Don’t Tell Me

Don’t Tell Me

Don’t tell me what I can or cunt do
Don’t try to censor me with your personal bias
I am not your mouth piece and never claimed it
I don’t crave your acceptance or require it
Try stifling my speech and see what a territorial bitch I can be
Try throwing archaic values you’ve placed upon locution I feel empowered by
Sisters in solidarity is what we should be
Instead the use of one term divides us
Disagree with me and shame me down
Shame on you for censoring my language
I reclaim the noun – the verb – the word
I use it proud and loud
For I am the CUNT who takes it back and brings it to the fore
For I am the CUNT who refuses to bend to your fickle contempt
For CUNTS everywhere –
I seize and celebrate whilst waving your policing views adieu

 (C) T. Altman 2017

 

Remedy

Remedy

Stumbling preeminent neediness
Into stony seas of logical distress
Exploring with detected trepidation
Analyzing abysmal wretchedness
Commanding intelligent selflessness

For what purpose, point and pine

For the tumbling truth
For the painful promise
For the rhyming ridicule
For the salacious savvy
For the remedy of writing

Resolutely the enormity is me

 (c) T. Altman 2017

 

Allotrope

Honey soaked, troubled notes

Pierced within cracking walls

Unreleased burdens, build and topple

Foraged for tranquil peace

Regarded as flotsam – inestimable instead

Paragon of the genetrix cue

Lumbered pressure allotropes does make

Verse (c) T. Altman 2017

(Image: Woman Aflame by Dali)

 

Being a writer…

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“Your writing starts with a vision – a dream.

A belief that you need to put down what you are seeing in your mind.

It drives you and inspires you…this vision.

It makes you want to feel something as you are passionate about the process.”

(C)  T. Altman 2017

What Inspires Me: So You Want To Be A Writer – Poem by Charles Bukowski

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if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.