Sort of New Age. Are you a painter?

You depraved hobo; I've been trying to get a hold of you...

I never said that it was fake.. it was more of a comment on the excess and cost and for what end?

lovely. anyway, do you remember me, dovina?

Dovina.. my hubby is a train nut.. I love this! Many of the heritage railways would love a copy of this. Congratulations.. it conveys the melancholy and the hope.

Dear Supreme Dreamer (or whatever the fuck your name is), I've had immeasurable difficulty maintaining a 'positive attitude' in these dire times. If anyone's to help, it'd be you! email me. tht19832000@yahoo.com

I'd far sooner kill the likes of you all before I'd kill myself. I've read something that rings similiar to this; in Chuck Palahniuk's (sp?) novel 'Choke'. Apparently, they're making it into a full-length feature film. Dude, contact me...immediately.

tht19832000@yahoo.com

lol, fantastic.

An aching refrain.. Bethy did you mean to use wisp or whispered in the fifth line? Just wondered if the use of present tense was purposeful?

A political politiked commentary on today and the presidential campaign... your word choices create an interesting fluidity to the reading.

Made me think of my teenage years and smoking through the bathroom window!

My father threw a glass of water at me threw my bedroom window while I was enjoying a smoke with my dearest friend. He was a fireman at one time in his life. So, at the supper table that night, my mom got home from work, ask my father how his day was, and his reply is as follows, "I put a fire out in Bethy's bedroom today. I think she and Edna will be fine, I think they were scared though, thank god I was home at the time." lol

perfect! I don't know what to say...I feel like I am sitting on a mountain in Peru. Thank you

Thanks Bethy... this is just one of those poems that gave me an opportunity to express how I was feeling at the time! :)

wow, what a dream! Tell me how to dream this way. Or am I wrong?

Why is primping fake. Too many women take this absurd approach; they go out looking like boys. My soul is not even approachable if my hair is a rat's nest and my lips look like Tom McCain's.

The truth about life in the (game)name of beauty. Beauty in is the garden surrounded by potatoes, string beans, corn and flowers. Beauty is deeper than the ground in earth on your skin when you grow things to feed your children. Beauty is inspiring, living in the moment, playing in the leaves, and having chicken nuggets and kraft dinner by candle light with your son and daughter. Beauty is when you read a poem and know that there is hope, happiness, sadness, reality and you feel what the author has written. So, you hold on to that and know there is beauty in their soul. You are an amazing writer. You inspire me. Bethy :)

I like the fourth stanza, altered a bit. Especially the "servants like me" bit (no comma needed after it), because unlike the rest, which is pretty generalised, it brings the focus down to one point, one place. I don't think it wants the repeated 'to'. You could get away with using 'where' once more there - "...where boys chase rabbits/where more people/clog the freeways". Or something like that.

And I'll whisper back, You ugly piece of selfish flesh