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let's not toast a drink, to a poet ink, that cries stink, after all, whats there to think, let the con and hoodwink, fall and sink, wither away and shrink, from my little kink, to ... now a parting wink, I'm sorry I wasn't in sync
Go to Quote / Comment | by connie pachecho
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to the snakes in the grass, slithering foolhardy, onto connie's cache of poems dare you to plagiarize, take the crown jewels, and then hiss.
Go to Quote / Comment | by connie pachecho
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What I find the sun, water and wind blend, her triple treats a godsend.
Go to Quote / Comment | by connie pachecho
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What I find is that I know of a women from my past, I think, a member of the poetry community here infiltrating my poems with comments. It's funny. She writes under the guise of different accounts ... I call them wooden ducks... she says oh, oh, your poem is so good. Fake praise, I think. She throws me a 7. I laugh. We're cats and dogs.
Go to Quote / Comment | by connie pachecho
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What I find is that no mater how much I try she dismisses me. No rhyme or reason given. Just mystery.
Go to Quote / Comment | by connie pachecho
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What I find is that the poetry contest here resemble zoo petting contest. Connie you didn't say that. Oh yes I did. Connie, think girl, think of the collateral damages. Ha. Who cares.
Go to Quote / Comment | by connie pachecho
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What I find is that I write throw away poems, poems that take no time to write, giggly poems receiving the most praise. Isn't this ironic?
Go to Quote / Comment | by connie pachecho
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