Monday 30 April 2018

Cry Me A River (April 29, 2018)

You'll pardon me
If I don't give a shit
For your inability
To have sexual relationships
With women.

As you blame everyone
Around you
For your lack of success
In this regard.

Honestly
Your destructive
Misogynistic attitude
Makes you look like
A young spoiled child
Throwing a temper tantrum.

Because
You don't get
Your way.

So want to tell you
Grow the bleep up
And seek out
The proper help
For your social problems.

But know
You're lost
In a dark little corner
Of the internet
With your incel friends
Fueling this madness.

Only hoping
No more saintly gentlemen
Are anointed
By lone wolf acts.

Therisa © 2018

Author's note: Sadly, too much bandwidth has been commandeered by these young men and their message of hate and self-pity.

Constipated (April 14, 2018)

Oh Goddess
It hurts so much
Just want it to end.

Please?

Feel so plugged up
With no end
In sight.

Oh crap!

Explosive diarrhea
Overflowing everywhere
Forced to hang on
For my dear life.

As words erupt
Before me
At ever alarming speed
Unable to control.

Breaking down
My massive depressive
Writer's block
Of nearly two years.

Gentle sigh
Escapes my lips
As happy tears flow
Down my face.

Easing the tension
Been carrying
For so long.

Therisa © 2018

Author's note: Just being a little naughty here. :)

Monday 23 April 2018

Writing (Acrostic) (April 7, 2018)

Witnessing my emergence
Releasing the inner darkness
Intuitive knowledge
Trusting myself
Infusing the dark with the light
New horizons opening
Growth.

Therisa © 2018

Author's note:  Something, I needed to do, to stretch my writing muscles.

Wednesday 4 April 2018

March's Tears (March 28, 2018)

The last visible footprints
Of Ole Man Winter
Are slowly disappearing
From the landscape.

As the slender green shoots
Of Daffodils Tulips and Crocuses 
Push through the frozen tundra
Of the past 4 months.

Bringing renewed hope
To a blah landscape covered
In various depressing shades 
Of brown and beige.

Upon the distant horizon
The last traces
Of January and February battles
Still linger.

As the heavy winter clothing
Is slowly removed
With a weary eye
To the bright warm less sky.

Should the need arise
To redon 
These bulky clothes
Once more.

Knowing
Ole Man Winter
Has one more kick
At the can.

An April surprise
That covers the land
Once more
In a brief white blanket.

Before disappearing
Til late October
Or early November
With his bitter embrace.

As cold tears
Of long repressed relief
Flood the land.

Heralding Ms Spring
And April's arrival
To the land
Long tired of winter.

Therisa © 2018



Author's note: This is my last poem that I will write before my March 30th anniversary, which mark 11 years, since I wrote and posted my first poem. Sadly, I have failed to reach the milestone of 3 000 poems, once more, due to health reasons. Maybe next year, I will reach this mark.

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