The journey
Word sent
Word weight heavy less
I don' t understand the journey that you take
Only that your arrival is thread bare organic
Flimsy light purposefully driven
Under the skin of the object
You are telling me
That words
Are living
Whose cells unfold and multiply
Some insinuate a 'texture'
Some hybrid and hibernate
Some spring
Some loosen and unbud themselves
From surface forming
Those dark shadowy things
The recesses of what an amnesiac
Has chosen to desensitise
They are the memory box
The shiny button
The torn school name tag
The crumpled first diary
Some secrets
Some return to pure sensation
A first taste of being feeling
outside, of what it is 'to be'
They are alive
Living
After what is written is long gone
yvette smith april 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Landscape Of Secondary Things
The landscape of secondary things
Is the arrival that comes into place and placing
After the soft lull and the rush and the hum
The shapeless movement without words
Or point of turning
After all that is in primal feeling felt
We return and yet arrive at the landscape
Of secondary things
Some visions visitations in our dreams
yvette smith april 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Light
It dazzles in a clear night
Made clearer still
By artificial rays
Making a path to guide us home
It is a beacon
A bright halo of hope
A candle of warmth and sentiment
It makes love sound heavenly
Makes our journey safe and full
As if it were a divine hand resting on our shoulders
Without it
The stars would dim and fade out
The sky fill with darkness
The lamp would retreat
Into formlessness
The sky would be lost to the darkness
There would be no sun
No moon
The soul would close up and die
Even noise or speech or sound
Would be senseless
detached and barren
All things living sleeping
Light
In the beginning there was light
All living things followed
And these were only the signs leading homewards
yvette smith april 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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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
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Worth It All
Michael w. smith/ tim putnam/ deborah d. smith
Kanakuk, you continue to inspire me. love you guys!!
Sometimes I wonder what its like
To be living life on the other side
Please dont make me feel like I dont know
Whats out there
Proof is written in the sky
Hey wont you listen to me now
It makes no difference if I wish upon a star
The only absolute is that the word of life
Is written on my heart
Oh I believe
Yes, I believe
Hey look at me, living life for you
When its good, when its hard
You know me, you know my heart
Yea, yea, yea I give up anything at all
When you call
All I know its worth it all
I know youre scared to let me know you
I know you got a heavy kind of soul
And I know its harder to believe in love when youre
Feeling all alone
Theyre taking bets on who the lover of your soul
And your heart is gonna be
Theyre taking on all the things that get you down and out
The moment you believe
I believe in you
Yes, I believe in you
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What We See
I saw him from a distant
Walking through the streets
His eyes sparkled with a kind of absence
Only seen in dreams
As though I was watching
Those phantoms seen only in dreams
Yet in the daylight he was walking
His bright ebony skin gleaming
Under the weight of a large white cross
Suddenly so unremarkably strange
Yet he was as real as the day
Unfolding before me
Returning back onto the streets
In repitition
A ritual
A journey
Some have only dreamt this
Strange pilgrimage
To the heart of an urban mecca
Returning
MANTRAS
Walking between two worlds
Without waking
And what we see in the silence
yvette smith april 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A tissue's lament
Once a perfect soft white sheet
Now a crumpled smelly rag
Once a song on a serene windchime
Now a broken chord in a backroom bar
Once innocent wrapped up in my pure white bed
And sheets of a hundred others
On which I rested my angelic head
Hopes smashed
Dreams of serviette fame defeated
Now blown away
Under a barrage of vulgar sneezes
No gentle soft lips to tap and pamper after meals
Only rough hands that grab
With old food long congealed
My hope for better things shattered, scattered torn
My dreams of being a 'Hollywood handkerchief flattened
Alas! never born
Only a snotty nostril symphony plays for me
In inharmonious keys
Once used up, scrunched up, and forgotten,
But still I dream of better things,
If only I' been made from cotton!
yvette smith
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I told you
Telling grey clouds
Telling silent birds
Telling tall trees
These things
That have lain waste
This winter soil
That binds its roots around the dead
Telling all who will listen
Who will hear
That it loved once, lived here
Underneath the shape of things
Felt breathed love.
If I had told you
Only you,
Would you still be here?
Still, in love?
yvette m smith nov 2008
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry
These words are not porcelain
Nor are they sculpted from a certain glass
Nor do they shine even after the hour is passed
But they break like flesh and bone
They are a metaphor
For china
For fragile things
And underneath lies the poetry
Beneath the skin
It lives and breathes
Some senses burn hot
Some passion dry cold
But beneath the tempest
Lies the still hour glass
Of all thats told
And these words are the flesh and the bone
The lines in your head
The shadow in the photograph
The stories you have lived
For who can read you, after words?
Who can know the journey you have taken?
Or understand such imprints in the sand?
And yet they the live and leave their sign
In the body of one life
yvette smith feb 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have written
And I have written sorrow many times
Yet never cried
These tears
I have written laughter in sunspilt skies
Though kept my laughter hidden out of view
And what you see, you who see these words?
What you see is true, yet not all true
For words hang in the air
Under a vacant sky
Leaving no trace or sign or clue
Of what is lived
Of what is breathed
And concieved
In every careful wording of an 'I'
In every other that finds a 'you'
I have written sorrow many times
With eyes unwept
For fallen trees and generations gone
Keeping their secrets and their brokeness
In all that cannot tell itself
Yet travels in the silence between what is said
And what is dead, and what is gone
yvette smith march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love is it?
Love what is love?
Is it a handbag, or glove?
Is it that certain look you wear?
At that certain time?
Is it the turn in the year?
Is it a sign?
And can we buy it?
And will we leave it all behind?
In the things shed
The skin surface of things
As they appear?
Will they dissapear?
Into the turn in the year
The being alone too much?
and the crowd who will see them
So many loves?
Do we even count them, know them?
Next year we will have forgotten
The first line of the song
That showered them in rain
And yet that first smile
Of your first love
Is still here
Standing in the shadows
Shedding light
And how much did it cost?
This love without money?
And was it worth the fall, into love?
yvette m smith july 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Ever
Don't ever let me go,
Though I may fail you
And break you
And take you to places you don't want to go,
Take a moment to forget what love is
All the strange euphemisms
That one word takes
And the vows we never keep
And the dark places where love weeps
And let love speak
As if for the first time
When you were mine
For all of love
Is condensed into one heart one place
It is the soul at the bright centre
A world within a world
The human in the human race
yvette smith great poet of london town
april 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anthem For Christmas
Words: gloria gaither
Music: michael w. smith
In the space of the beginning
Was the living word of light
When this word was clearly spoken
All that came to be was right
All creation had a language
Words to say what must be said
All day long the heavens whispered
Signing words in scarlet red
Some failed to understand it
So God spoke his final word
On a silent night in judahs
Hills a babys cry was heard
Glory! sang the angel chorus
Glory! echoed back the night
Love has come to walk among us
Christ the lord is born this night
All creation sing his praises
Earth and heaven praise his name
All who live come join the chorus
Find the words his love proclaim
Find the words his love proclaim
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am forever
I am forever the lover,
The loser
Life's dreamer
Streets walker
Smooth talker
I am forever in the journey of
An untouched sea
Seeming in calm
Soul quiet
Uncertain of the future
There will always be
I am forever the singer
The song
The poet
That travels light
The shapeshifter
Bearing those unseen promises
Who will carry this other world tonight?
I am forever the cracked glass
The shifting light
The moon dancing upon water
Thirsty and hungry
I am forever
The lonely
The lived in
The empty house
Full of noise and chattering bodies
The endless routine
I am forever the living
And the dead
Times traveller
Year taker
unseeing beauty
I am forever the living the breathing
Taking back
With one step
Full of empty
Living on
Knowing
I am forever
In the last sleep
In the arms of another
World to come.
yvette m smith 18.2.09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Term
At the last minute a word is waiting
not heard that way before and not to be
repeated or ever be remembered
one that always had been a household word
used in speaking of the ordinary
everyday recurrences of living
not newly chosen or long considered
or a matter for comment afterward
who would ever have thought it was the one
saying itself from the beginning through
all its uses and circumstances to
utter at last that meaning of its own
for which it had long been the only word
though it seems now that any word would do
poem by William Stanley Merwin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grand Central Lonely
At Grand Central 'lonely'
The workers are all going home
Leaving the dregs of the day
The littered side streets
The delinquent and the hobo
And the street musician
Those who are oblivious to time
Who move in and out of it
With drifting thoughts
More lonely than lonely?
These are the silhouettes
Leaving scattered patterns
Of broken stars
Their long forgotten
[ encores ] ]
Some twist and turn
Some shatter into dust and light
And in the sudden shift, dance with the living
colours cascading down bright rivers
Into a monet or a still life
In one last
'As if to say all men are born alone
They will depart this way'
Yet we who have the' light of the living'
Who shake the dust off the dregs of the day
Who hold no candle for the lost
But carry the same solitary journey
In punctuated arrivals and departures
Have we forgotten that god is in their eyes?
They leave no traces
But in their dreams,
Are they not the angels who have come to warn us?
yvette smith march 2009
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reading Me
There is a chance I will go unseen
Under the pattern of things
Swimming just beneath
Your distracted gaze
You will read me
At least this far
The space between
Eye to page
But I will go largely unnoticed
The secret is
I always emerge
But as someone else
A fragment
A piece of shining glass
The photograph
Look closely
And you will see every i
Is a particle
Shaped into colour
Shade
Form made sense
Texture as soft as skin
Glossy print
Half felt
You will read me
With distracted eye
But I will remain
hidden
yvette m smith 18.9.08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These Are Just Years
i thought home is where we went when we fell out of favour
ive since learned that home is where we go to learn what favours are
home is a language we all understand
and this is how the language came to me
i realise
home is where we dont feel things
fortune has arranged that the language wont abandon us
it never will abandon us
if you dont miss your home
i cant remember much about my home
when im away from...
home, where were welcome
we appear to be like you
the were welcome when we
appear to be alike
living in fiction
just seems much better than living in words
if you live in fiction
homes no match for a word
ever existence
the more you go on the same as before
the more you light up the same as this time
the more you sing
all your songs about
all your...
living in fiction
is much more better than living in words
if you live in fiction
homes much better than words
living in fiction
just seems much better than living in words
if you live in fiction
then homes no better than words
im in fiction [x6]
and what i see it seems so standard
it always seems that youre left stranded [x6]
why dont you look beond
the village wall?
look beyond the village wall
weve got four walls at home
got four walls at home
and these walls around your head
thats what they are
theyre walls around your head
an empty head is creative
and direct me
to where you come from
and what you thought you knew
where you come from
[?]
home is the most overused word [x4]
love is the most overused word
just are the most overused words
picture this the most
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Love The Word Hope
I love the word hope 'tis a great word it keeps reminding you when you are down
That in many ways you are lucky you are not the worst off in the town
Compared to some you are quite lucky and though you may not be one of the privileged few
There's hope and comfort in the thought that many are worse off than you.
I love the word hope it seems positive to hope for the good days ahead
For life for you is scarce worth living if the hope in your heart it is dead
To hope for a better tomorrow is the thing that keeps us keeping on
For you do not have much to live for if hope out of your life is gone.
I love the word hope it's uplifting for those who are feeling quite low
For as they say hope springs eternal and out of hope success can grow
And one can only see a dark future for one who is struggling to cope
If that person has lost the great gift the gift that we all know as hope.
I love the word hope it's a great gift those who have it in them have fight
They keep on going through the dark tunnel till finally they reach the light
And when you retain hope through your hard days you are telling the World I'm alive
For without it life on you much harder and you find it so hard to survive.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sorry
Sorry I could not be there
Open my face
Surround you with lies
Comfort hides in disguise
And these are the masks
We carefully wear
Worn down
We bear them
For every occasion
Births
Marriages
And death
They keep us safe
A hearts distance
Out of arms reach
Love
I am sorry that I never told you these things,
About, what it is to live just beneath the surface
A breath away
Skin deep,
And yet
There is something left unloved
Like love.
And sorry, sorry, sorry,
So much left
Unturned unseen
These invisible things
My love, my love.
Yvette M Smith poet of uk
june 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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