Okay, so, follow the leader. I'm just going to do as the Bird does. I'm just going to write the lines as they come out. Scream and shout, if I need to, or not.
All I have us what's inside me that wants to come screeeeeeaming out come t -u --m ---b ----l ----i -----n ------g ------------------------------->>>> out!
Damn, it's good to just write freely. Just crap it all out on the page, as if I had no viewers, no audience to please, not even myself.
Okay, now I'm getting self conscious, since maybe someone will actually read this after all. Will I fall? Will it make me stop writing out the crap? But I need to say things where I know my voice will be heard! Once the embarrassment quotient gets too high time to say "bye bye" to all those embarrassing, tumbled out words. feelings. maybe just words about feelings?
{because, see now I'm feeling shy} If I am brave enough to hit "Post," for that moment, just for that moment, I am ....................f ...............r .......................................e .........................................................e!
I like how you shaped "tumble"
I could relate to the sentiment of how writing is freeing, tumbling out, but it can also be nervewracking, embarrassing, self concious.
I wanted to come back to this one. To read it again.
It just fits so perfectly.
Also, I have to confess, when I saw the read request with the title " Hit Post..." I immediately thought "great, another Jack-a*s that likes to hit things".
Shame on me...
i absolutely love this poem...that self-conscious feeling that makes us doubt ourselves...we must keep it at bay so that we can just let the muse do her thing, like a freewriting...
Yes, yes, yes! That is exactly what every poet feels when posting a poem. Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead. Your emotions are splattered on the page and, well, you just have to hope the world will be kind.....still, if not, does it really matter? As long as YOU are pleased with the words you post, the poem is a success. I liked this one a lot. Great use of fonts and margins. Lydi**
Hahaha droll commentary on postmodern self-consciousness. This poem puts you right in the shoes of the essential amusing oddity of wanting to write and share anything at all.