Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Smokey Neal Mar 2016
I sit and look at the ancient tree
some say it has a story.
knotty small trunk and twisted
limbs the same dark color.

I see small twigs, blacker still,
survived the winter's freezing.
At the tip of each fragile stick
bloomed a flower an a-ged color.

no attempt was made to catch the eye,
caring not so much for visits.
But a visit the flower did have that day
when I thought upon the blooming

they ivory white but underneath
a smoky colored brown
light yellow aged a hundred years
turned my mind around

I saw the tree shaped into
a large and handsome frame
twigs made dark keys upon the board
dogwood flowers made the same.

88 keys of flowers and twigs tied onto a string.
Spring breezes play across the limbs, a distant melody.
Soft is the willow leaf, bright is the yellow bell, but if
you close your eyes at  Spring what will the dogwood tell?
Mar 2016 · 300
Life sometimes
Smokey Neal Mar 2016
I hate my life ,I hate my wife
I hate the stupid
cat we have

I hate my house,I hate my spouse
I even hate the
cars we have

I hate to fail I hate to wail
I don't want
to live this failing way

I am a loser, not a ******
I am no druggie
I am just a old fool

I know hate is a terrible
word to let come out
of my messed up mind

I have no success
my spouse will let
you know somehow

I don't need a
mouth anymore
all I do is pray

I doubt that God
gives a care he is
silent as a rock

I hate to hate
I hate myself
for I am just a nothing
This is no poem. I am only blind to so many things.
Mar 2016 · 274
The Wanderer
Smokey Neal Mar 2016
A single light
opposed the moon
late Spring days
grow longer
A wander in the sky
West rising and ancient
He seems lonely
forgotten to most
but not to me
I see Him wander
I will probably add more to this piece. Any suggestions will be appreciated.
Mar 2016 · 315
Dusky Dark
Smokey Neal Mar 2016
It is dusky dark
Dad would say
chickens roost
crickets have songs
mountains fade
bright Venus shines
lonely dusky dark
Mar 2016 · 250
The was an old lady
Smokey Neal Mar 2016
There was an old lady
who lived in a shoe
she had so many children
she knew not what to do!

The welfare man came
and said 'OH, what a dame!
processed her claim then said
I do have a program for you!
Just a funny thought on the situation of some people.
Feb 2016 · 1.1k
Money talks
Smokey Neal Feb 2016
That money talks
I will not
deny
I heard it
once it said
goodbye
Feb 2016 · 383
Beginning the End
Smokey Neal Feb 2016
South East wind blows hard today
Trees bend their limbs and frenzy

Cold rain thuds upon the window
Helpless slaves the droplets obey

Beginning  the end of Winter
I hear the harsh billows say
This poem was written on a windy cold and rainy
early morning on a late February day in the Smokey Mountains.
Feb 2016 · 226
Mid Winter
Smokey Neal Feb 2016
The Winter seems less cold this year
Not as long and dreadful

But when the northern cold appears
My bone ache for younger years
to jump and run so wonderful

But Winter still has time to wear
Away and make this seems so dreadful

— The End —