"smithing" poems
~
each intersection, a crossroad made,
every answer, a question began;
each wrong, a right opposing,
every song, a note composing,
after darkness, the light again!
angry words won’t heal the pain,
apologies like ointment’s rain;
flood-washed roads a crossing need,
no line in sand, a bridge instead,
points me north, your heart to claim!
i am no island, though often seems,
my pained retreat, a blood trail leaves;
i find my greatest strength of all,
within your heart’s loving embrace,
held firmly in your grip of grace!
there is no strength in platitudes,
cliches are weak, like worn out shoes;
the darkened bank cannot hold sway,
o’er lighted bridge that leads the way,
points me north, and back to you!
~
*post script.
learning something of
defense mechanisms,
mine in particular;
sadly, when brokenness
is too acute to hide,
the retreat is not bloodless.
bridges built of simple
three-word sentences
greatly needed ... not a
crafted flood of well-worded,
defensive responses.
“i am sorry!” and “i love you!”...
two, eight-letter, three-cord ropes,
requiring no word-smithing,
yet are sound-ly engineered
for mending souls and
building hearts-bridges
not easily broken...
each capable of bearing
(baring) great weights.
and yes, there are notes composing here,
for it is said, “a song solidifies
the heart’s passionate decisions!”*
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 1:08 PM UTC
Beautiful
Is a colorless flower
If I am to use it
Describing you
The wordsmiths
Must work well
Into the night
Smithing away
Until morning light
To find a word
Suiting your definition
Unearthing
Is a waterless brook
If used to convey the look
Radiating from your enchanting eyes
The same that left my heart wounded today
When you used them to drill to the core of me
No doubt making a profound discovery
Love
Is overused and clichéd to ruin
Much too pedestrian to capture what you found
When drilling deep into my underground
Without a sound it happened
That word we can’t use
Due to its short and burnt up fuse
Turned on its light this afternoon
And in a magic moment we both knew
That beautiful, unearthing, love
Built a bridge between us
Founded in truth
Always open and fireproof
Today around 2 o’clock
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 10:44 PM UTC
fall down in new town
and break down while unbound
laughing while melting
and smiling making no sound
finding things hidden
and riding things unridden
while taken long lost unbidden
but leftovers are long given
from raiders undriven
and nonlooking foes unsmitten
burning the smithies
with weeds so pity
the trade and grade
of long lost givings
and unlearnt ideas
melting down in the smithing
because clothes so ripping
cause morality dipping
and effort slipping
and real gifts ungifting
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC
Descriptive that is you
Intensive that is me
Smithing you could be my steel
And I the bellowing breath beneath
To coax the coal until it bursts
And explodes into this
The burning flame
Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 2:57 PM UTC
You wanted to be
My savior
My rescuer
The one to spirit me away
From all the hurt
You wanted to be
The one to fix all
My issues
And solve
All my problems
You wanted to be
The one to glue the
Itty bitty shards of myself
Back together
You wanted to be
My savior
Was it because you thought
That I was too weak
To save myself?
You can be many things
But I will not allow you
To be my savior
I am the only one
Who can save myself
That's the wonderful thing
That's the awful thing
In the end
I am the only one
Who can save myself
I am the only one
Who can **** myself
I think that you
Wanted to be my savior
Because you wanted to
Rescue a broken girl
Glue me back together
But instead of glue
Which leave broken glass people
Weak after it's all together
I used the scorching
Fires from that suffering
That you weren't allowed
To take me out of
I forged a new self from those flames
One made of steel
Instead of glass
I may have lots of
Burn scars
From smithing myself
But I think it's better
Than no scars at all
You wanted to be
My savior
Perhaps it wasn't because
You thought I was too
Weak
But maybe because
You didn't
Couldn't
Trust me to
Try to save myself
maybe you were right
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 7:21 PM UTC
Blade sheathed in despair
Forged from the heat of passionate hatred
Man melted with metal
smithing dealt death with every blow
Cold blood to cool steel
A heart you'd judge lost
But his wavers not.
The vulnerability of Life
blood spatters
like pink leaves leaving the Sakura tree
Slow, as your life withers'n'witnesses
A heart you'd judge lost
But his wavers not.
Back'n'forth the Eb'n'Flow of blood
as life comes and goes
balancing on ropes
unseathed the wind blows
Fall'n'die, unfair
Your arrogance punished by
A heart you'd judge lost
But his wavers not.
Fail to witness, Fail to see
Fail to feel, Fail to flee
disposition to disharmony
Death doesn't cause a scene
Taken by
A heart you'd judge lost
but his wavers not.
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 7:36 AM UTC
Lucious storm , outburst the gut , grinding my peaceful turmoil
Bringer of chaos , unrestrained sensuality you say , heaven's promise you are
Disgusting yet admired , craving like the beast I am , for the fleeting moments you have
Inmeasurable pleasures bought by simple touches , Helene , Narcisse , Venus , witches
Enough and tired did I say , more and more do I beg , bodies mixes skins and blood ...
Spits and fluids bathing the parts of it's wepons , nectar and sweat pouring as vin
Plain ******* , pores ignites the arousing cold , yet taming the hell's fires
******* honey , first sweet you taste, wishing the encore again and again
Waist , slick as milk drowning my desire , tempting snake smithing my burning flame
****** aching , flowing , first sight , mesmerising my hands , commanding this filthy tongue
Glutes , savoring my hips , setting the pace , correcting my core , by it's simple precense
Legs , where I lie , pleading for the feel , for my want , unconceled lust , unavoidable gluttony , just for it ...
Demonne , illusion , godness , so many words for it , none enough to paint it
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 10:47 AM UTC
A lot of poets are smithing words
in the middle of the night.
A new tunnel of memories and feelings
are being made every second.
And as a poem written in blank letters.
I will soon be forgotten. Drowned.
In the ocean of poetry.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 5:23 PM UTC
Vivid flashes barrage my sight,
Down in bed as day turns to night.
Across a plain of no logic nor reason,
Slandered mentality of pseudo'd treason.
Risky thought and reckless decision,
Bear no mind to glamored vision.
No smithing of word may ever describe,
The amorphous pictures I may imbibe.
Pulsating images dot the land before me,
No explanation of the enigmatic mystery.
Symbolic representation of formless creatures,
Celestial silhouettes of their physical features.
At last, a reason, to the madness that surrounds,
To why I'm trapped in my sleepless grounds.
Awake with a start and a startled gasp,
Back to reality where I shall live at last.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
*Wonder what I'll do when I grow up
I could tend to a mighty blaze on the ladder
of a city firetruck
Feed dolphins on the high seas
Explore Antartica with snow up to my knees
I'm the window cleaner high atop -
the skyscrapers of Atlanta
I can see myself driving a dump truck with a load of granite
Leading an orchestra , a game warden in the forest , a candler
at the egg farm , a cobbler in a tiny shop , a blacksmith
hammering horseshoes in the smithing barn* ..
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 11:31 AM UTC
Pounding and grinding,
Toiling and bending,
The steel bends to the hammer's blows,
Something attempted, something made, my life laid bare upon the anvil of life, Forged in the fires of loss, and quenched in the waters of fear. I am how I was Forged, sharp and strong, yet with the loss I am facing, I feel dull and weak.
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 10:45 PM UTC
Your voice and the color of your tone
Plays on repeat in my head,
And I'm stuck, stuck, stuck,
On everything I should have said.
Sometimes I'm a broken record,
And that's okay, that's kinda neat,
At least I'm a record at all,
Vinyl just won't admit defeat.
I'm glass work,
Built by wind and flame and coarse earth,
To create something so fragile and beautiful,
With colors spiraled about.
You are cold metal,
Only warm with the heat of my skin
Holding you tight.
Built from the iron of the blood from 4000 grown men,
And water and heat and other bits of science and smithing I don't quite understand.
I am air,
Soft and warm but cool in the heat of summer,
Gently kissing leaves, wind chimes, and your face in the humidity
In order to allow you to breathe again.
I am the harsh winds of a hurricane,
Destroying all in its path,
Reducing houses and homes to shrapnel and rubble and dust.
I am your first breath of fresh, cold winter air, when you cannot breathe
Because it was all too much, too much, and you're too young to really know why.
I am cold but comforting, there and real without being seen or known.
I am the whisper within the trees, from the waters, carrying smoke along my back to warn you of danger.
You are earth.
Steadfast and solid,
Stubborn and real.
Honest.
You are the rocks and stones that hold meaning and power within their pools of color and opaque surfaces.
You are the avalanche of boulders and pebbles that fall and destroy
All that so choose to come in its' path.
You are the soft soil in which you urge new life to grow,
Within soft and gentle hands, urging it forward and through the surface,
So that all may look in awe of its' beauty,
While you are wrapped tight around its roots so that you may protect
And nurture it with all that you are.
I am the color that spirals through your heart and within noise,
I am the burst of soft light that grows too large, too bright, too quickly,
And I am simultaneously too much and not enough.
And you are soft and stark shades of gray and black,
Pooling in to balance the colors that I have poured everywhere,
Adding definition and understanding
Of why they are what they are,
You are just in time and you are just right.
Thoughts of you are warm and lulling me to sleep.
Thoughts of me are dizzying and overpowering.
There's not much to what I have to say,
It could be said softly,
"I love you,"
Or loudly,
"My love for you is vastly infinite, more so than the universe, and more so than the expanse of the mind."
Your voice and the color of your tone
Plays on repeat in my head,
And I'm stuck, stuck, stuck,
On everything I should have said.
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
*Bluebirds under the farm bell
Rejoicing in morning rain , relaxing
for a spell , patiently awaiting their
turn to sing a tale , sailing from house
to cover on the minute without fail
Gray squirrels working the oak leaves
Busy , busy bees , up and down
the hardwood , jumping from tree
to tree , filling their tummy's with
acorns in the sun drenched canopy
Mr. Roseberry's smithing a plow
Greasing his tractor , counting his cows
Milling corn to feed his chicks
Thrashing creek cane and filling the
molasses licks* ...
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 10:24 AM UTC