Nothing changes

the importance
of life
has always been questioned

ascertaining an understanding
of life
is millennia+ old

the knowledge and wisdom
of life
has always been grasped

but only by the ones who dare examine it

Susi Bocks has self-published two books – Feeling Human and Every Day I Pause. Currently, she is an Associate Editor at the virtual coffee shop – Fictional Café. You can find her work at or follow on Facebook, where she invites you to read her thoughts and get to know her. Bocks had some of her work previously published at VitaBrevis, Spillwords, Literary Yard, as well as other literary magazines.


If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail

Poem #236

The emptiness of this room whispers
to me with the same pain you had in your voice:
“Sometimes love just isn’t enough”

With those words you made the poetess
in me want to set on fire all of the poems she wrote.
If not love, then what?

We, You, I (A Rap Song)

We, You, I (A Rap Song)
“I ain’t gonna be nothing,
Cos it seem like f’ever I’ve been longing.”
Tears in the eyes, phlegm in the nose,
Skin so sore, malady of the toes.
Helter-skelter, yet, nothing to show for,
Studied chemistry and physics what have I got?
I’ve got nothing, but walking,
Turning like a wheel, with no Boris,
Fishing and hunting, yet no prey,
A thousand padlocks and just two keys.
Governments say what they won’t do,
Making us seem as big fools,
Manifestoes, flap-doodles;
Serving trimmed rubbers as noodles.
“Eat, eat, eat” they bade us,
Proud to champion course unjust.
Queen of shits, Lord of tongues,
Sharpened bolox, Seasoned guts.
Now they stand as the saviours,
Voice so high, dreading as thunder.
More they speak, more they hunger,
Nourished with lies, growing fatter.
What do we do, what are should?
‘nough of savagery, ‘nough being fooled.
Hey hey hey I’m talkin’ you.
You you you you you you you.
Y’all wake up, wake from slumber,
‘Nough of dearth, ‘nough of hunger.
We goan be sleepers death after,
Now eyes are open, why the scar?
If its dirt they’re tissue papers,
Come for bucks, here is a dollar,
Buy the one which is cleaner,
Use it on your eyes and see clearer.
You should now see, yea better,
Humans like you claiming beggars.
Those then begging, now are loiters,
Those then loitering, now are robbers,
Those then robbing, now are killers,
Those then killing, now are prisoners,
Those then in prison, met their demise.
And on and on, Same thin’ O’er and O’er.
And we live on in myopia,
Till perhaps come the rapture.
Now we need revolution,
Bundle up and throw out corruption.
Right in our palm is solution,
But we’ve been feared by confusion.
Change prior to conviction,
Let’s agitate for lib’ration,
Kill who should die as oblation ;
Those who’re swimming in corruption.
For e’ery bribe they get commission,
E’en loot their congregation,
Loaning ’em to indecision.
Spare no seed of transgression.
Even the bible make no exception ;
The book of proverbs even in extension,
In chapter six verse eighteen makes a correction:
Only the death of the innocent is a transgression,
But of the wicked? Sure purification.
The first two lines would come no more,
If we do what is right as we ought.
Ancestor. Ancestral Pen. We, You, I.


If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail

Poem #235

I always believed happiness wouldn’t give me
a thing to write about but then I meet you and realized
that every movement of your imperfect being is a
poem waiting to be engraved on my skin

A thought to myself

I give a thought to a place,
Where the constellations speak to me,
Where the darkness of the night illumines me,
I give a thought to a place,
Where I dance in nature’s pure melodies,
Where the wind carries away the worries of time,
I give a thought to a place,
Where I defy all that I’ve been told,
Where my heartbeat is all I can understand,
And if I had just give one more thought,
I would give it,
To myself.


IG: catchingstarsblog3


If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail

#savingme – Shame, shame

This is the hardest post I’ve made so far.

Shame is a hard topic for me. I hate parts of myself and I am working on healing them, but honestly it has not been easy for me.

I spent years feeling ashamed and alone. I had this idea in my head that if I let anyone get close, they would inevitably hurt me. I fought against myself. I would run away from relationships or I would let someone in and then push them away.

I started to add more Shame on top of the shame I already had. I started drinking to numb the pain, and all that did was cause more pain. I was stuck in a vicious cycle.

It wasn’t until a counselor told me that I had it all wrong, did I really start to understand the root of my fears. He taught me about transferred emotions. An idea that was foreign to me.


He explained that when we are young, under the age of 10 or so we don’t understand what shame is. Yes we know the difference between right and wrong. We can feel bad about something and scared of being punished, but at that age, shame is something we can only feel if it is transferred to us by someone else’s actions.

This is not to say you can’t have emotions transferred to you as an adult, you certainly can and it happens all the time.

For me it was the daily abuse, and eventually sexual abuse (at the age of 7),that I suffered from. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I truly understood what happened. I felt dirty and unclean.

I kept asking myself questions:

Why did this happen to me?

Was I a bad kid?

Did I even deserve to live?

The last thought plagued my mind for almost 15 years and still surfaces now and then.


I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully healed, but at least I am trying. One thing I have figured out, is that I am not to blame for my abuse. There was nothing I could have done to change what happened, it wasn’t my fault.

I did make some choices that I am not proud of, and while I probably made some of these choices because of my trauma, they were still my decisions.

I am making amends with my choices in the best way I can, by being a better person. I have been sober for years and while there have been some slip ups, I have never stopped trying to be a better person.

I hope this helps other people who have gone through, or are going through similar situations. While writing this is harder than I thought it would be, it definitely makes me feel better than I thought it would.

So, if anyone out here has been through verbal, mental, physical or sexual abuse, it’s not your fault.

People make choices and no one has the right to abuse you, and you don’t have the right to transfer that emotion on to another, just because you were abused.

Abuse is never an option and you deserve better.



#savingme is the column where abuse victims can publish their experiences just to let go and find comfort and support. Maybe it doesn’t feel like much but just publishing your story for others to read makes you strong. You can send your story about the abuse you went through to and you can choose if you want it to be anonymous or not. More details here.