professionals

[rowens]

To be a writer,
you have to be shameless.
Or just shameless enough
to feel nervous sometimes.

You have to be free.
Free enough to at least know
what freedom felt like
once.

You have to be the kind of person
that never plays games,
even when you take your son in the woods
for an all night Wampus cat expedition.

You have to be someone that believes
not only in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny,
but in the Noid and the thing that was supposed
to be in the pumpkin patch in that Charlie Brown cartoon.

As you wrap the hidden presents on Christmas eve,
and fill a basket with candy
during the wee hours of Easter morning.

But more than any of that stuff,
you have to be willing to go to prison
in your parents' basement if need be.
Or live off your wife's internship for a president you'd never vote for.
Or cut yourself a few times along your inner thigh,
just to know what it is that drives those people
that can't live without dying a little in public.

Or, at any rate,
you have to be the kind of person
just bad enough at math
that having to learn to count money is a far worse fate
than being chained to an out-of-date typewriter
for an entire adult lifetime,
with no backspace function,
and the letters worn off the keys.

[Wjames]

To be a writer,
you have to be shameless.
Or just shameless enough
to feel nervous sometimes.

Good opening. You have to be nervous enough to ensure your stuff is good, but shameless enough to put it out there and try and be good.

You have to be free.
Free enough to at least know
what freedom felt like
once.

If you aren't "free", you have to be free enough to be aware that you aren't free.

You have to be the kind of person
that never plays games,
even when you take your son in the woods
for an all night Wampus cat expedition.

Good flow, imagery, and spontaneity.

You have to be someone that believes
not only in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny,
but in the Noid and the thing that was supposed
to be in the pumpkin patch in that Charlie Brown cartoon.

As you wrap the hidden presents on Christmas eve,
and fill a basket with candy
during the wee hours of Easter morning.

You have to be willing to believe in the things which you, and other people create. Whether it be the childish magic of Christmas, or the written word of Shakespeare.

But more than any of that stuff,
you have to be willing to go to prison
in your parents' basement if need be.
Or live off your wife's internship for a president you'd never vote for.
Or cut yourself a few times along your inner thigh,
just to know what it is that drives those people
that can't live without dying a little in public.

Or, at any rate,
you have to be the kind of person
just bad enough at math
that having to learn to count money is a far worse fate
than being chained to an out-of-date typewriter
for an entire adult lifetime,
with no backspace function,
and the letters worn off the keys.

Great powerful finish, good flow, nice imagery, and reality behind the words to back it up.

Awesome poem, liked it start to finish.

[ChristopherSea]

You have to love a poem on the topic of being a writer that concludes with a portrait of an old malfunctioning typewriter. Old school and iconic, to say the least. A new typewriter was actually one of my high school graduation presents, ha ha. It was put in a closet two years later and forgotten there after. You have tongue of realism and down-to-earth-ness herein and an almost beat poet style. I might ditch the Noid (nobody probably cares or relates to that character) and reorganize the two stanzas to associate Santa/Christmas and Easter/baskets of candy.

[StevieFinn]

Thought provoking, great stuff.

for an entire adult lifetime,
with no backspace function,
and the letters worn off the keys - Love it.

[rowens]

The Christmas eve, Easter basket lines seem like a crudely muffled aside-like thing to me. An awkward whispery tone comes through when I read that part. But then again, I wrote it.

[Malu]

To be a writer,
you have to be shameless.
Or just shameless enough
to feel nervous sometimes.

You have to be free.
Free enough to at least know
what freedom felt like
once.

You have to be the kind of person
that never plays games,
even when you take your son in the woods
for an all night Wampus cat expedition.

You have to be someone that believes
not only in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny,
but in the Noid and the thing that was supposed
to be in the pumpkin patch in that Charlie Brown cartoon.

As you wrap the hidden presents on Christmas eve,
and fill a basket with candy
during the wee hours of Easter morning.

But more than any of that stuff,
you have to be willing to go to prison
in your parents' basement if need be.
Or live off your wife's internship for a president you'd never vote for.
Or cut yourself a few times along your inner thigh,
just to know what it is that drives those people
that can't live without dying a little in public.

Or, at any rate,
you have to be the kind of person
just bad enough at math
that having to learn to count money is a far worse fate
than being chained to an out-of-date typewriter
for an entire adult lifetime,
with no backspace function,
and the letters worn off the keys.

Several of these lines are trite, especially the first two stanzas

[leftover sushi]

these comments are pretty funny. wish there was a forum here where i could see more arguments and people being banned, it's very entertaining.
please forgive any errors, i'm typing impatiently with one hand (my wife is sleeping on the other arm).
anyways, i sort of agree that the begining is the weakest part of the poem, but not so weak that it matters, (it's not like i was at all tempted to stop reading). i think this poem will be easily related to by other writers especially. the ending imagery was the strongest point for me. also, i like how it makes me think of suffering for the sake of art (as if art is something important).

[Todd]

Hi rowens, I actually enjoyed this, and I typically hate writing about writing.

That said, I think you wrote until you finally got to the poem. I think this is your poem:

you have to be willing to go to prison
in your parents' basement if need be.
Or live off your wife's internship for a president you'd never vote for.
Or cut yourself a few times along your inner thigh,
just to know what it is that drives those people
that can't live without dying a little in public.

Or, at any rate,
you have to be the kind of person
just bad enough at math
that having to learn to count money is a far worse fate
than being chained to an out-of-date typewriter
for an entire adult lifetime,
with no backspace function,
and the letters worn off the keys.

[milo]

Miscellaneous or not, it has rambled far enough to be split off and put in the appropriate forum.

/mod

[rowens]

How about you get my reply to Todd back up here?

Well, Todd can see the Pig's Arse, so maybe it's okay.

[milo]

How about you get my reply to Todd back up here?

Well, Todd can see the Pig's Arse, so maybe it's okay.

do you consider the reply made so important that a moderator should take the extra time to move it back to this thread after you pretty much broke the forum rules by engaging in petty squabbling in miscellaneous forcing a moderator to go through all the extra work of splitting the thread and moving it or can you copy and just paste a new reply yourself?

[rowens]

This is my thread. I welcomed all that was said. You should have done it right the first time.

You seem to have a lot of extra time, seeing how you've been off whacking off onto some 16 year old's poems in the For Fun section.

[milo]

This is my thread. I welcomed all that was said. You should have done it right the first time.

maybe you shouldn't have started a pissing contest in the miscellaneous forum the first time

You seem to have a lot of extra time, seeing how you've been off whacking off onto some 16 year old's poems in the For Fun section.

it's for fun, adequate replies may include verse, read the rules. You don't own the forum just because you start a thread. If you want to have a pissing contest with someone bring it to the Pig's Arse or the Sewer. I may have extra time, but it's mine to waste, not yours. Maybe just copy and paste the reply?

[rowens]

I said it was okay, that Todd can look in the Pig's Arse if he wants.

Wasn't much of a contest anyway.