"smither" poems
#
From an ornate podium
the orator spoke words--
..extraordinarily elaborate ones..
as if,
as if
But those who know..
we who have laid low,
down in to the trenches
as grunts, both outside
and inside
of the wire..
Those who have quietly
done their legwork..
who have accepted their
difficult fate as that borne of
and in to, a training.. an equipping;
lay low,
lay low
. . . .
The throngs
at the foot of the podium--
mesmerized by their own need
to be mesmerized, never even
noticed the children
who in their innocence, peered
out from under the crowd's legs
to better see the 'magnificent' podium..
The oldest of which, ran back to trenches
trying to describe what they saw.
Two of the quiet, unassuming-ones
made their way back to the podium,
and in blocking out the orator's voice,
(which to the knowing,
was as that of a clanging bell..)
Now observed up close, the inner-workings
of the elaborate podium
and sat in wonder of its expenditures--
wrapped around such slipshod, weak
and hastily assembled framework..
And in having become interested in the
structure's groundedness to what one
would hope would be a solid-built
foundation, placed onto solid, earthen ground
They instead gasped as they saw its
legs floating upon nothing..
*"What the **** is holding this thing up..?"*
War-trained and battle-hardened,
they remembered their superiors speaking
in hushed tones that even ****** with all
of his blowhard oratorical ******** at least
had a semblance of the podium's fastenings..
Albeit, partially assembled by our own country's
stupidity within certain provisions brought forth
in the Treaty of Versailles,
but this
but this;
This oratorical misleading of the broken-ones
this empty illusion of a presentation, borne
not from a suffering leading to true regeneration
but instead, a distractive short-cut into the Realms;
This counterfeit substance..
as if borne in power, as if.. as if.
.. But the realms.. they know
It is only those down here on earth, spirit
cloaked within the deceptive misgivings
of the flesh-- so aching to establish itself
apart from the necessary legwork needed
to humbly become a part of Stream's flow:
(borne, solely from the inner Wellspring-- deep
within the bowels of Love's True Ache)..
It is here.. on earth.. that you will find
the reward you seek.. oh wondrous orator,
oh magnificent 'smither' of fine words..
**Your podium, a whitewashed soapbox
floating upon nothing..**
--And therefore meaning nothing
within the Substance-Based parameters
of the Realms.
#
Mar 22, 2021
Mar 22, 2021 at 3:48 PM UTC
Born by the feet of the godness ,
I loved her and protect her,
Cursed I am called
Born by the head of my mother ,
He got her bénédiction and left her ,
Blessed he is said
...
Sithai , no word could describe ,
I brought her to my cavern to get her love ,
Yet her Heart yearned for him
I promised everything she might desire
the Sky ,the Moon , the Earth
She wanted him back
.
.
.
She prayed , devote , loving , peacful ,
She asked for him , nothing else
I watched and marveled
Uncorrruptible , unexpecting , faithful love
I wanted her as mine , not her body , Heart , that pure and loving one,
I wished to be the one to call it my home
I wished to print on this beautiful soul a part of mine , I wish to be hers , I just wish ....
.
.
.
Oh , here he is , judging and doubtful ,
Questioning her purity and virginity ,
He refuse to see her tears or the bleeding heart
****** fate , spiteful existence am I ?Hoping for a unfuitful love
Desiring a forbidden fruit
Love
Shall be it , destiny or mighty smither,
Do
or
Bring your mighty thunder
I will receive with open arms
But , I shall leave my mark ,
Her Mind ,
with a chaste kiss on her head
Balade on my heart , trying to take my love for her , to late Ram , I already left my mark
Ravanan must die , so be it , a blade shan't take it , heart , burning for Sithai is it ,
Ten , Thousand , Infinite need it
Oh , why cry , shedding tears for ravanan , we both don't deserve you ,
Nobody does , fadding , my time is near
...
I am sorry , I shouldn't have taken you against your will , male stupidity , I wish .... , No , I am happy enough ...
Sithai may remember me , she could think about this ravanan , so selfish to the end as males are ...
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 4:02 AM UTC
blessed am i not
with a free-roaming mind
to the darkest secrets of life
haunted by their existence
weighed down by chains
chains of false hope
chains of the unreal
i open my mouth
reveal myself
their faces not accepting
my chains lifted from me
angels carry me away to
my safe place
my taboo harbor
the faith which binds them
is all but a mere smither
in the world of millions
in this taboo harbor
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 4:56 PM UTC
In the darkest corners of my mind, I wander
I wait patiently for the day to come
For a smither of light to enter
The mind is a prison
A prison I hold the keys to
Yet, I wait for the cell to open
For a smither of light to enter
Illuminating the dreams, I locked away
At the very end of the darkest depths
Within the darkest portions of my mind
I wander
Apr 13, 2022
Apr 13, 2022 at 11:26 PM UTC