Document My Life While I Still Have The Time
Is a Giant Waste of Time.
People have both Lives and Time, and They can’t waste Either Reading piles of documentation About How I LIVED and SPENT Mine.
Frankly, it’s boring and they don’t have the Time or the Mental Space to waste.
And it’s not as if THEY’RE wasting MINE!
So I’m not Surprised to Discover the Fool in Me Descry
“Writing’s actually NOT
A vacant waste of time.
Nor an empty waste of space!”

And I know it sounds hateful,
But I’m so Grateful
We’re all so Wasteful!
So let’s remain Thankful
We’re a band of “Empty-Vacuum-Burn-Right-Through-You–Despised-and-Wasted”
Merriest of All Time Wasteful Wastrels!

Singing out of Toon

PLEAS EXCUSE MY QUESTIONABLE GIFT OF SPEAKING IN CARTOON

I’d love to munch on a bunch of Bug’s Buddies,
But I shy away from getting too wily with Coyote,
Especially since HIS idol is Casper the ghost.

I’d like to fly high with Superman,
But I’m too busy being a Wondrous Woman.
Come closer, but don’t leave your Delusions behind.
Can you keep a secret?

Here it is, and it’s coming from
A Sponge sitting Squarely in his Pants:
I can Scooby Doo!
Can You?
I can even Scrappy and Shaggy, too
!

Those “Blasted Kids”
Have always been
My favorite ‘Toon to Do.

OUT OF ORDER?


OUT OF ORDER?

They say if you’ll simply change your thoughts, you can change how you FEEL and what you DO about Said Thoughts.

However, I have found the reverse to be true:

The more I write my poems, and the more intensely I feel my emotions, resulting in

More Poetic Thoughts!

And ultimately writing more and more poetic poetry.

From a clichéd perspective, it’s more “circle of life” than “chicken or the egg.”

REGARDING HUMOR


REGARDING HUMOR

If You’re Sanguine, you’re good at it; you improvise and socialize.

If You’re Choleric, you’re okay: you’re simply getting childhood trauma off your chest. Since your barbs are so sharp, don’t overdo the snark.

If You’re Phlegmatic, you’re Where Boring starts and Insipid ends, but you’re a most agreeable audience. You perform Excellent Impersonations of Yourself.

If You’re Melancholic, you suck at it; you’re dour and dire and your delivery is catatonically dry.

As for me, I’ve never been a 25% Chance of Anything!