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.

All I want for Christmas
is some food to eat.
Oh what a treat
to have some meat.

All I want for Christmas
is clean water to drink,
stuff that doesn't stink,
that would be cool I think.

All I want for Christmas
is the bombs to stop,
no more to drop.
That would be the top.

All I want for Christmas
is for our food to grow,
the plants we sow
now that would be a show.

All I want for Christmas
is to be free to learn.
Not to be a germ
because I want to learn.

All I want for Christmas
is some medication.
and some dedication
from the United Nation.

All I want for Christmas
is to grow up strong.
Am I so wrong
wanting to belong.

All I want for Christmas
is some equal rights
and somewhere to sleep
through the coldest nights.

All I want for Christmas
is to earn a crust.
With employers
that we can really trust.

All I want for Christmas
is a chance at life
for a man and wife
not to live in strife.

All I want for Christmas
is oh so far away
and on this day
this is what I pray.

i can only write poems about whatever things dishearten me;
i can never bring myself to write anything about you.

I exist as a mirror
Wild lights have glazed over your skin
My whispers are tarnished
Our bodies a shield
Against the coming chills of a brittle wind

I linger with a breeze-like touch,
It comes out hoarse and swollen.
Thoughts  uttered with a breath of regret
Or a sigh of relief.

Your face turns foreign, a mesh of dark warmth
A light without the sun.
We’re all a wounded red
on the inside.

"Handle it with care"
That, I would always say.
To you, I give my heart so fragile;
A risk that I would never dare
To let another hold
Such a thing so rare,
Which you always seem to break
With your trembling hands.

"I'm sorry, it was an accident"
That, you would always say.
So I always have ****** palms,
And marred fingers,
From always picking up
The sharp fragments
Of my once called heart,
That you so fearfully handle.

Mind that I don't blame you
And your frail hands.
I pick up every blood-stained piece,
With a warm smile.
Every tear and sweat
That ran from my face,
Would wash away the stains,
Restoring its brilliance.

Now I realize that rarity
Does not come in fragile form.
It comes in the form of beauty
That endures. Once healed,
The pieces brought together
Illuminate into a colorful mosaic,
Dedicated to you.

Let its splendor captivate you.
A masterpiece that will drive
All the fears and worries away,
As it makes the trembling end.
For they are not just fragments,
But mementos that will last;
Images that will forever gleam,
**Of you and me.

Tell me what is true,
Tell me you love me too.
Dear, Please stop the pleasantries,
I can't live with mere possibilities.

There were eyes on us,
Mouths against us,
Crowds of false witnesses
Wrongfully accusing us.

Beneath all their lies,
Did our truths blossom,
Upon the edge of doom,
Did we learn to love.

But I never intended,
That your name be sullied,
Or your mother to grieve
To those lies they heave.

So the angry mobs gather,
Together with the royal guards;
But I will face such danger,
For our happily ever after.

All to prove our love,
To prove your innocence;
For our names to be cleansed,
I will endure in your defense.

But you cried and said,
"My love, you need not suffer,
We can escape, and go on,
To our happily ever after."

So we ran into the mountains,
Into the woods and glades;
With nothing but love in our hands,
Hoping that fire won't fade.

The princess once adored,
Was now but a vagabond;
Who thought she was free,
Being cut from her family tree.

They would release their hounds,
Hunting us day and night.
But young love is stubborn,
Never giving up a fight.

In the hold of my arms,
There, you were undone.
In the worries we both buried,
There, we were married.

And as the winter days passed,
That fire we kept aged;
Your smile is now long gone,
Our love's toll, we have paid.

That blazing fire we held,
Kindled by your frail branch
From the family tree,
Weakened to a dying ember.

The halcyon days barely kept
By that ember, were swept
By the shadows in our front door,
Killing its remnants of ardor.

Now it has turned to ash,
The fire died, and it didn't last;
Our hands were scorched in agony,
Left with nothing but traces of ebony.

So we held each other's heart
With dark and ***** palms;
Which blackened our hearts
To beat fast resounding qualms.

Lover, we sleep cold every night,
For we have lost our burning light.
In the darkness, we shiver,
As doubt completely takes over.

In our love forsaken rituals,
Did we offer ourselves like animals,
Banished from our old homes,
Left to die with broken bones.

Lover, we have taken back
All the promises we've said,
Our dreams of happily ever after,
Are now long dead.


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