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 Jan 2018
Paul Butters
The very first thing a poet should do
Is throw that ego in the bin.
For being Great, or finding fame and fortune
Should hardly be your goal.

Just say whatever you have to say
With passionate heart and Voice.
Forget about Perfection
As all is relative:
And simply be Inspired.

Don’t be a slave to rigid forms:
Variety is the key.
Pulsing rhythms may match the heart
But missing beats have clout.

Be respectful to other poets at all times
And always return their praise, where you can.
Never criticise in a negative way:
Always be positive and supportive.

Keep out of inter-poet politics:
Such a waste of time!
Just write and write and write and write:
I simply cannot help it!

Paul Butters
Ego is the enemy of poetry!!!
 Jan 2018
Cné
There's a key
      that unlocks rainbows
             that I keep within my heart.
It's a little "catch"
      within my chest
             where melancholy begins to start.
It unlocks walls,
      emotions hide behind
              (for my protection).
And it cracks the shell
      surrounding me,
              to give my soul direction.
Without this key,
      I'll always be
              a fire detachment smothers...
An empty vessel,
      self-absorbed...
              bereft of love for others.
But with it...
      ah...then life becomes
              a carousel of feelings.
A roller coaster
      ride of love
             with ups and downs revealing....
all the colors of the rainbow
       all the tastes,
                the sounds, the rhythms..
all the warmth of sacred lovers
       and the heartbeat
               that's within them.
And the key is dual
        in purpose
               with it's compass so unerring;
Guiding to my soul-mates
       with a lifetime
               that's worth sharing.
So, when I've found my heart's desire
       THEN
               I'll set the rainbow free.
Unlock the words
      within my heart
               and throw away the key.
 Jan 2018
Jerel Cabesas
i am
                                                                               okay
in
     fleeting
                   moments

but they always seem to escape me
 Jan 2018
Cristina
in the night between the years
a shy voice can be heard:
dear two thousand eighteen,
please be kind!.
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