"reentry" poems
I want to be an astronaut,
feel the pulsations of liftoff,
experience the orbiting of crystal seas
taste the rising sun
& the rush of reentry
for eternity.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 5:59 AM UTC
-
Tracing the cosmos
In wide open spaces
Only to face
The dreams that I wander
A lonely existence
Among constellations
Orbiting my desires
Now eclipsed by you
Gazing down
The earth below seems faded
As this distance counts
Light years like glazed donuts
Tempting from a window, as a kid
Licking the glass,
Never tasting the prize
Lunar phases
Become poetic phrases
Cosmic dust descending
Caught in gravity’s pull
Rocketing towards a target
Programmed for a safe
Reentry into your heart
The craft juts and jolts, screeching
Amidst the desolate silence of space
“Houston, we have a problem.
She needs to know how I feel,
how much I love her...”
Static echoed frequency hums
Transmission ended
All hope burned up
Crash landed
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:26 PM UTC
Mother moon
Father earth
Why have i been cursed since birth
Brother trees
Sister breeze
Why must you mock me when i can't stand on my own two
feet
Because I'm constantly knocking myself down
Internal fist fights in which i slam my own face into the ground
My heart doesn't pound
It has a slow steady beat
Much like an army who has just faced defeat
Its become less of a mind state and more of a disease
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC
Why Reentry? some may ask
A waste of time, a too big task?
They committed a crime, let be what will be.
Lock them up and throw away the key?
It’s not that easy as you will see
Because they eventually get out and neighbor you and me.
The deck has been shuffled and we don’t always choose our card
Some of these inmates weren’t raised, they grew up, and life was extremely hard.
Some call it dumb choices, others youthful
indiscretion
Some were forced into these positions by the
culture of oppression.
Now, there’s no place for pity, but many of the
stories are untold
With firm and consistent direction, we can see new lives unfold.
Some have never had a checking account or paid a legitimate bill
These are basic everyday functions that each of us can help instill.
It’s the ones that want the assistance to get back on their feet
Those are the ones that we prepare to identify their needs and meet.
That’s what reentry is… preparing them for another chance
To try and make better choices, and in life have a better stance.
None of us are angels; some could’ve actually caught a case
One more dumb decision could have landed OUR butts right in their place.
Can you imagine life without a job, no way to pay a bill?
Can you imagine no money for medicine if you child or spouse was ill?
Unable to get a car to take you from place to place
Unable to pride fully look another man
directly in his face.
This “second prison” hinders them as a result of their crime
This second prison should not exist once they’ve done their time.
Their families and children need them, it’s hard enough out there
These fathers should be taking care of their family’s welfare.
Children raised without a dad are at high risk to offend and fail
By helping their fathers do better we help the children stay out of jail.
Care and custody is what we’re tasked to do
The examples that we all set is what they will look too.
We can’t do it all by ourselves, resources are what we need
Volunteers and community resources help US help them to succeed.
We have to make them better then when they first came in
For some it’s a fresh start for their improved life to begin.
With hundreds of thousands of inmate releasing year by year
Reentry increases readiness thus reducing public fear.
So inmate is their title for now, but one day they will be out again
We can increase the likelihood that they do not reoffend.
Let’s rally behind reentry efforts, we have much to give
Let’s help secure our own safety and the way that we ALL live.
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
I started wearing a heart rate monitor
All the time
I got it originally to figure out my threshold on the bike
I haven’t gotten around to doing that yet
When I first put it on
I guess it hadn’t made proper contact
I looked down at the watch
It blipped a tiny radiating pulse like a submarine Doppler
Searching for a beat
My friend pulled my shirt up licked the sensor and stuck it back to the place just beneath my breast
I laughed
There it was
Now when I walk
I look at my wrist obsessively
**** Tracy waiting for a secret message
I am thirty now
And I worry, nightly; I will be too old too soon
To be a mother
I worry that I am a child
I interpreted an ultrasound
For a deaf person
A communication with the beyond
The doctor searched for the right spot
Made contact
And I heard the muffled, galloping sound
Of someone trying to survive underwater
I opened and closed my fist to show her the rhythm of a pulse
I have no god
And I don’t want one
But what I do want is a sign
That I am alright
Tonight I sit on top of a closed toilet and watch water fill the bath
The best part of the day
A reentry to the womb
Right before I get in
I remember myself
I unhook the monitor from my ribs
And get in
Submerged, I listen for the galloping
But hear only neighbors
Shifting furniture downstairs
When I’m done I can’t help the compulsion
To put it back on
And when I do I get the message
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 2:27 PM UTC
Coiled fingers grasping around through
a series of grates alternating through spatial relation
Each subsequent orientation,
Rotated at arbitrary command,
Ham-fisted reverie, like the acceptance of Jesus as our personal savior
Colors their every artifice
As if the void that consented to multitudes
Were mutilated upon reentry
Like the volkswagon beetle
Made to upgrade on demands
Or the chemical makeup of fleas
That have buried themselves in the festering skin
On the half opened light bulb of
Apostasy. Hardships
won and their articles
signed, comprehension reversed
With demands to the populace
Each stating unthinkable wishes
Since they've steadily become
Eager in the belief that
Their souls were unstuck
As puppets left to decay on the rain drenched fair grounds
The things I'm avoiding when I stray from the river
Confiscated boss on your vaunted sky
Bring to us your design
Sing to us the reminders we know that will
Teach us to drive our demands to time
And influence the outcomes ourselves
Give us the power to carry them forward
And sharpen the strength of our mind
It's us that you're looking for now
[the manuscript was unreadable from this point on]
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 1:58 PM UTC
My marginal dysfunctions like a panther saunter gliding me out to peripheries edge.
We won't comment on loose banter, someone says.
My mind circles the time as the crow flies,
too disturbed for reentry, tweets the parakeet.
Phase out with allegiance to no one,
Phase back in with desperate facade.
I am blank, bleak and broken.
Well...that's just the token to get us back in ...the Dahlia wasn't always black to begin with you know, so many colors remain to absorb our sorrow.
So lost, forgotten and frail...
a ghastly scene so serene and forsaken.
Do not fret my fellow faire, we are ghosts of crimson lore, pathos to the people...morose...together on the edge of forever.
Interlacing fingers, we stand then walk the plank of insanity...who will hold my hand??
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
I want to walk
in deep space,
pull your tether
& play bumper cars
with you
under the stars
before the sun rises.
I want to engage in
manual manipulation
with you,
spin G's around the moon
& whistle rocket man tunes
while knocking your
sweet spacesuit boots.
I want to experience reentry
with you,
float on triple parachutes
& blast-off
again & again
onto your soft pad.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 4:53 AM UTC
As a young boy I learned
that I had a black knack
it vvas passed on to me
from a vvoman who passed
Some days it feels
like a rabid curse
I don't need to knovv
before you shovv me first
at death I thought
I vvould have been
rethreaded
but upon reentry
I was still clairvoyant
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 2:50 AM UTC
Aphrodite of the Immortals
on magmatic throne aloft
ruse rummager God’s daughter
shield not my fury or pang of demur
my spirit’s empress eternal
desired goddess, appear
seal rank in the corps of my heart
from gilded kingdoms above
fling thyself to this tenebrous earth
atmospheric reentry – to me
jovial thy ****** bequeathed
known by heart, my splits and seams
my bedraped innocence and tears
to spill my trusty soul secure:
why is thy countenance amiss?
who has entranced thou in her arms?
whose caresses does thou shake?
venerated queen so valiant
dilate my love, dwindle my pain
free up my heart to love all embracive
comrade goddess, be mine
be thou, my ally
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
the barn
bat
with the eyes
of a diver’s
shadow…
the dads were all digging
the nudes
were thinking
small
every chair
an electric
chair
in daylight, that motherless grief
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 9:35 AM UTC
Heart had been rended into a void.
Something ghastly.
A change had occurred, and the liberty ahead was suffocating.
This was a hurt, a reeling, preceding an exceedingly painful bout of shaking and the occasion of its call was not you at all.
Quite the opposite, actually.
You were the lofty feeling before a fall.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 5:20 AM UTC
I burnt up on reentry
Circle diamonds, raining from my hands
Candied memories kept up with me lethargically
Sunburnt from too many feelings
I seem to see into the past
Must be these radio teleplays I hear when I fly
Foggy and fast
Falling is a more accurate term
Piano and guitar with which I rehearse
Leaning off the coast with a bottle of Crown Apple
Just peeking into states and times
With my ever solid monologues
And fondness for your hair
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 3:59 PM UTC
In the torn reentry of something less than perfect
I search for elegant ways to change the circuit
For a time that I imaged was worth it
Still I cannot grasp that concept of endearment
When I was always the one that feared it
In the lost temptations of seconds gone by
I sit by myself and ask the ground why
Too wet to fetch tears that are all too salty
In the end I will see that I was the one who was faulty
Not broken or wrong as in a sad country song
But in the sense of missing a component that belongs
To the puzzle of a heart that often loses its way
On the rainiest of days
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC
it pounds with the fervor
of 100 million idiots
screaming in unison
make America great again…
as if greatness
were so trivial
as to be allowed reentry
into the fattest nation
globally –
making America great again
like in the 1950’s
when racism and bigotry
were right as rain
where white is might
and Jesus stood with the nation….
for shame
make America great again
like when industry had children
working 15 hour days
for pennies
while toxifying the land, air, and rivers
beating the poor into submission
with clubs
and immigrating based on skin color
for shame….
make America great
again…….
like slavery?
manifest destiny?
corporate empire?
world police?
Like Donald Trump as President?
making America great starts by accepting
each other
as equals.
Period.
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 10:42 AM UTC
a woman places my hand in the stomach of god
as fire
the stickman’s
barber
betrays
my hair
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 9:23 AM UTC
The room smelled
of stale whiskey,
the odor of cigarettes
hung in the dank room
like guano,
her snoring played
a macabre symphony.
Lying there alone
with my thoughts,
I reached an epiphany
& knew,
this was not the way it
was supposed to be.
All my life,
I'd heard stories
of shooting stars,
weak knees &
melting hearts.
And now,
I felt like a dead meteorite,
snuffed by reentry,
obilerated by myth,
broken hearted
& still wondering
if true love
really does exist.
I rolled over her arm,
tilted the near-empty bottle
& swallowed
the last drop
of stinging hope.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 4:00 AM UTC
35% off all print books on LULU today with coupon code of LULU35
mine books can be found, there.
~
some recent poems:
[loneliness]
the only
animal
recognized
by the magician’s
one-trick
pony
/ touch
giving itself
a childhood
/ an alien’s
crucifix
~
[liftoff]
the scarecrow loving puppet put a pop gun to the head of the soundman’s lamb.
-
my last meal
was my mother’s
voice.
~
[the cross]
the haunted clock
in tornado’s
house
the weightlifter’s flower
the rabbit’s
bliss
~
[scare]
I know it is nothing
or a relative
of nothing
what mice
make
of a mouse
possessed
/ my distance from the unborn widens
~
[homage]
like some verbally abused parrot
the crow
the phone’s
god
~
[depictions of reentry (iv)]
/ the tadpole torching my stomach in the museum of the heartless alligator
/ the spider the star in suicide’s eye
/ the crow in the devil’s purse
~
[depictions of reentry (v)]
/ you can work here for nine months
/ it’s not like riding a bike
it’s more
like kneeling
in the center
of a stickman’s
nightmare
/ never you mind
the bloated
baby’s
yellow
tooth
/ at least the sick
they confuse
death
~
[depictions of reentry (vi)]
night terror, the handwriting
of imago’s
child…
/ resurrection, a memoir
~
[depictions of reentry (vii)]
/ the hands and the crushed mind they crawl from
/ god of the briefly ugly
/ the homeless child of nostalgia’s native
/ graveyard
our game
of telephone
~
[depictions of reentry (viii)]
we laugh about them now
scarecrows
the stepchildren
of apocalypse…
pregnancy as suicide prevention.
be wowed
by stuff
on earth.
~
[depictions of reentry (ix)]
before I got sick
there was a sound
my mother
could make
and a bird
perched
on the arm
of a snowman…
angels, yeah
some
grab their ears
when trapped
~
[depictions of reentry (x)]
the unlit candle
desertion’s birthday
-
the voice
is not god’s
that experiments
on children
but ask
away
-
the dog we buried
is sometimes
on fire
watched
we think
by our sister’s
cooking
Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 2:33 PM UTC
in this sanctum
where no one enters
deity distinctly different than devotee
she dared
is it the audacity of hope?
or a star about to crash and burn
paying a hefty price
for karmas
well over five thousand years old
that was then....
reentry, this time around
permitted only
when duality truly ends in unity
just like the cosmic hermaphrodite
her residual ego
already deflated
needs to be surrendered
at the doorstep
before being permitted access
into this sanctum sanctorum of love
only then
this half circle
becomes
fully complete
© 2019
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 12:26 PM UTC
I have a new collection available on Lulu, titled [depictions of reentry]
146 pages
book preview on site is book entire
/ I am not close to any named animal. I flicker
in two
lost
minds.
~
feel free to share, dissolve, emanate.
http://www.lulu.com/shop/barton-smock/depictions-of-reentry/paperback/product-22811652.html
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 4:05 PM UTC
I went outside and hid god under a rock then went inside and put a pillow over my brother’s face. don’t worry, my brother lived and god grew stronger. in fact, by morning, my mother was so at peace she finished my brother off with a cotton ball. my dad bought a boat and said the older they are the smaller the mouth. people came from a mirror called practice.
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 2:56 AM UTC
we laugh about them now
scarecrows
the stepchildren
of apocalypse…
pregnancy as suicide prevention.
be wowed
by stuff
on earth.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
Packed tight and
smoothly rounded
like a cherished snowball,
I threw my prescited heart
into the hellfire
that is your aura;
my love for you
was a rocket
that could not survive reentry.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
The barrel lied to me, peering through the desolation I believed the spark was salvation but it appeared to only ignite the end of all - oblivions reentry was no stranger, it was a meeting with an old friend.
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 9:53 AM UTC