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. :)

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.

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.