It's not a hobby. Be prepared to give your life to it.
Read, read, read: The more poetry you read now,
the better your's will become.
Don't quit your day job. No one ever got rich writing poetry.
If you are seeking fame or to get laid,
there are obviously easier methods.
Ignore criticism, unless it is useful, and even then be wary.
Consider: Your feelings do not constitute the universe;
your love life may not be all that interesting.
Write every day. Don't wait for the Muse.
She is a fickle ***** prone to take random vacations.
Forget originality. It will paralyze you.
Write like a ******. That's what poets are.
Look forward to embarrassing yourself.
Say it in the fewest, best words.
Nothing is easy. Be prepared to burn for it.
Be joyful, though you have considered all the facts.

~mce

"It only hurts for a while."
"It'll get better."
"It was just a relationship."
"Get over it."

They say a lot; without, but they know so much more.
They don't tell you some very important things:

How long it takes to move on.
How hard it is to let go.
How much you will miss those feelings.
And
How hard it is to accept that things change.

They say that it's easy,
but they know that it isn't easy.
They know that it's horrible to see someone change
That person you love
Turns into someone else.

Listen to what they say
But know that there is so much more to it than that.

Dry ,  gnarled arms and hands , dandruff in this old mans beard would be akin to wind carved mountain rocks . Our physicality doomed , slowly disappearing one grain at a time , to be wiped off the furniture a hundred years from now by a meticulous housekeeper ..

to my good mate steve grigor

i know all i know is that he rode a big scooter and he was a writer

but he was a great writer, so much in facr he taught people how to write

you see steve wasn’t in the mood for staying in his body

he wanted to leave that body and enter in to another body

he was a nice man who enjoyed bowling and writing

and he used to drive his scooter all around the town

you see he taught me how to write and he taught me how to live life to the full

he probably enjoyed a beer or a coke

you see i liked saying hello to him when i saw him

and he said hi brian hows it going

i know steve grigor wasn’t this perfect little angel

but he was a man who taught us through his writing to have a joke about life

now i will give you a little jingle about his passing

it’s a shame it’s a shame it’s a shame

we lost a fine man in steve

it’s a shame it’s a shame it’s a shame

the man who teaches has passed away

i will miss him driving his scooter around this city

who knows he will probably go off to his next life with a lot of of creativity to give

this man was nice, you see he was very nice, but he had a load of body problems

and that is what killed him in the end, i will miss his howdy doody face

goodbye steve grigor

Light tread, heavy heart;
bears are the realm of spirit
in physical world.
The bridge they are carries weight;
a responsibility.

An embrace of words,
voices singing over void of
miles warms heart, soothes soul.