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how does one love a poet?
between the lines of their spoken words
and their haiku's.
a jumbled nonsense to an untrained ear
but a masterpiece
to the ones who take your poems
the ones they've studied
and they dissected
because they find them*  almost
as beautiful
as the way your soul shines
when you coin a poem
about the one who
coins their poems
about you.


*the delicate intertwining process of loving a poet.
I'm in love with you and all your little things.
It was a long sad story,
form a long, a long years ago
an Angel came down from the haven,
there was a love light fallen on the horizon
and the Poet heard his first angelic song

The Poet made his commitment on her
He fallen into love and
after then,
the dispersion of light spreading
throughout the sky -

Angel taught him the moon’s beauty
and the Poet taught her the large sky,
after then they made a dream
that was more than a dream

The Poet lived within her moon
And the Angel played within his sky
It grew love more and more
between them the light,
only the divine light
That gravity attracted them more and more

After a long dispersion of light
one day Angel came down on the horizon
took the Poet,
and enfolded him with her arms,
wandering upon an ocean

The Poet kissed the Angel
and they lost within themselves
suddenly the Poet discovered themselves
beneath the ocean but the Angel could not

She was drowning,
drowning beneath the ocean
the Poet tried to rescue her
and picked up her on the horizon

Then so many angels came down on the horizon
blew her from the Poet’s sky
and the sky grew dark at once
But the Poet still sees her Angel again
When he recites the* Poe’s Annabel Lee
*In a very slow Autumn -

@ Musfiq us shaleheen
*Tribute to My beloved romantic Poet Edgar Allan Poe*
It's harder
To write
About the dark
When your in love
And finally
Living in the light.
Don't write about me
When I am gone
Just let me rest
In peace
Am I a poet?

Because I so happen
To write down
Terrible tragedies
So beautifully.

Am I a poet?

For simply writing
Every emotion
You could never
Put into words.

Am I a poet?

For my inspiration
Deriving from
What I see and
People I encounter.

Am I a poet?

When in actuality,
I'm just thinking
Outside of the box
I learned to treasure.*

- (A.F)
For the ones that
use poetry as a therapy.

Copyright © 2015 Art Flores.
All Rights Reserved.
You are my favourite poet
You inspire me
It goes without saying that I love you
And even more so
When you breathe your words into me
And pierce my soul with your ink
Never stop writing your phrases on my heart
Always tell me in abstract
How my chameleon eyes remind you of calm streams
And brighter days served in a history of torment
We are two lost pieces to the puzzle
pushed under the couch
Vidi vici veni
I love it because you said it and I believed you
Because it is one thing
to say one thing is another
But it takes a poet to analyse it to it's full potential
So analyse me
Talk me into your amazing mind
And you can with ease
Because you are my favourite poet
If you love someone, tell them.
Even if you are scared that it's not the right thing,
even if you are scared that it'll cause problems,
even if you are scared that it will burn you life to the ground,
you say it, and you say it loud.
And then you go on from there.
Mark Sloan
You don't see me coming yet,
but I have already cleared a drawer for you in my heart.

Our first argument will be about how I hog all the covers in my sleep,
or maybe about how I can never shake away the feeling that I am left
with after a bad dream.

I want you to know that I am other worldly.
Which of course means that I am not from this Earth.
My mind travels to and from other universes and galaxies,
other realms of thought.
But I will try to leave a note reminding you I will return.

For future emergencies-
I keep a bottle of Zoloft in my ***** drawer
and a bottle of wine under the sink.
I am not allowed to take them together.
I hope my episodes won't make you think less of me.

I hope you won't forget the way gravity shifted when we first met.
Tape that memory to the forefront of your mind.
So when I am sobbing uncontrollably about the ending of a movie,
or the last line of a haiku
you will remember why you love me.
And I will do the same for you.

You see, I am not that great at endings.
I am not a person with promising follow through .
I get caught up in the beginning of things,
the middle of things,
the twist and turn
thrashing momentum
of things.

I just can't bare to see it all end.

So when or if it does end,
I ask that you lay me gently down and make your exit swift.
Do not linger by the door frame,
because when you tell me it's over,
that is it.

You don't see me coming yet,
but I want you to know I have had day dreams about our first kiss.
I imagine it like an orchestra inside your chest
and angels begin to sing when you part your lips.
The symphony hits its crescendo when we finally get to the kiss.

You don't see me coming yet,
but soon we will be in love.
I am what I am
Nothing more
And nothing less
pry at me if you wish
I will tell all someday
I will tell of the day she left
The day my parents separated
The day where I feared no man
The days that made me who I am
The days that made me a man
I will cry in your arms
Weeping my sorrows away
Passing them on to you
Trusting that you'll know what to do with them
Someday you will come along.
To save me from myself
To ease my troubled soul
And to bring light where darkness fell
Someday my love
I will show you who I am
All of my hopes and dreams
Downfalls and surprises
One in thousands.
Just another fish in the sea
Can you find me?
My love.
I need someone who wants me. Who wants understand me. Someone who sees and understands
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