A handful of sorrow
A handful of sorrow
called grief
In an hourglass
The sand slid through time slowly
They held onto their self help books
Like walking sticks
Refusing to grow old
Yet clutching at the grey day
Like a constant mourner
Working out a diary
The darkest sonnet
Looks framed
Eyes distracted from the road
Driving dangerously
Oblivious to the passengers
They took down slowly
To their death
Storms breaking even the oldest trees
Falling in time
yvette smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A Song Of Spring
The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood of hodden grey.
The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
The trees are out in Heaven they say.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A brief encounter [with a jelly]
It was a wibbly wobbly 'affair'
Where dibbly dobbly was nibbling
Wibbly wobbled her way
She moggled his muggle
Then turned away
He was smitten smocked dead
By this little twiddle kitten
But in the hot clime of a humid day
his wibble sighed and flobbed away
She moggled his muggle one last time
As he slid and was slewn into slime
She sigh eyes wept still
She sunk skid into a small pool
By the window sill
Slod into one slum
At last they made molten...in thawing
Became one!
yvette m smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Misreading 'misnomer
I mistook blue for sorrow
Misread the blue clouds in a grey day
Full of white unclaimed passages
I made long corridors,
My loneliness,
Old mansions
Mysterious wombs
Echoing history
I riddled the earth
With the decay
Of my 'misinterpretation'
Smelt the burnt out ends of smoky daze
In hidden alleyways
And time was just another number
To add to the endless lists
Missed
My misnomers
'Waiting silently to 'un name themselves! ]
'Under a deep blue velvet sky]
yvette smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hourglass Sand
Through the hourglass
watching
grains of sand falling.
I see time slipping by.
To myself I wonder.
Do we pass with such ease
through the hourglass of life?
Like tiny grains of sand cascading?
When that sand has gone.
Does that mean time has stopped
until I turn the glass over?
And the sand again begins to fall.
Through our hourglass
as we pass like grains of sand.
How many frowns can we turn to smiles?
How much good can we make from bad?
When our sand has run out.
Has our time stopped as well?
Who will turn over our hourglass?
Restart our time renew our opportunities?
poem by Kurt Hearth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
These are the things we cannot possess
These are the things
We cannot possess
The earth in all its 'holiness'
The earth in all its 'bloody defiance'
The earth in all its secret violence
The earth in everchanging times
We cannot possess the earth
Less time
Reckless
Unsolved
Unseen
We can only grieve
And love
And laugh
And live
Letting go of all we thought we had
But never did
Knowing we have felt these things
Beneath are skin
Like a kiss
In a shimmering stream of light
And like a wound
In darkest night
They will flow on and on
With or without us, yet,
We cannot forget them
yvette smith sept 2008
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Submission
I submit myself to these things
The 'small talk' on the sidewalk
The eyes that survey a thousand faces
Without question
The measure of my self and men
The day hangs impatiently outside
Unchanged
I cannot rearrange the sky
Or measure a world in an hourglass
Yet something must give
In all these acts of living
Is this it?
Letting the mask slip
As the light falls to the window
Uncurl words
Unpaint the feelings
Is it possible just to live
Let life in, under the so many illusions made?
Submit to these other things?
That do not ask anything of us
But just let the day in
The world unfold beneath our feet
Shall we begin
Again?
yvette smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
No intention
These words were never meant
The word poetic
Has found itself unpoetic
Never intended for music
Or for argument
There is no epic, or sonnet
Of rivulet
Neither is there purple tinted skies
Or timpanic symphony
'unpoetically'
Unwritten
Unspoken
Neither hidden
Nor seen
There are days full of graves
Tombstones for faces
Clouds full of dreams
Substance?
My heart
These rain spun stones
These crystals of unfathomable light
Night streets splintered with tears
Where have yougone my love?
Where have you gone my love?
Refusing refuge and solace
Some days lye empty
Half woken from their sleep
Refusing the poetry
The invevitable singing
That follows falling down
And spinning wheels of madness
The desire for doing nothing
Being almost spent
yvette m smith feb 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What is?
Love, Sorrow, And Death
what is love?
love is the sweet scent of roses
and the warm summer breeze
and your eyes shining brightly like the stars in the night time sky
what is sorrow?
sorrow is the darkest of days
and you walking away
and the dead look in your eyes
What is death?
Death is you
for you have killed this heart of mine breaking it in to tiny little pieces
for you have killed me
poem by Shylah Clarissa Turcotte
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You
You make me laugh
The way you smile with your critical eyes
And point with your finger of wisdom
In the direction of mecca?
Or Ambrosia
Or some other foreign God
So you bending your rod
Bow
Down
At the high temple of pure wisdom
You who understand
'nothing'
About being human
Distracted by dead writers
And
These broken lines
Keep you in detention
Held back in school
While the world goes racing by
Full of hot blood and fury
And the passion of being alive
[this is just a commentary]
yvette m smith may 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Question
The question leaves a road turning
Trees full of green thoughts burning
Gold and brown
They fall in on themselves
At first they make a beautiful collage
A kaliedoscope
Tracings of colours
Leaving unfinished
The questions
Of life and love
And why
Do we?
who will we become/ in becoming?
wherefore from the root?
Seeded randomly?
When where?
Will we go?
do we die?
when we die?
what dreams?
what dreams?
He dreams in waking
wide eyes
spinning his own realities from within
Will the light burn out?
Or burn on?
And the music of the question
Goes on
Unfinished
Unanswered
Forever pursuing
Forever unpursued
In finito
NO ENDING
Yvette m smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Onion
My love is an onion naked and white
Peeled back from itself
Into it's selves
It conceals many lives
My love is the layer upon layer
The years in which we grew
Slowly and in perfect symmetry
Up from that first shoot
Anchored in the earth of first passion
sculpted in time into one clear white orb
Invincible
immeasurable
The depth and breadth of you and I
Knitted in silkness of flesh and form
And at that first touch
The first severing of ties
A parting sorrow
brings a rivulet of tears to thy celestial eye
Twixt pain and joy,
True love is born!
yvette smith march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Turning
I will not turn again
Turn again
Turn again
Turn again
To tell you that I love you
That time is gone.
And did I ever in that time
Know that love sublime,
Was always there
Hidden in a prayer?
Even after you were gone
I will not turn again
For even season has its time
And all that's ' seen'
Has left us blind
To turning
And to season
And to time
yvette m smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To the Trees
Nothing can tell me that the Trees don't love
In the first light of Autumn
Under golden mist
Of sun kissed days
Those leaves that turn and crunch
So crisp
These frosted memories
That slowly thaws beneath your feet
In oracles of golden russet crowns
That weave their fingers into clouds
Leave traces of a green
That lace and bud the heart with song
Of summers gone
And loves flame burning brighter
In the candle of a year now gone
And burning fires
Frozen brooks
And smoky rings
Each breath as still
As time suspended
Into space
yvette m smith oct 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Breaking
I am silently breaking,
Quitly shaken,
Desperately taken one breath at a time,
I know its over,
The happy I had for weeks is dead,
Its replaced with sorrow,
A sorrow the has swept the mind,
Slowly I change,
From happy,
To sad,
Im breaking,
I just try to open my eyes,
But no its to late,
Im sorrow filled,
Im full of pain,
My heart might not ever heal,
So close,
But now its too many steps back,
Im breaking,
poem by Samantha Guinen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
X
She remembers sounds cracked from words shells
Echoes across abandoned parks
Seashores
Somehow frozen in time
She talks out of tempo
A Stuttering shuffling game
But she is not playing
She watches
stopped still
Outside the life
That keeps turning
She remembers nothing
Not even her name.
X marks the spot
Later her bracelet is found in the mud
It carries her DNA
And the blood of a man she once loved
She will not return again
She remembers nothing
yvette m smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Amen
They raised the oak
Then let it gently sink into the soft dark earth
Soon your roots would be rekindled
Some brought candles
Some burnt fires
But no one could interpret the silence
For a sign
Poets sat in bars
At the same chair
Where they were always seated
Copywriting the space
Possessing a certain look
That wasn't theirs, yet...
The midwife nearly always arrived late
And birth was just a second from another death
The children stood laughing at the gate
yvette smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The conversation
The tree was bare
The ripe fruits picked
Stored out of sight
The most important sign
Was found in absence
As if you and I were never here
And words had been the buffers
That diminished the silence
Almost to nothing
Not quite there yet
As if clocks had a different face
Turning in away from minutes
And scraped back hair
The table was full of distance
And safety
I imagined walking away
Steeped in white shores
Lost in the sand
Knowing the dots on the horizon
Were as strange as that familiar face
And with time shifting place
I would meet you again here
Always beginning
For the first time
[After conversations ended]
yvette smith
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A kiss
Kissed by the mist
Sunlight falling through trees
This is the gift of the day
In first dawning
Who can forget that first kiss?
Forever unfolding
The gift of a life
yvette m smith oct 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Penelope Pidgeon
Pidgeons were scavengers, hangers on
They scrapped and crapped
All over the square
They were worse than the Tourists
With the yanky doodle stare
Penelope got stuck
With Pidgeon
This was not her name...
But it stuck
Like mud to a shoe
And her feet were the giveaway 'clue'
Turned in as she walked
Grossly deformed
She was laughed at, at school
And hideously spurned
Devoid of affection
She had no recollection of love
Then one day in the park
She got a sign from'above'
At first sight she saw the wings of a dove
Descending slowly they turned to brownish grey
She felt a splat on her shoulder
It wasn't her day!
A pidgeon landed beside her on the street
Its toes were similar to hers
Curled up with one missing toe
It's feathers were mankey
It limped with nowhere to go
Feeling a 'flash of passion'
For the very first time
Penelope took it home
In a box
For weeks she kept it warm and fed
Some days it rested on her pillow in her bed
But she knew a day would come
When plump and fit it would be gone
Alas that day had come
She felt a pang a silent cry
But just before she let it fly
She clamped a ring around its feet
And to make the journey complete
She place a ring around her own
Hoping one day, it would fly back home
For Penelope could not forget
That fated day when they first met
Yvette smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!