PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You and me both! And as: You and me both! And as scratch paper we used legal size yellow ruled pads. 

Most glad that words have: Most glad that words have allowed articulation

It does indeed!: It does indeed!

Here is the link to that: Here is the link to that response poem: https://postpoems.org/authors/redbrick/poem/1127489 Hope it does justice

Short, unvarnished, and wry;: Short, unvarnished, and wry; much like a quick word shared between coworkers at the end of a grueling shift. It distills a working-class voice down to its bluntest truth: “Alls I wanna do... is / Crack open a couple-a / Cold ones.” The poetic speaker owns their exhaustion and doesn’t dress it up. In fact, the closing line: “So pardon poor quality” is a cheeky nod to the poem’s own rough edges, as if the poem apologizes for being a poem at all; that’s where the power lives. This poem doesn't strive for perfection; it leans into the sweat, the slang, and the syntax of the shift floor. It says, “Here I am, tired and tipsy, and this is still art.” There’s a subtle defiance in that simplicity. The poetic speaker may be too beat down to wax lyrical, but the act of writing (even poorly) is a kind of claim to space, to voice, to survival. Labourers of the world, Unite!  

Yes indeed, much like a Time: Yes indeed, much like a Time Machine, that would be so fascinating

  Your poem, “Easter Sunday:   Your poem, “Easter Sunday Night, April 14th”, was a starlit coming-of-age, a moment gently torn between legacy and longing, tradition and selfhood. I responded with a poem titled “To the One Who Watches the Stars,” written in a quiet, affirming tone of. It speaks to choosing one’s path under the vast permission of the cosmos, of the night that feels wide open—for more poems like that one, more courage stitched into starlight, more quiet acts of truth spoken beneath traditions too heavy to carry. You’ve got something rare in the way you invite these voices from shadowed rooms and Easter skies alike.