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goosy goofy gendar

PROSE ABOVE ..removed
POETRY BELOW...remains

There is some reason
for all kinds of madness
some remain dormant
some explode elephantine,
but the fun in remaining anonymous,
lies in the fact
those women call me Honey
and
men take liberties and call me Lovely.

That's what was my originality,
lots of trolls kicked me
but still three hundred on all sites
scan a dead person
in me perhaps
but that's all history
my past is no mystery.
it’s not recognition I hanker
as Jess thinks,
poetry is just emotionality
few kinks of personality
but what I’m in search of,
is creativity in human mentality
and
the search is on it keeps me busy
and
as you know not many more
dawns shall go
ere!

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

The last thing you are in this world is anonymous, A Nony Mous is a little furry creature that lives in the dust under the stairs. they eat drops of emotion let fall by the people going to their rooms.
The best food is from the young ones as they are sent to their rooms for being naughty.
The worst food is from the droppings of the tears of the lonely folk who sleep alone, through bereavement or just separation.
They scavenge the droppings to find the Happy food of lovers and newly weds as their promises take them sometime two steps at a time to the bedrooms..
So you are known by Many young Bard, it is the fact that many know you from your words, no matter what gender or disguise you use we all know you very well.
When you make a mistake or say the wrong thing we know that you have done wrong.
Do you have to light a candle to know it's name, Yours Ian.T (Yenti ???)

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

We cannot do anything about our gender, it is what it is, and we dance accordingly in this funny old world. I don't understand how, in a poem, one can speak to someone, but i don't know all types of poetry.

Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

some take it as prose
others poetically
depends on one's moods
thanks ma'am

loved

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