WWWP

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WWWP

November 11, 2019

I ain't got no life
I just got living
No white picket fence
No love that's worth giving

I tried living with marriage
It didn't sit well
I became someone I hated
A man living in hell

I've raised 3* kids, a single dad
Most of my years spent alone
I take pride in the success of my children
The closest thing to love that I've known

I don't regret the loneliness
The unlovable soul I've become
I question the fallacy of wedded bliss
When life has offered me none

People come and people go
Seldom do they stay
Promises made and promises broken
Same story, different day

A passionate soul, heart on his sleeve
A man who prefers more to give
Hidden behind a guarded exterior
Seeking a life meant to live

I ain't got life, I just have living
Destined to spend it alone
Good times and bad, joyous and sad
I'm getting by all on my own

-Wykid

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*He has 4 kids lol. Guess who has been written out of history.

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#DEMODFROWNLAND
#TERMLIMITSFORMODERATORS

WWWP

November 11, 2019

Annotated Version

Here the author borrows from 2015's The Revenant - a film chronicling the struggles of a vengeance-filled fur trapper in the late 1820's. The full line, "Life? What life are you talkin' about? I ain't got no life! I just got a living and the only way I get to do that is through these pelts!" Delivered by Tom Hardy, he speaks to the lonely, punishing, and unforgiving frontiersman life, and the author invites the reader to assume comparison between the narrator and such so-called Mountain Men.

Ok lol except we absolutely had a white picket fence

Spoiler for White Picket Fence:

Here our author introduces a victimhood narrative, one we will see emerge repeatedly throughout his collection. He at once separates himself from the violence perpetrated at his hand, and evokes images of a character that is tormented and who has struggled with coming to terms with their past, and so creates a new, more palatable version of an honorable man who fell victim to circumstance.

In an interesting form of revisionist history worthy of a Tarantino trilogy, the narrator speaks of raising three children as a single father, and then conversely speaks of living for years in solitude. Our author is likely unaware of the contradiction, as he seems to be conflating his true personal history with that of the narrator, the hero, the Mountain Man. The narrator may have been a single father, but the author certainly was not. Perhaps we, the audience, are meant to pick up on this virtue signaling untruth - for the deeper we delve the more dishonesty is uncovered. There are pieces of truth: most of the author's years have been spent alone, because once his divorce was finalized he dumped the kids with their grandparents and moved out of state.

So.... not love?

Again the author evokes images of the solitary grizzled Mountain Man, lonely but unloveable. The narrator speaks of regret, insisting he has none - another repeated theme in his works. His misuse of the word fallacy makes the reader question whether he knows that "fallacy" and "lie" are not interchangeable, but I'm sure that there's a deeper meaning there that we the audience are too simple to comprehend. Indeed, wedded bliss is difficult to achieve when you marry your mistress after knowing her for six weeks and break her orbital bone slamming her face into a dresser by week seven.

An incredible use of rhyming structure here, just a beautiful display. If you can't fit two to three overused cliches into your stanza and make them rhyme are you even a poet?

In contrast to the image fostered of a lonely, unloveable Mountain Man with no regrets, our narrator now concedes that he is actually full of passion, with his heart on his sleeve, ready to give his love away - if only it were enough. While the poem begins with Hardy's lament, "I ain't got no life, I just got living," the poem now turns toward the narrator's softness - whereas previously he asserts he does not regret his lonely life, here we are given a glimpse through that "guarded exterior" to see the true existential crisis facing our aging author. Will he find a purpose in this life? Is his life worth living? Time is running out.

It is unclear whether the author intended to flip the opening lines of the poem here its conclusion - "I ain't got no life" becoming "I ain't got life," and "I just got living," now expressed "I just have living," - or whether just like in every other capacity the narrator is simply unreliable and inconsistent.

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#DEMODFROWNLAND
#TERMLIMITSFORMODERATORS

Marie Monday

this is absolute gold

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WWWP

It's honestly really helping me work through some things

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#DEMODFROWNLAND
#TERMLIMITSFORMODERATORS

Frownland

It doesn't matter how awkward and clunky the third line of the stanza is as long as the fourth one rhymes.

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Studies show that when a given norm is changed in the face of the unchanging, the remaining contradictions will parallel the truth.

The Batlord

You should just post "XD" in response.

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WWWP

December 25, 2019

The skies are a brilliant blue on this cloudless day.

It’s a great day to enjoy a walk among the sagebrush and Quaking Aspens.

The leaves of the trees hum a song in the breeze that is blowing in the afternoon sun.

She walks by slowly, unaware of my presence or gaze.
A perfect image is etched in my mind. Like a timeless photograph, I revisit it often.

She is captured mid-step. Her right arm reaching up to brush away a lock of hair from her eyes.

It’s hard to determine exactly what it was that captivated me.

Her skin kissed by the sun. Lightly tanned. Soft and tender.

Her bronze hair shinning in natures purest light as the breeze pushes her flowing lengths over her left shoulder.

The positioning of the sun at this exact moment creating light and shadows in a mosaic down her face and to her right shoulder. Her eyes look towards the ground.

Her facial features partially hidden in the shadows. My eyes tracing the outline. Searching harder, I can see her nose and her mouth. Her eyes, though hidden, are caring and kind.

Her body adorned in a Native American inspired dress made of a soft white leather. Long fringes hanging off each short sleeve are also drifting to her left in the breeze. I can see what appears to be colorful beadwork wrapping around each arm and across the center of her breasts. I can’t make out the details but can see the reds and possibly blues perfectly spaced in the design.

The dress fits her figure nicely. Her arms flowing freely from its loose clutch. Her breasts press firmly against the soft leather creating the beautiful curves of a woman.

As quickly as she entered the depths of my mind, she disappeared. It’s only the memory of the moment I’m left with. Sometimes, memories are all we have.

-Wykid

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I like that it's a "Native American inspired" dress but on a white woman, so romantic.

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#DEMODFROWNLAND
#TERMLIMITSFORMODERATORS

WWWP

January 9, 2020

He can't explain the way she makes him feel
She has opened channels and flood gates
To emotions provoking thought
He feels alive and hungry
A fight worth fighting
Which was something his past and he forgot
No matter what tomorrow brings
Today he rises with purpose. Battle born, battle tested
She won't see the fire in his soul that her spark ignited
Ignoring his words, unaware, of the gravity of time she invested

-Wykid

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"He can't explain the way she makes him feel." Proceeds to explain how she makes him feel...

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#DEMODFROWNLAND
#TERMLIMITSFORMODERATORS

WWWP

January 14, 2020

There's fear in starting something new
There's fear in starting again
Fears of the unknown, fears of the past
Fears of how it might end

Projecting past the here and now
Finding every reason to fail
Missing the moment, missing the chance
Ignorance to all that is well

Confidence is fueled by experience
Positive interactions a must
It's through these moments of comfort
There's growth in confidence and trust

Rejection is also lived lessons
Failure, the death of his pride
To try once again, the ultimate sin
Behind fear is where the man in him hides

The mind continues turning
Emotions of highs and lows
Back in the cave, where men tend to retreat
Is where an injured man goes

-Wykid

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The emotions! The highs! The lows!

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#TERMLIMITSFORMODERATORS