I feel this. Know that you are not alone feeling this way. the statement of “I am tired” cut deep. At one point the feeling of it all and feeling that no one gave a damn was so much…let’s just say I would not be here if I did not have someone. We all do not have that “touch stone” person. I do understand.

Absolutely gobsmackingly brilliant,powerful,honest,scary and sad.
When I read this, the only question. I had was why?Why does one keep holding on when there is nothing left to hold on to?
Why,if God exists,would he torture his children?

Why are we even alive?

Take care my friend.The tide can turn quickly and bring you back to shore.🙏

🤗

Tired,, but alive, broken, but the pieces are all there, they fit together, like the way rain brings flowers. Our tears fill the oceans where all life began. And our scars (whether visible or unseen) become the instruments of our music and can be heard in the cosmos. Willow, your poem resonates like violin strings, hauntingly and with grace. Not sure if you see or feel it, but you give us all the strength to continue, to disturb the universe, like pebbles thrown in the pond, creating ripples that go on forever.

I do not know you, Willow, and have only read a few of your poems, but I am happy you are here.

Curt

Powerfully penned, Willow. The armor does get thinner with time I think it’s part of facing mortality. At least that’s part of it anyways. There are layers as I always say, but it’s tiring indeed. Time catches all of us eventually, but our scars lend to wisdom, even those earned by trial and error. That’s what popped in my head anyways. Excellent write my friend, I can relate. Appreciate you.

Damian

You nailed it. Fantastic work. It’s hell to get old.

This is the first piece of yours I have read, but HER suggested you for membership in our new Spoken Word group. I took her at her word, and though I have not heard any audios by you yet, I wanted to take a peek at just some of your words first. If you have audios, I certainly want to hear them, on the strength of the words you have left here, not what someone has told me. This is brilliant work, Willow, tough, strong, gut-wrenching, sad; it touches all the emotions and pulls the reader in. I will read more, and I want to hear what your work SOUNDS like.

Corruption and ignorance go hand in hand. Yes, I whole heartedly agree with you. We must see the truth and act on it. Powerful write.

As if you read my mind and what I was thinking as as articulate. 🙂
I almost got ht by one of those flagy pickups yesterday. 💚

hello beautiful Willow powerful write the darkness threatens to swallow me whole I feel you ❤️

Powerfully penned, Willow. Into the book it belongs! This is’t a write it’s a statement my friend. Excellent work. Appreciate you.

Damian

WHOA!!! Some truth telling going on here. It didn’t fall on deaf ears, cause I be listening. America has always been 2 countries within one country. Today’s fascists were yesterday’s slave owners and slave bounty hunters. Thank goodness there are still wide awake decent people who in their millions took to the streets a few days ago. And even better, there is, beginning Nov 5, the determined, nonviolent, movement to oust these MAGA maggots’ regime.

Yes, it is often true in history that people were warned but didn’t listen, sometimes people just need to have a fire lit under their arses, before they can see straight. I think we poets have a role to play in this eye opening!! Your poem Willow is a welcomed salvo (or perhaps to be consistent with the metaphor), a welcomed match for that fire.

Thanks for the much need poem Willow.
Curt

damn good write.

Raw and unflinching. You’ve caught the weight of complicity and the ache of resistance in a way that feels both urgent and true. An incredible read!

Okay, now I know. You not only know how to write beautiful, powerful words , you also know how to deliver them. I certainly want to speak to you, Willow. Please visit with me.

Who made you promise not to cuss? In the immortal words of my old coworker…”fuck that!” I hear what you’re saying. And not saying. Thank you, girl

whooee, thanks 🙂

Superb work.

Poetic oxygen is hanging by a fingernail in our world. But! There is hope. Well done, Willow.

Thought on this one Lady, maybe to much. We think it would had hit even harder if posted closer to Halloween

Extraordinarily compelling ink ma’am .. I was hooked from the off and enjoyed the ride write to the very opposite end and no kidding .. Write on my fine literary friend .. Neville

Powerfully penned, Willow. Excellent write my friend with precise imagery and wordplay. Felt this one! Appreciate you.

Damian

The way you combined nature and human in this piece is breathtaking. We should not be used as collateral damage for the error of polluting the air. That is one way I took this piece.
Then the ones that are cast aside unnoticed.. That is sad, but I believe that there is someone noticing them. They may not know what to do to bring more light in their black hole.
Just thoughts I got from your piece.

the same as for all of us – some care
thank you Willow

Wow. This is a cigarette and a shot write. It is almost bitter, almost defeatist. Yet it also feels like you’re scoffing at the processes too. You need a seashell necklace while writing like this. Reminding you of what’s salty out there.

Willow…you had me from the first line and held me there until the last.
Message delivered and your mission accomplished.
The universe never pauses.Everything rises and ceases,nothing permanent….thank God.Imagine a permanent Trump.

This is dark with a lot of reality in it too. You nailed it with your silent hammers.
What ever the subject matter your writing is it’s articulate and thought provoking.

Brilliant use of languge and great imagery.

damn…incredible write.

The world is all too willing to leave the hurt ones behind. Great ink friend.

We see each other. We hear each other. We fall together. We rise together. Thank you for seeing, Volupta