My Prayer Today, 4/30/16

Hold me up as
I threaten to
slump underneath
the weight of all
considered daily living.
Seems to be seated
squarely on my head
pressed down to my shoulders
straining my neck
and spine
under the weight of
trying to move forward
like nothing major
in me has died.

© 2016 by Shari Lynne Smothers

Poem #20 for National Poetry Month. Completed May 1, 2016. Posting is not always something I have time for, since my days are so full of random necessary stuff. In this second quarter, I’m working on posting more because this is something fully for me.

Blessings from Play

Joy I find in art comes
from visceral connection
to doing intuitively
and watching images
form from actions I make.

Blending of deliberate and
random (for lack of a better word)
additions and distortions
of line, shape, and color,
brings happiness unbound
I can’t always hold in.

It spills over in tears from
someplace I can’t name, yet
intuitively appreciate
that it’s a God thing.

© 2016 by Shari Lynne Smothers

Poem #19 for National Poetry Month. Finishing up May 1, but still close enough for me.

Pondering Poeming

What is it about a rift
the mellifluous tones
rhythms of another’s verses
that can spark thoughts
of my own?

The idea that
I share in a timeless
endeavor, makes me smile
down to my soul. To be part
of something so old, so wondrous
that can command another to love
to tears, to anger,
to joy many can know
but not all can capture.
Even just to deeper thought.

Carving a scale replica of
events fashioned in words I choose
to be inflated in another man’s soul…
Without application, only effort
I am part of something special.

© 2016 by Shari Lynne Smothers

Poem #18 for National Poetry Month

TWW: The Bitch of It

I breathe grief.
It reaches my soul
lays tender my heart
drives me to
weeping tantrum through
frustration from profound
irreplaceable loss.
No way can I ever
change where I am.
Finality of death
is
the ultimate
bitch of a situation.

© 2016 by Shari Lynne Smothers

3WW poem for Week 477. Yes, I’m still here. Another on grief around the prompted words. I guess I can make grief bards out of anything. Still, I will try to stop now. If another one comes up, I’ll try to balance it with a happy one, too.

Tantrum in the traditional vernacular, connotes acting out violently. I don’t break things. Thankfully, I am relegated only to outbursts of uninvited, unrelenting crying. And, thankfully, the spells don’t last long.

Magnolia Swing

Beautiful Magnolia, flower of
my parents’ home.
Stately,
lightly sweet-smelling.
There is no flower
so near to my heart.
The flower
of our better days.

A particular joy
invades my Spirit
swings my mind back
to days when we were
whole, together,
present.
Peppered lightly
like petals’ browning spots
with ill times withered
only slightly
by hurtful
words and deeds.

All that
at only the sight
of flowering
Magnolia trees
enough a part
of my home
to call up
strong enough memories
to inspire a centered
peace no matter
the place my body
stands.

Such is the power of
knowing and appreciating
where I’m from.

© 2016 by Shari Lynne Smothers

Poem #17 for National Poetry Month.

Joy, Still

Have all my happy songs
been writ and sung?
Nothing new, green and freshly budding
to be found? I don’t think so.

I can’t even pretend it
when joy comes fluttering up
out of nowhere, to spark in me
soul smiles I can’t hide.
Appreciation for all
I was brought through,
the lives that guided me.
The reasons ethereal and God set
that I can string words,
paint pretty pictures,
share in joys in others’ lives.

I still can pull
a joyful verse from the guff.
And whatever the impetus,
it makes me happy
just to be able
to say a little ditty
on a happy state of anything.

© 2016 by Shari Lynne Smothers

Poem #16 for 2016 National Poetry Month. It was time for a happy one, I guess. I just record them as they come. And tonight, it seems I was thinking on how I’m grateful for my journey.