Bob Dylan meets Laurel and Hardy...i will give you a spin....7

ugh...

not bad...the wording is a bit confusing at times and the middle could stand a little touching up...perhaps shave a few articles or pronouns....it has real potential, and i am looking forward to seeing it develop...interesting poem.

That's right! Your life has utterly failed, so why not produce another miniature failure in an unbelievably misguided attempt to fix it? 10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Your persistent use of the limerick to write on non-limerick (i.e., non lewd or funny) themes will be your enduring contribution to literature. Cherish it, my friend.

Doesn't anybody on this site lead something other than a utterly pathetic existence? Oh, no, wait - we're all on the internet.

Its amazing how the feeling of being "enough" or the desire to be enough can be totally consuming, I like the first half of this and I feel like you have read my mind of some of these, but skip the last line, I want you to yell this at him not ask for him to mold you into what he wants!

The only part of this that isn't ace is "to beg and crave". No, I don't know how to fix it.

Maybe you could do something like, "If you thought I was going to beg, to crave You, guess again, because I cannot stand..." And I like "way" better than "ways".

This is a damn good translation. One of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen tons. Now whether or not you should call it "both of ours" is beyond my rights to decide. My guts tell me your trampling on the genius of another, but on the other hand you've done an excellent, and I do mean excellent, job of maintaining the tone of the original, and still you have created verse that stands on it's own "English" merits. So i can see why you feel some sense of ownership. It's a tough call. I give you a ten because it works beautifully as a translation, and you did mark it as "Other" when catagorizing it. Perhaps Mr. Kaolinfire can add it as a catagory.

This is not poetry. This is a draft which could become anything; A monologue, An essay, a suicide note, a skit on SNL, or perhaps even, yes, a po-em. At it stands it is merely a verbal blood-letting. A purging of pain, la-de-da.

the folded way your eyes caved.... nice

pretty. What's with the spaces before commas sometimes?

francis... what blinding and deafening love hath inspired this?

this is just the sort of cheaky poem i like 10

damn... but you said "bottom" so i'll give you a 1 -end transmission-

I really like this: Elton John plays in my mind, And I guess that’s why they call it the blues.

That was on The Sopranos last week. :0)

tequila....my arch-nemesis....once again you worm your way back into my life...bastardo.

Who was it that sang that song "We've Only Just Begun"? Olivia Newton John? I don't know.... Anyway, another good one.