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 Nov 2014 Aidan A
curlygirl
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.
 Nov 2014 Aidan A
Beauteous Beast
I don't want to be your
dream
promise
forever

because,
I want to be your reality
and not just a promise to be broken
nor a make-believe eternity
//
 Nov 2014 Aidan A
201
i'm glad that you love him
and i'm glad that you were there.
i'm sorry that you lost him,
and he's no longer here,

but his memory still remains,
because you are here
to remember and maybe to forget.

you have a beautiful brain
with lovely worlds
and lovely thoughts
and never underestimate that.
sorry if it really ***** i really wanted to write a poem to you, but i really couldn't write my thoughts out.
 Nov 2014 Aidan A
CapsLock
I should've guessed, I should've known.
If there's a lightning, thunder will come.

That I was a guest, this wasn't my home,
but I was just too afraid to be alone.

Winds might change after tomorrow
and the sea my pain could somehow swallow.

But today there's this mountain of sorrow,
that blocks the sun, and makes me feel hollow.
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