Well what I feel
When it was raining

Yes,
I am in this clouded heaven
Waiting for my turn to reach
Earth

That one drop
That one rain drop
That's me

Eager to reach earth
Fill the rivers of knowledge

Be the part of sharing knowledge
And wisdom to who drinks
Water from rivers of knowledge

And I become water vapor reaches
The sky again to become a drop
And so on fills the rivers of knowledge

Anna who was mad,
I have a knife in my armpit.
When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages.
Am I some sort of infection?
Did I make you go insane?
Did I make the sounds go sour?
Did I tell you to climb out the window?
Forgive. Forgive.
Say not I did.
Say not.
Say.

Speak Mary-words into our pillow.
Take me the gangling twelve-year-old
into your sunken lap.
Whisper like a buttercup.
Eat me. Eat me up like cream pudding.
Take me in.
Take me.
Take.

Give me a report on the condition of my soul.
Give me a complete statement of my actions.
Hand me a jack-in-the-pulpit and let me listen in.
Put me in the stirrups and bring a tour group through.
Number my sins on the grocery list and let me buy.
Did I make you go insane?
Did I turn up your earphone and let a siren drive through?
Did I open the door for the mustached psychiatrist
who dragged you out like a gold cart?
Did I make you go insane?
From the grave write me, Anna!
You are nothing but ashes but nevertheless
pick up the Parker Pen I gave you.
Write me.
Write.

I always see forever in my angel's eyes
I believe that tomorrow for us never dies
I feel him here, a man so kind and wise
Yet everyday, his love is a great surprise

Never did I see that forever is true
A better tomorrow becomes bitter for you
Devotion is a lie, it's an illusion, too
A cruel fate until you fall through

Oh, an illusion for someone with hatred
Why I should listen to you who's outdated?
What I know is love is something that's sacred
I don't want now my time to be wasted

Ha! Hate just brings too much weight
Perhaps, love is an infatuation state
Temporary as it is, a passing moment to abate
Time is wasted into dreams that don't conflate

Why do you always tell me what you think?
Those things in your mind they always slink
Don't you see your limits, your own brink?
Can't you just let me find my heart's missing link?

I am just seeing reality, thinking out loud!
Reality is crowded as life is full of cloud
A prince without a crown is not allowed
A heart lost in the dream town is now cowed

I know you have so much words to say
You can turn me down all the way
But I will still stand and hold my love's bouquet
Hand in hand we will walk forever and a day

For me you were my everything,
For you i was everything that was
in between.
I was your favorite pass time.
You were my favourite dream.

I was everything that he was not.
You were more than just my friend,
You were everything id forgot,
Now it's come to a bitter end.

You look back on me fondly,
I look back with hate,
You look back with no regrets,
I'm still your favorite mistake.
                  
                          

I wrote a poem for my English class and my teacher said he didn't like it.

I wasn't mad because I got a bad grade, I was mad because what if I wasn't strong enough to look past his opinion and keep writing? What if that one negative comment made me quit altogether and never share a single word again?

What if he ruined my future because he couldn't look past his idea of what a poem should be?

A poem does not have to rhyme or end with closure or even make sense to everyone who reads it.

A poem simply has to reach part of someone's soul who had no idea that these were the words they had been waiting to hear and these were the words that were meant to save them.

This is what a poem is, not a grade from a teacher or a rhyme in a book. A poem is a method of coping and a way to understand the world with ease.

I wrote a poem for my English class and my teacher said he didn't like it. But I am stronger than he thinks, and I will continue to write poems that he does not like and I will continue to love them in spite of his opinion.

~

I read your poetry
and I am taken away
to a place where my childhood waits

Those sunny summer days
when life was easy,
and pressure was only a word taught in school

I feel weightless,
as if I can fly
and your words are my wings

You tug at my heart,
tempt my senses
and touch me in ways I have not felt before

I read your poetry
and it is as if
I am talking to a long lost friend

Catching up on good times,
crying tears with you
and sharing every smile

Walking long paths,
waving good morning to each sunrise
and good night when it sets

Dancing in moonbeams
and counting shadows,
which always add up to two

I read your poetry
and I am in awe
of your amazing talent

and I think maybe I should
just put down my pen, for yours
*is all the poetry I will ever need