Nice Guys Cum Last

dearest JJ I feel the deep rage here
you won't get pity from me
i'll tell you the truth your poetry
is a part of you it lives & breathes
it dosen't suck it shines..

love Brenda

Awww I like this!

The rant or Brenda's comment?

Thank you my dear Brenda!
Your words are precious to me!
JJ

All of it!!

Ok, lol, thanks so much Lilly!!!
JJ

Nice crisp flowing anger ... bravo (and no your poetry does NOT suck)

That's nice of you to say but nobody is buying my books, so my poetry is apparently only good if it's free...
Thank you for commenting!
JJ

Let it out JJ, it's good for soul and the blood pressure as well.

My soul is already damned and blood pressure won't come down until my heart stops beating... nevertheless, thanks for commenting T!
JJ

 Stop it with the "My poetry sucks shit! In the eyes of many here, you are an majestic painter with a pen. One that creates beautiful yet emotional images. Those that have blood, heart, and soul in them. Poems that are framed in tears. Real life writes!  
I've  known you for years JJ and I've always been raw, real, yet sympathetic.... but never have i pitied you. I swear... I wanna spank you....❤

Lol, hmm, now there's a lovely idea... I'll pretend it hurts just for you...  
But really Tara, my wonderful words are the very thing that have destroyed what might have been a beautiful relationship and I am not even allowed to talk to her. So all I can do is vent my feelings through my poetry. If I don't lay myself out on a bed of nails and take a whipping from my judges, I will keep doing this to myself. I will keep hoping for love, to find someone that is willing to accept that I am a man of emotions, real honest emotions. I hate frightening women away with my heart. It's the best part of me but it scares the hell out of those I have let listen to its thunder. I don't know how to be anything but me, so I am destined to be nothing more than a printing press of love poems for no one. What irony Shakespeare would find in my existence, to write of how King Lear's bloodline could give birth to such tragedy that Deja vu would strike twice. Why am I forced to live with so much love if it is to be forever buried beneath such detestable skin? I don't know if my existence is just a bad joke by some omnipotent creator or just random energies that mistakenly collided in a galaxy ordered by forces of nature that formed the black hole where my heart should have been. But I'm tired Tara. I'm tired of whatever it is I am. I want to change everything about me because nothing I am is worth this loneliness.  

So my words are pretty but I am not. My ugliness is a beast that shows his face every time I get close to feeling something that might be love. Like an immune system that senses sparks of happiness and immediately attacks the virus before it can grow into a massive tumor that would probably kill me anyway. My body would reject me for allowing such a foreign substance to enter it. An army of antibodies would form and the entirety of me would just dissolve into dust if I ever actually felt love. So as long as I just pretend and don't go any farther than an erotic fantasy in poems every now and then, the universe will allow me to keep on living. And I'm just supposed to take it, accept it, be a good little boy, go to my room, stay under my rock and slip out a sheet of paper every once in a while with some cute little rhymes and take my spankings when I can get them. Better to feel the sting than nothing at all... I hate to lay all that on you Tara, but no one else will listen. What you love about me, I hate about me. What I have to offer the world, the world doesn't want. Sometimes I feel like I am the substance that ignited the big bang but there's not enough fuel to explode, just dribs and drabs of creativity that form into poems that hide deep underground...
jj

Wow, this is the most amazing soliloquy I've read following a poem,
Love this line,

' An army of antibodies would form and the entirety of me would just dissolve into dust if I ever actually felt love '

Loved the poem too, clever title...

If passion sells books then we're on to something,
( I write to an imaginary guy )

Thanks for reading my poems and comments PR! Great comment!
I start out writing about real women but after they read my verse they turn into imaginary disappearing poets...
JJ

Ive written a poem inspired by this idea, ill be sure to mention your name when I post it, hope you like it...

I look forward to reading it!

I disagree - you are a wonderful inspirational poet - I have written many poems inspired by your poems and your comments - this is not up for debate - it's just true - if it wasn't true I wouldn't say it :-)

I really do get this write - loneliness is crushing, I know this only too well - you are always telling me to get it together and move forward - it's so fuckin hard I get it but what else is there

Huge hugs my friend :-)))))))

I've never been good at taking advice, especially my own. In matters of the heart it is all the more difficult.
And I can be stubborn about what to eat for dinner... thanks for you wisdom once again David!
JJ

This is the most lovely anger poem ever dear JJ. I know you know how good you are....and everybody knows......

Love, RoseJasmine

Thank you Rose! Such high praise warms my heart!
JJ

Ouch, your raw pain and anger is deeply felt :(

One thing I’m sure of is that I really enjoy your poetry and I always treasure your comments.

When one is bleeding like this, bleeding through ink is one of the best ways to soothe the soul.

Big hugs JJ

Thank you for the read and comment Sophie, and especially the Big hugs! I love Big hugs he best!!!
JJ hugs {{{Sophie}}} extra BIG!!!!