To keep a poet happy
First off... naturally...
You must give him time
Time to write
Time to rhyme
And three square stanzas
Every day
Keeping his writer's block
At bay...

His pen and paper
Must be fixed
Or a computer
In the mix
A thesaurus
A rhyming dictionary
Or perhaps the classic writing
Of a visionary...

Don't forget the light
To see his words
You also have to listen
He wants to be heard!
Some structure and a clock
To see the time
Avoid writer's block
And help him rhyme...

Here is the recipe
For his feeding
If he has the block
He needs to be eating!
A pinch of metaphor
A splash of color
An image or two
Then add another!

But dissing folks
Has NO allure...

Nobody wants to eat

MANURE !!!


The Girl Who Loved.You
SoulSurvivor
(C) October 10, 2014

My life was hot and heavy,
It was slow and calm,
There was no cool breeze,
It was time for a storm,

I could see how fast you were coming,
The cold front in the bay,
You flew over the hills and valleys,
Nothing could get in your way,

Bringing a few rain drops with the cool air,
You were a welcomed break,
But I never would have gueased,
That you my very core could shake,

I heard the thunder over the horizon,
As the drops their numbers maintain,
Haulting my joyous *****,
Thoughout the falling rain,

Before I could get to cover,
The storm has larger grown,
And hail begins to fall,
But not your full potential shown,

Hiding under anything I can find,
You rip the sky appart,
Then a bolt of lightning,
Strikes directly on my heart,

Engulfed by your storm,
I cannot find my way out,
And shocked by your lightning,
My heart has no more doubt,

I love the thrill of thunder,
But never can I be,
Closer to my true love,
Without the sting of thee,

I'm too simple, as a stone,
***** and accidentally cast
like anything from my hands,
So easily dropping and lone.

So detached, millions miles away
where I collected shifting dreams
I don't expect you to understand.
Lows to forgive and highs to save,
Either I belong among mood swings.

Only turning the tide it could shut the door
so why this shiver down my spine?
I'm used to overthink, what's that for?
Bad habits ain't go rubbing my eyes,
like a cruel crack in my lips, though,
It hurt almost any time I got to smile.

Truth is I can't stand my days,
fool geometry of no tomorrow,
unsteady, lying under the waves
and no more than low or narrow
my body hadn't but should find that place.

As hollow as a hurricane
that must pass through but be mindful,
when feelings rise up their head
before winter wind they turn into blue,
like a runaway horse put at bay
as for now just biting dust and dew.

Stop me or ride on, just take my hand...
Slow burn, simply starting from the end.