Still waters hold
The secrets of sin
Truths eagerly waiting
For a rush from within
To finally break through
To the surface again
Vessels of time
Ones that have been
Watching for love
To once more begin
Knowing one day
The hatred will end

I am but a lump of clay
Within the Potter's Hands
Help me to be such today
Help me understand

I am plastic. Malleable.
From the roots of stumps
For the Master's Hands available
Although I have my lumps!

He has to pound and knead me
Sprinkle me to moist refine
Mould me in my body
Mould me in my mind

Mould me in my heart
Mould me in my soul
So I won't break apart
So I can be bold!
I can use my art
To have my story told...

Sculpt me then Lord Jesus!
Do whatever it will take
Throw me on your wheel
With Force enough to break

My own thoughts and wishes
For vanity they are
My love for fame and riches
Which can only twist and scar

My love for things of "beauty"
Of worldly surmise
Give me a sense of Duty
To be useful in your eyes

You rose me from the muck and mire
You scooped me from the slime
How can I so then aspire?
Be in myself sublime?

Death, he has his clutches
This assuredly I know.
And I am but ashes

Dust to dust I go.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 7/30/2016

Come to me with tears, my eyes have cried.
Laugh until you hurt, I've been that manic.
Deceive me if you can, I know the lies
we tell ourselves in fear. I will not panic.
Pound my chest in anger, feel my strength;
know I know your pain, yet do not feel it.
Tell me of your breaking heart at length;
words absorbed and heard the salve to heal it.
We together know we can survive;
after all, we'd chosen different roads and
gone our separate ways just to arrive
in time to hold up one another's loads.
You think you weigh me down, yet do not see
my burden's lighter when you lean on me.

She writes from deep within her
Opening up her soul to all,
finding the words like a river
Allowing them to come, to flow


Power transformed to her fingers,
igniting the flames of her soul
Fire given form to the written page
Releasing all she has deep inside
Just like she would submit to a lover


All-consuming fire is in my essence
An eternal flame burning wildly,
never to diminish, throughout time
As it seeps through these fingers,
in unearthly passion, writ in blood


A creative mind is set into motion
Capture now this notion, if you will
As I spew forth, in depths unknown
Yet known, in the core of existence
The pulse of an unrelenting desire


I press pen unto page within love
Nevermore to please the masses
Evermore to appease the essence
I care naught for fame, nor fortune
Wishing merely to pierce the silence


In a sole purpose, right to be heard
Amongst the chaos of every day
Creating a cleverly laid design,
to ensnare those who take notice
Touching the soul of yet another




Copyright © 1/2013 Chris Smith/Lucy Martins


All poetry by Chris Smith/Lucy Martins are copyright protected by International Copyright Law, the use without written permission is illegal. All Rights Reserved ©