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Personal Note:

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Poem

Make him mad with words,
Sentence his mind with imageries,
Paint a fascinating tale on his palms;
Guide his poetry like you guide your 
soul before a pride of lions down hill.
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Make him smile everymorning before 
a breakfast will be served on the dining.
Let him carve your smile on his paper with 
a metaphor that can not be utter by another.
His your heart when you hug him humbly.
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Poets are emotional and calm sometimes,
Make him feels wanted in your arms, 
go into life boat  with him sailing in an illusion
 driven spirit, he would understand you better;
without ripples see through his eyes floating.
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Let out some tears before him intensionally,
Kiss passionately with a sparkling painted lips
Poetry is his religion and muse his deity, forget not.
Poetry to him is not always literal, know that his poetry 
does not mean what it says all the time.
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Poets fall in love easily, regularly. Messily.
With people. With ideas, With food. With the 
way the light falls through your hair and
crosses your cheek, with the sound of our own thoughts. 
Love is fodder for our art. Love is the root of all poet.

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