Best Publish Poems
Publish a book, they say, they say
Only an hour or so out of your day
The six months to write it they overlook
Then ignore the time that the editing took
They don’t count the time at my laptop I lurk
To make that damned PDF converter work
Or tot up the minutes or days that I frown
While stopping the text coming out upside down
They did note the day I found publishing heaven
Until I discovered a third chapter seven
Just for a moment I felt quite elated
But now I’m concerned that my text is outdated
How happy I was when I left-clicked on ‘Publish’
And waited a week for my self published rubbish
My poem called ‘Panda’ I thought was alright
Except I had written that they’re BACK and white
So after more editing and double checking
In hope that my format I won’t end up wrecking
I slip in a poem to fill a blank page
And then I republish… and wait for an age
Unlike the first issue, I’ve ordered a proof
Which might just turn up when I’m long in the tooth
And then it arrives and it looks really fine
But it’s got eighty pages, not seventy nine
So publish a book, they say, they say
Only an hour or so out of your day
Well maybe one day there’ll be folk who have read it
But first I embark on one more ‘final’ edit
***
My full colour tome is a poetic eyeful
Of poems for children, young ladies or chaps
It’s called ‘There’s A Tiger In My Trifle’,
And it’s out sometime soon…. Perhaps, perhaps
[At the time of writing this, I was waiting for that ‘Final’ edit to go live. This should be by Friday 24 June 2022. Current version (edit 2) has one spelling mistake and one less poem. Will blog when out]
Within that rule of thumb
that I am vanquished, yet among
majorities ~ the role's succumb
I cast it not ~ the vote's benumb?
Acceptance core ~ I take the floor
objecting, by what's evermore
the scoundrel's choice, is his rapport
so in my station ~ file encore!
Admonishing by gains restore
the underdog of faith's implore
is greed ~ and tools its own abhor
creating havoc ~ to have more!
The time be right ~ the writer's chore
in all directions ~ leverage store
the composition of truth's score
is now's own lesson ~ reaching for!
Composure ~ let us write and pour
out our aggressions ~ published o'er!
Publish Rubbish Horn Limerick
In newspaper many things may publish
And most of them were pure rubbish
Trump kind and considerate have heard
And in his vocabulary is no such word
For him to go away we sure do wish.
Jim Horn
You want me to write in metaphors
Twist meaning to fit the rhyme
Make the word count perfect
So many beats in time.
Use words out of context
Which have nothing really to say
My plain style not good enough
So change it or go away
So should I write my offerings?
Just like what follows now
Substitute fatalities, cowering yellow
Within the confines of a sacred cow
Oppressive vision of Babylon towers
Secreting liquid words of wisdom
Tie-dyed to fit the morning headlines
Career advice for the enslaved kingdom.
Does anyone understand what that meant?
Does anyone really care?
So long as “they” think it fits
They’ll publish all your wares
I’ll not pig at the trough
Just to please the critics
I’ll write for the “common” man
After all, they're not so parasitic.
Now first things first
Right a out a manuscript
(Well duh!)
Next...
Prepare it exactly how you want it
(Like I'm going to prepare it any different)
After that...
Have somebody eDiT your storu
(Yeah because I want to have mistakes in it)
Then...
Find a good publishing company
(No, I think I'll try a bad one)
Later...
Send in your copy
(No I'd rather just publish it magically)
Next...
Wait for a reply
(At this point people tend to over eat)
Finally...
Get a response
(Good or BAD)
GOAL!!
Yes you have reached your goal!
(Haha that's what you think)
This is what the average publishing site says, ha ha they make it seem so easy, and who are they to say our
goal has been met, they have no idea if their obvious steps have helped or hurt. Had fun writing this one!*
It is fast becoming rampant,
The whole thing: perfect irritant:
Baring screened-off contents of pants
Guilty: old dames and debutantes
And these pants are exorbitant,
Uncomplaining buyer brilliant!
Freedom continues to seeds plant
Crossed Christians turning militant,
Who would wearer waste or her pants,
New growing mistrust of fired rants,
Towards shaming violence slant
No more to assaults an “I can’t.”
But what would women establish
In pants that their contents publish?
The Better Man
by Michael R. Burch
Dear Ed: I don’t understand why
you will publish this other guy—
when I’m brilliant, devoted,
one hell of a poet!
Yet you publish Anonymous. Fie!
Fie! A pox on your head if you favor
this poet who’s dubious, unsavor
y, inconsistent in texts,
no address (I checked!):
since he’s plagiarized Unknown, I’ll wager!
Do I wanna publish? Let me think this through...
I only wanna publish, if my work means something to you
I only wanna publish, if my writing like thunder strikes you with truth
And I only wanna publish, if my work ends up being sentimental to you
I don't wanna publish, 'cause my writing still causes me tears
I don't wanna publish, 'cause inking ose pages are my open heart, thoughts, & fears
My writing is like a diary - it tends to set me free
They are without a doubt, my emotions and pain that these pages bleed
I don't wanna publish, for greed, fame, fortune, riches, virgins, control, or power
All my tears, blood, sweat, experiences, hurt, and my life has been super sour
I'm brutally blunt and it will trigger - and most people can't handle that
My writing can reflect bullying - especially in those years I was unnecessarily fat
There's domestic violence, sex, hate, and an extremely naughty sailor's mouth
There's writing about my drug use and homelessness - without a f--king couch
There's poetry about love, life, suicide, and especially on death
There's solitude and sedation, narcotics, and those bad memories I've kept
There's poetry about addiction, homosexuality, and a whole bunch on suicide
There's a bunch of poems on true murders - where a lot of mine have died
My writing is not for the weak, immature, or faint-hearted
There's lots of poetry on love - how it ended and when it started
A lot of my priceless energy I've spent on my rhymes and my words
Utilizing an enormous vocabulary, on nouns, adjectives, and verbs
There's short-stories & non-fiction about my witchcraft path
And on those pages with colors of ink pens - illicits a hellspawn of wrath
There's rage in those pages - trapped in cages
There's rape, hurt, blood, wishes, and infinite tears
Do I wanna publish my work? Yes; I heard - but my answer right now is I don't know
considering there's 15 years of my entire life written in wickedly defensive words...
Were I to compile all my poems
I’d surround myself with six or eight great tomes
And watch the age of yellow slowly creep
On poems with which no one would share a peep.
I fantasize of picking out the best
But then, what would I do with all the rest
For in their moment they were dear to me
How shall I place them now, one two or three?
We met and in consensus did agree
Upon the only way that it could be
That each should hold its place within my heart
For it’s just one long poem from end to start.
John G. Lawless
©12/8/2022
~Running the Gauntlet ~
Simplistic in its structure…
Nearly amateurish…
Unpolished attempt…
Superficial…
Facile…
Without subtlety…
Nonsensical…
Journalistic attempt at prose…
Lack of complexity…
Unimaginative…
The underlying message is vacuous…
Unsophisticated…
Puerile attempt…
Your submission is not appropriate at this time…
Not for us…
Not the right fit…
Not quite right for this publication…
We invite you to submit more…
Do you have any other work we could consider…
Your style is unique…
Our interest is piqued, however…
Enjoyed your work and would like to move forward…
Please submit the first fifty pages…
Thank you for your work we will be publishing…
Publish I His glorious deeds, among the nations;
I will write
and I will sing His songs;
Publish His words and glorious deeds
among the nations;
I will let my light so shine;
O'
and Alleluia
Glory to the most High
Alleluia
to the Sweet by N by
Singing praises to the King
What a joyish offering
I will write poems and songs
To praise Him
Glory and honor
I will publish his glorious deeds,
Sing, write, talk among the nations.
Tell everyone about the amazing things he does
I will write poems and songs
To praise Him
Glory and honor
He's so deserving
O'
and Alleluia
Glory to the most High
Alleluia
to the Sweet by N by
Alleluia
Alleluia
Singing praises to the King
What a joyish offering
Tell everyone about the amazing things he does.
Alleluia
Alleluia
Alleluia
Alleluia
3/11/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
From "Praise Worthy"
1 Chronicles 16:24