Stolen work

Well as hard as the truth hurts A LOT, I recently found on Instagram today that my work had been stolen by a more popular poet who has been published. It’s my own fault. I never did any copywriting. Still it stings like a bitch! So this website will only be for my own thoughts on others work, posts of work I like, and thoughts on other things. No more of my poetry, nor stories until they have been published though for my own protection.

and lastly…

Fuck you to the guy who blazingly stole my work. I never realized you took pieces of my poem and posted it on your Facebook claiming it to be your own. Especially since a woman had what was “your words” tattooed on her. You’re a phony…and those were actually a woman’s words to begin with… not a mans.

Nobody likes a thief.

Just goes to show. Protect your work people.

I apologize to any follows who liked my poetry and/or stories in the past. I will keep you all updated on any published work in the future.

With love,

-K.K.Powell

Mt. Punk

Up at Mt. Shasta recently I have found my creative faucet is flowing again. I just needed some mountain time. So I leave you with this joke that I was told on a hike. You see, the people of Mt. Shasta can be very metaphysical in their beliefs, but also have a great sense of humor. As someone who used to have a mohawk once upon a time, I found this very funny. 

So Garth, the camp host told Critter from Ashville, North Carolina… who then told me-
You know those 3000 year old trees down there are very knowledgeable. I was surprised with how up to date they are, and they have a great sense of humor! Ever had a tree tell you a joke? Critter told Garth… No, but he was dying to hear it.

Garth said-

Why did the punk rocker cross the road?
Because he had a chicken stapled to his head!

I roared in laughter, a laughter so big it rolled through the meadows. 

-K.K. Powell