.: When I learned to see people as emotionally sick rather than as bad, I could then learn to just let go of their words as there is no need to forgive people for being sick.
Thanks, but what I need..: Thanks, but what I need is a knick. What good is a knack without a knick? By the way, you knew I couldn't resist. I took your name and came up with the perfect occupation for you. You can do it on here. I can't discuss salary, sorry. This is the position, can you handle it?
REDBRICK KESHNER = HE S/B R NERD KICKER
This piece hits with a quiet: This piece hits with a quiet power. Taking a classic like Let It Be and reshaping it into a call for mercy, unity, and basic human dignity gives the poem a deep emotional weight. The repeated “Let ’em be” becomes more than a refrain—it feels like a prayer for families, for hope, for a country trying to find its heart again. I really felt the ache in those lines about broken-hearted people and the reminder that we’re all under the same God. Beautifully done, Ramona. You turned a familiar melody into a message the world still needs to hear.
A powerful piece,: A powerful piece, Ramona.
You’ve written this with a clear conviction, and that certainty gives the poem its edge. Even when the subject matter is controversial, your willingness to speak boldly in your own voice is unmistakable. I always respect when a poet leans fully into their perspective and lets the lines carry that fire.
Art like this reminds me how poetry becomes a mirror—sometimes reflecting unity, sometimes tension, but always revealing something about the moment we’re living in. Thank you for continuing to write with such unapologetic force.
There’s a quiet fire in this: There’s a quiet fire in this piece — that sense of two souls recognizing each other beyond the masks, beyond the noise.
You captured that moment when a person stops running from their own light and finally lets someone stand beside them. The “rebel soul” and “future paradise” imagery hits with a beautiful mix of grit and hope, like love that’s been earned through storms.
I really felt the tenderness in the line about misfits joining — it turns vulnerability into strength, and that’s the kind of truth people don’t write unless they’ve lived it.
A powerful, intimate piece. Keep shining that fearless honesty.
This one feels like a: This one feels like a full‑color celebration of destiny waking up inside somebody. The way you frame the moment—“a day you can say that for you it all began”—gives the whole piece that spark of transformation, like watching someone step into the life they were always meant to claim. I love how the poem blends Mardi Gras energy with a deeper calling, turning the party into a doorway for purpose, courage, and becoming.
Your lines move with confidence and invitation, reminding us that dreams don’t just happen—they’re answered. This was a fun, spirited read with a heartbeat of hope behind it. Nicely done.