Get out of my head, Mr. Bukowski
or "Is there anything new under the Sun?"
Other days, you sit down with your
typewriter and want to spill poems
from your veins, because you can't
bear to hold them inside you any longer —
only to discover that someone already
wrote them before you.
— sincerely, me.
About the Creator
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More stories from Imola Tóth and writers in Poets and other communities.
If You Love Me, You'll Do It
I met Jason when I was five years old. I could say that I loved him from the moment I saw him. He was so handsome to me and I felt in awe by his presence. When they introduced him as the new kid in school, I wanted to be his friend right away. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember his smile and how he didn't seem shy. He appeared confident and ready to learn. I waved at him and said "hello," before anyone else could even say a word. He sat next to me, and I asked him if he wanted to be friends. He looked so happy as he said, "Yes!"
By Sidney Smith (Sid Smith)6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
I've often felt that way with Lang Leav and Mahmoud Darwish!
I feel this-I want to write for catharsis but don't want to sound like a whiner often
This captures that timeless writer’s feeling so well.