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Some people wander through life with a thesaurus and grammar rules stuffed in their back pocket. Your words disturb them, disrupt their boring lives. They correct your syntax, judge your verb usage, condemn all adjectives while their writing lies flat and impotent, no depth in their vision, an imagination locked in a basement full of cobwebs. I’ve seen them flex their knowledge like muscles built on steroids in a gym only they attend, lifting weights of nonsense, prideful cowards.
Life’s too short. The moon still smiles. The vodka still burns. The poems don’t care about your footnotes. Let them play critic. I’ll stay in the morning light of my own page, writing without permission, without ego, without fear.
All that buzzing" where the hell did my fly swatter go?
I like this. I was taught that grammar rules were SO important and inflexible and that kept me from writing for a long time, and, when I got online and started I got so much grief for my structure and word usage, yeah, "Where's that swatter ?". Excellent write. ~Jim
I like this. I was taught that grammar rules were SO important and inflexible and that kept me from writing for a long time, and, when I got online and started I got so much grief for my structure and word usage, yeah, "Where's that swatter ?". Excellent write. ~Jim
I really enjoyed reading this poem, people like those wannabe critics can never come close to a poet truth hanging from their poetry, better than being fake. I appreciate honest poetry. "Life is to short.." U ended it very well. Thanks for sharing.
~Amy
Thomas W. Case was born in Oxnard. He has published 3 volumes of poetry. The Bullfrog Dreams of Flying, Artichokes, Avocados, and Van Gogh, and Seedy Town Blues. He has won several poetry contests. Hi.. more..