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How do you write a poem?

Simple.
You bleed words, bringing them out
of your system as natural as breathing.

When you have the words, you take
the familiar and defamiliarize it.
An empty glass? No, it’s a vessel
waiting to be filled by drunken conversations
and waterless tears.

You look outside.
At the face of the woman you love;
at cloudy skies; at society’s lies.
You take the affection, wonder, and disgust,
and turn them into letters.

You look inside.
Your fears, deepest desires, your secrets,
those untold stories and happy memories.
You get a handful of your soul
and use it as ink for your pen.

You turn into someone else.
You place yourself in a different place,
transcending the mundane; glimpsing
the past, the present, and the future,
absorbing the truth they whisper.

You take all that and you string words
within the limits of the form’s brevity.
You bare a part of your soul, allowing yourself
to be vulnerable in order to do one thing:
to say the truest thing that you know.

Perhaps, in the end, you’ll have a poem,
or maybe a different thing altogether:
a work of wonder you never knew was inside you.


NaPoWriMo day 2! This one’s written while I was on the bus back to the metro, with the music of Oh Wonder in my head.

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