A Smith
A smith was of words with a splendid death,
The main presence of death meant nothing.
Words are for deeds as the fish in the sea
Escalate and provide for their impoverishment.
The island of an ending close to the very edge
Is of maximum importance, and the ultimate sacrifice
Is yet to come.
This heavenly world resides in the heavens as well,
Hard efforts require cheaper diseases of the pen,
Hard are the gains of a forever summer and winter
As they dance among your moments one time to come.
The smith with words is a smith to gain remedies for himself,
These phrases are from him and him alone.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Mine
My king-I worship your every move
My love-I show all affection
My kiss-your lips are heavenly
My friend-let's go away together
my soulmate-be mind forever
My crush-let's be together
My mind-share my every thought
My life-live it to the fulless
My song-have harmony
my heart-skips a beat when our eyes meet
My words-so true
carlisa smith
poem by Carlisa Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Mood
I'll simply be out shopping,
or just going for a run,
when words and phrases hit me,
and a poem has begun.
Sentences and lots of words,
go running through my mind,
and i know if i dont write them down,
my thoughts leave me behind.
So quick hand me some paper!
Just please give me that pen!
If i do not write this down soon,
the words will go again.
poem by Holly Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Each Closing Day
At the closing of each closing day
When all songs sung
The singer stands alone
When words make silence speak
After words
When each moment outlives the last
When all futures are futures past
I count the hour and the day
The colour of your hair
And when first we loved
Your eyes a world within a world
Your heart a heart within a heart
With each closing day
I count the hour we first loved
Knowing only time in timelessness is found
When every grain of sand within a hour glass,
Has fallen to the ground
The seed that's sewn will blossom in it's hour
And after time, after time
Will grow into a heavenly flower
yvette m smith 7.10.08
T
poem by Yvette Smith
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You Are
There have been times,
That I have wished,
That I said more.
Spent more time,
Telling you how I feel.
This is coming from my heart.
I am being real.
I have gotten my words together.
It seems like it took forever.
To say the right words,
So you will know,
Well here goes.
You are like a strong heartbeat.
The words in your dictionary,
Are all upbeat.
Positively,
Believe,
In your dreams,
You will see,
Absolutely,
This is how,
I see you.
You have won my heart by far.
It is all because of who you are.
poem by Tameeka Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Antichrist, or the Reunion of Christendom: An Ode
Are they clinging to their crosses,
F. E. Smith,
Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses,
Are they, Smith?
Do they, fasting, trembling, bleeding,
Wait the news from this our city?
Groaning "That's the Second Reading!"
Hissing "There is still Committee!"
If the voice of Cecil falters,
If McKenna's point has pith,
Do they tremble for their altars?
Do they, Smith?
Russian peasants round their pope
Huddled, Smith,
Hear about it all, I hope,
Don't they, Smith?
In the mountain hamlets clothing
Peaks beyond Caucasian pales,
Where Establishment means nothing
And they never heard of Wales,
Do they read it all in Hansard -
With a crib to read it with -
"Welsh Tithes: Dr. Clifford answered."
Really, Smith?
In the lands where Christians were,
F. E. Smith,
In the little lands laid bare,
Smith, O Smith!
Where the Turkish bands are busy
And the Tory name is blessed
Since they hailed the Cross of Dizzy
On the banners from the West!
Men don't think it half so hard if
Islam burns their kin and kith,
Since a curate lives in Cardiff
Saved by Smith.
It would greatly, I must own,
Soothe me, Smith!
If you left this theme alone,
Holy Smith!
For your legal cause or civil
You fight well and get your fee;
For your God or dream or devil
You will answer, not to me.
Talk about the pews and steeples
And the cash that goes therewith!
But the souls of Christian peoples...
Chuck it, Smith!
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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These words
These words will be gone tomorrow
They steal the numbers from the streets
Til every door looks the same
These words like candles will burn out
They steal the light from temporary souls
Soon, too soon
They will bury the love
Under the tongues of yesterdays softness
As if they never were, more
As if they hunger still
There is no promise
No everlasting
And every eternal door
Always looks the same
They look
Tomorrow we will walk away
As if, when these words were gone
We forget, yes we forget
Still, that they ever came
And yet, they carry on!
yvette m smith jan 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Bones
Said Mr. Smith, “I really cannot
Tell you, Dr. Jones—
The most peculiar pain I’m in—
I think it’s in my bones.”
Said Dr. Jones, “Oh, Mr. Smith,
That’s nothing. Without doubt
We have a simple cure for that;
It is to take them out.”
He laid forthwith poor Mr. Smith
Close-clamped upon the table,
And, cold as stone, took out his bones
As fast as he was able.
Smith said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,”
And wished him a good-day;
And with his parcel ‘neath his arm
He slowly moved away.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sorrow Of Words
The sorrow of words that rarely tell themselves
They sail like brightly coloured balloons
Lost in their own universe
They spin off the edge of a tongue
kissing air and emptiness
Seldom filling loneliness
Leaving their sound like a symphony
A faint noise hanging in the air
Somewhere in the back of my mind
The radio is playing
A song I used to know
yvette smith oct 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friends
Words:deborah d. smith
Music: michael w. smith
Packing up the dreams God planted
In the fertile soil of you
Cant believe the hopes hes granted
Means a chapter in your life is through
But well keep you close as always
It wont even seem youve gone
cause our hearts in big and small ways
Will keep the love that keeps us strong
Chorus:
And friends are friends forever
If the lords the lord of them
And a friend will not say never
cause the welcome will not end
Though its hard to let you go
In the fathers hands we know
That a lifetimes not too long to live as friends.
With the faith and love gods given
Springing from the hope we know
We will pray the joy youll live in
Is the strength that now you show
But well keep you close as always
It wont even seem youve gone
cause our hearts in big and small ways
Will keep the love that keeps us strong
Chorus
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Antichrist, or the Reunion of Christendom: An Ode
Are they clinging to their crosses,
F. E. Smith,
Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses,
Are they, Smith?
Do they, fasting, trembling, bleeding,
Wait the news from this our city?
Groaning "That's the Second Reading!"
Hissing "There is still Committee!"
If the voice of Cecil falters,
If McKenna's point has pith,
Do they tremble for their altars?
Do they, Smith?
Russian peasants round their pope
Huddled, Smith,
Hear about it all, I hope,
Don't they, Smith?
In the mountain hamlets clothing
Peaks beyond Caucasian pales,
Where Establishment means nothing
And they never heard of Wales,
Do they read it all in Hansard --
With a crib to read it with --
"Welsh Tithes: Dr. Clifford answered."
Really, Smith?
In the lands where Christians were,
F. E. Smith,
In the little lands laid bare,
Smith, O Smith!
Where the Turkish bands are busy
And the Tory name is blessed
Since they hailed the Cross of Dizzy
On the banners from the West!
Men don't think it half so hard if
Islam burns their kin and kith,
Since a curate lives in Cardiff
Saved by Smith.
It would greatly, I must own,
Soothe me, Smith!
If you left this theme alone,
Holy Smith!
For your legal cause or civil
You fight well and get your fee;
For your God or dream or devil
You will answer, not to me.
Talk about the pews and steeples
And the cash that goes therewith!
But the souls of Christian peoples...
Chuck it, Smith!
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zero Bars (Mr. Smith)
my name is Smith
your silence is my trade
my name is Smith
here in this bar you fade out
time heals nothing
it merely rearranges our memory
in zero bars
even time no longer seems willing to try
please look around
empty faces that never quite die
don't be surprised
their bodies move by habit, look in their eyes
nothing is real
if you break down and cry they won't even stare
nobody feels
it's far too risky to admit that you care
my name is Smith
your silence is my trade
my name is Smith
here in this bar you fade out
Gary Numan, "Zero Bars (Mr. Smith)", _T_u_b_e_w_a_y _A_r_m_y (Beggars Banquet/ATCO 1978)
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter
In these last days
In which winter has sealed all life in rest
And in these last mad hours blowing through the trees
In which warm lovers have sewn their final ties of happiness
When words iced cold
Break down
Returning to a familiar yearning
In frozen parks
Where empty seats
Mark the turning of a year
We wait in winter
Some cross by the frozen lakes
Where brittle arms of trees are waving
We wait in winter
Growing older
Certain of ourselves in sleep
For this is a time of birth
In learning kindness
In the absence of the flower
In every naked seed
We find our power
In the absence, our completion
In the ending, our returning
Back to the root
That's buried deep within the soil
yvette m smith dec 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem
This poem is a gift
Free words
Under the stench of a barbed wire world
Flowers that live on
After the flowers have been blown from the graves
In the midst of war
These words are a gift
A balm for the poor hungry mouth
To feed on
After the nightmare of carnage
Of lines written in blood
On broken walls
Where fathers and their families lie
Still and swollen in unmarked plots
These words are a gift
They are free
Washing the wounds
Making speech live on
Even after so much darkness
They are the lightness
Bringing light
yvette smith june 12 2009
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death is when....
Death is when my loved ones must depart
Death is a sharp pain in my heart
Death is this feeling of permanent sadness and pain
Death is when my loved ones have gone away
Death is the call to heaven or hell
Death is an eternal mansion or cell
Death is the lesson i need to learn about
Death is a loss, without a doubt
Death is this unhappy feeling i have
Death is pleasant on my behalf
Death is the day i end my life
Death is when i give up the fight
Death is happiness to the world around me
Death started when i gained my life
Death can be helped along with this knife
Death is where i shall go
Death is close, i kno
Death willl come fast
Death is vast
Death is what i see
Death lives inside of me
Death is joy to me
Death has come for me
Death is gonna take me
Death will stop my misery
Death loves my company
Death ends the pain
Death takes me on that train
Death is near
Death is finally here
Conundrum
I am not who I say I am
Who I say I am, is not, who I am
So who am I?
cue.....'Looks intently at the words and trys to read them, backwards! '
minus so...moving question mark back three spaces'
william shakespeare aka? yvette smith
circa march09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Many Times
Words:deborah d. smith
Music: michael w. smith
Who do I hope to finally be?
Is it not your life in me?
Yet the hows too hard to see
Too many times
Will I ever finally be
The true intended me?
Will the old in me be freed
And left behind?
Chorus:
Too many times
Im back inside
Wanting desperately to hide
Yet I know, I know you say
You have to die
Too many times
You hear my cries
Im at the end of all my tries
So, Im open lord, so
Teach me how to die
Here I am again alone
Afraid Ill lose all that I own
Yet you see me as your one
I cannot fall
And what I am I still am not
At times I count the cost
Yet I find theres nothing lost
If I give it all
Chorus
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Zero Bars
My name is smith
Your silence is my trade
My name is smith
Here in this bar you fade out
Time heals nothing
It merely rearranges our memory
In zero bars
Even time no longer seems willing to try
Please look around
Empty faces that never quite die
Don't be surprised
Their bodies move by habit, look in their eyes
Nothing is real
If you break down and cry they won't even stare
Nobody feels
It's far too risky to admit that you care
My name is smith
Your silence is my trade
My name is smith
Here in this bar you fade out
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Fresh Endeavour
So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.
I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
death death death death death death death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rubbish Tip
At the rubbish tip they place their words
Just on the edge of
Surreal and absurd
A gold leafed edge
A lettered page
At teh rubbish tip
They stage
Their acts in
'THREE PARTS SCENE ONE'
Then you arrive
By stage door three
With a broken heart
All at sea
With the rythmn
Of the words
They left you to say
Can't see the wood for the trees today
At the rubbish dump
The hungry sit
Wide eyed
Death in their mouths
Waiting to eat
The bread of the words
The crumbs from a table
Of rotten verse
Yet still they come the blind and the dumb
Sit up and write
Recite it all night
Without a pause
Or space for 'applause'
READ THE PAPER!
It makes more sense to believe in
The tablod lies
Than live in a world of man made pretense
Take your tongue from your cheek
The fibre glass from your eye
BETTER NOT TO SAY A THING
DON'T TIP THE WORDS FROM YOUR MOUTH
TO THE PAGE...VOMIT BREACHED
just stay silent
Let the rain fall one more time
It's a sign of the times sell fast stories
Falling of dirty ink presses
distresses on paper
OUR DAILY BREAD SPOON FED!
ANGUS HAM STRINGS
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My children, Michael and Alex, are with our Heavenly Father now, and I know that they will never be hurt again. As a mom, that means more than words could ever say.
quote by Susan Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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