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 Apr 2016 emteesmith
Lakin
Untitled
 Apr 2016 emteesmith
Lakin
"Write and keep writing. Because a pen does not bleed for art; it scars for survival."
a personal quote
 Apr 2016 emteesmith
Lakin
Ra
 Apr 2016 emteesmith
Lakin
Ra
call me Pluto--
for I am tucked
Away into the
darkest corner of
the universe where
forgotten stardust collects,
hidden behind gaping
shadows--
never with the  
the privilege of
being sun-kissed
and obliterated by
the warmest star.
Writer's block makes for terrible company.
 Dec 2014 emteesmith
curlygirl
Find a Poet Not a poser, not a "it's just a hobby" poet. Find one who mumbles lines as they scramble for a pen at breakfast; who shakes their head randomly when their thoughts aren't rhyming properly;  who has notebooks stashed around the house that you must never touch.
2. Listen Savor the spoken words, for those are harder to express. Keep in mind that they can't be edited and re-written, and be forgiving when a mistake is made.
3. Read The body speaks as loudly as words on a page do. When their eyes are closed or focused on the ceiling and the fingers are tapping out syllables, recognize the unique process. Respect the need for quiet, because if you look closely, you can read the poem on their face before they write it on the page.
4. Write Write your story together. Grab hold of the pen and hang on as you move across the page of life. Sometimes you will dance across, others you will be dragged. You may have to cross out a word, or a line, or a page, but don't give up. Discouragement is a poet's biggest enemy, inarticulateness their biggest fear. So end each day with a semi-colon, because the story will never end the way you think it will, and there must be room for more. There is always room for more, more words, more laughter, more tears, more love,
When you love a poet.
 Dec 2014 emteesmith
Nikki
Titled
 Dec 2014 emteesmith
Nikki
Words spoken silent, ears heard hollow
rustle the leaves, bury your sorrow
my dirt laid under your nails, whilst your hands stayed clean
for you played the deviser and keeper of dreams
time may pass, dragging with it with now and then
but remember
with what measures you mete, shall be measured to you again
Boxes in the hallways
Memories on the walls
Our time together over
A room full of despair

Our lives we always shared
Now nothing but demise
as we cast another stone
to make our heartache known

Butterflies cocooned
A lonely cage of sadness
The thrill of love now gone
wrapped in pain one by one

Closing every curtain
In each and ever room
Shutting out the sunlight
On a love that once took flight

In the end our wishes
Shattered carelessly
Now in cardboard boxes
Lost in animosity

The End
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