I’m so over this play

I sat and wrote what you asked me to write.

i read and I checked and did everything right.

im worn out I’m done 

the craziness is running rife! 

I can’t complete this mess of life 

I looked through one conspiracy and the next

i wrote my frustrations out 

but all you have done is destroy my poetry

i used to be a hopeless romantic 

now I’m a pragmatist looking for reasons that aren’t there 

ghosts in the dark shadows in the night 

take your money. 

I want my life back 

I’m disillusioned

id give any thing to drop this ask

I want to run and hide from this mammoth task

i need the money

I gotta cut the grass and get some brass

to get my publisher off my ass

i will finish the contract I’ve honoriured

but it isn’t going to be good

unless you let me do my thing and find in everything

the bad and the good.

The subtle irony of love I truly miss 

this Godless place I wish I could forsake

I want the truth to be known

But the truth can not be handled alone 

the propaganda is too deep

too ingrained.

Were all a bunch of fools

but happy ones

well some anyway,

so it doesn’t matter what the world does

nobody cares 

they just want what they want 

they turn from me rather than listen 

so your dream of looking to my readers 

my faithful (now faithless) is lost 

and the illusion continues 

and changes not one heart 

but mine,

so I’m going back to where I came from 

I quit. Its gone. 

I've  methoded it, 

live re-examined it 

I’m stuck to news 

and alternative views 

my real job is a mess 

and there is no winner here 

conspiracy reigns 

people can’t deal with reality

or politics 

so I’m sticking 

to love poetry instead.

yours sincerely,

fuck you, I don’t care. 



My Life is a stage

and  all The actors are shit! 


Author's Notes/Comments: 

and fuck all you fickle creeps who can’t stand any ideas but your own. you Are not welcome to use any of my poetry ideas or inspiratioN. And do not judge me by my poetry or my views either as if you know me, you don’t and you never will. It takes courage to genuinely look through to the other side. Without judgement, without an agenda. And if you can’t do this then I am happy to erase my all my poetry. I wrote for me. I write for me. Not your fickle judgement.

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allets's picture

Where To Begin . . .

I also write for me but find opining and inspiration engendering a side effect to be read and then move on. Critics live under mushrooms, create nothing, and nurture complaint. They will live eternally. Editors are like directors, other producers, and backers; propagandist with a chip on the shouler, neck. wrist, and both kneecaps. We writers have to bear the stain and just keep writing. The uninventive will get bored and fade. The well written will speak for its merits. It has always been so. Hard Rant there. Felt good! ~s~




SSmoothie's picture

Thanks beautiful soul c.f.

Thanks beautiful soul c.f. I'm doing much better since I dropped that freak show. Legal battles ensue, but i can breathe and smile inbetween frustrations  and thats a good thing! Hugs xo

Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ¡$&am