Telling Stories

This is not the way
I wanted to spend the day,
mostly out of sorts
unable to order my thoughts
into any cohesive manner.

My head’s been spinning
and it seems focusing is lost to me.
Can’t figure out if it’s my head aching
or that I just don’t want
to do what I ought to be doing.

Editing is at the top of my list
but I want to keep writing
and not correcting the words
that came to me only weeks ago.

I’ve reviewed tips and books
on poetry tweaking, and such
should be committed to memory
and applied to the task at hand.
It’s the deadlines that are killing me
I think because I’m ready
to be free of set schedules for a time.

Okay. I just had to
write that out of my system,
relax to get rid of my headache, and remember
how much I like editing.
Time now to do what I know I can.

©2009 Shari Lynne Smothers

Saints fall in their house,
cheer for Bears to win their prize
home field advantage.

Once bitten twice shy
is the adage that flashes
on the walls of my thoughts.
And lately the neon words resonate,
as are made manifest and stolid
my ever-present collected hesitations.

It’s me on the verge
I see out there
close to losing everything
comprehension
competence
basic faith in my own ability
to do things
completely familiar to me.

Stepping off into Twenty Ten
aiming for changes to
return me to familiar things
put away years ago
causes unreasoned trepidation
and makes me know

It’s still necessary to guard
even possibly rail against
the screaming defeatist naysayer
living in my head.

©2009 Shari Lynne Smothers

Watching television
not the best idea just now.
Luckily I often find it looking at me
as I work on editing
which captures most of my attention.

One of my favorite shows is airing.
But is this the right word
to translate my thoughts
to comprehensible language?
Vincent D’Onofrio’s character is making
insightful assessments from the start.
I’m languishing for ideas on
where best to cut each line for
emphasis and to maintain cohesion.

The suspect is nervous;
surely he can’t be caught
this early into the show.
Now, what to punctuate with
for maximum clarity?

Cut to the alley scene;
put this word on the next line.
He’s caught and he knows it not
thanks to the genius trap
set by Vincent and Kathryn
in perfect conjunction
with the hubris of the villain.

Thankfully a commercial!
I can put the TV on mute.
Oh, now that’s what the poem
is supposed to sound like!
D’Onofrio and Erbe
vanquish the bad guy and save the day.
I think it sings now
so I’ll let it play.

©2009 Shari Lynne Smothers

Prompt 071 from Poetic Asides: Write a juxtaposition poem.

This was a very interesting prompt. Like any prompt, there are many ways to interpret the path to completion. I hope mine is in keeping with the spirit of the prompt’s intention, but I can’t be sure.

I live in the moon.
My precious shell
pierced amply by meteors
to form my oddly shaped windows.
Sunlight and rain flow in
bathing the trees I sit underneath.
The glow of stars reflect all around,
they hit the sides and
the stream I splash my feet in.

Twenty-four hours
there’s enough light
so day or night, I can indulge
my abiding drive to write
to the neglect of every other endeavor.

I sit, invested for hours,
pulled in, moved to tears
by thoughts beautiful and sad.
Page after page is curled
as I ink my ideas to them.

I’m safer here
to follow my inspirations
more than in any other location
with freedom to create
and room to build anything
to amazing crescendos
and resonant resolutions;
Since no telephone rings this far out.
No one’s radar detects me to tell me
what I ought to be doing.

Back on earth from my home
friends and family absently
turn their backs to me
expecting me to be unavailable.
It’s fair and reasonable and offers last minutes
to reflect on and delight in my recent efforts
even when I wind up with
less than the next prize winning verses.

©2009 Shari Lynne Smothers

Prompt: #105 Borrowed Words posted at Read Write Poem for the whole story.

With great appreciation for the gift from nature that we so briefly call snow. If I could give it a name to capture the wonder and danger it is, and the wonder it makes room for, I think the new name would have to be long and lithe and brilliantly lettered.

Ever Enough?

Will the day come on
no longer I wish to see
wond’rous beauty snow?

Keepsake

Lovely photographs
capture unexpected gifts
created in snow.

While it Lasts

Who’s to say when I’ll
get another chance to be
out in my dream live?

©2009 Shari Lynne Smothers

Prompt 070 from Poetic Asides: Make a title with _Day and write the poem.

We clamored over one another
in hopes of seeing the face of him
more incredible than any other man
through the hallowed halls
of our all girls high school.

The things I saw gave me pause
at the ways of “good Catholic” rearing.
Skirts’ hems climbed the thighs
of nubile, hormone-gorged adolescent girls.
Suggestions at him, in gestures and unheard whispers
elicited blushes and frustrated discombobulation.

Even daily was not so bad
as the true frequency of it all.
I only witnessed moments in a day.
But legend had it that the assailants acted
continually daily almost in relay
and regardless of nuns’ admonitions.

So went the wind, as if in a season.
I looked up one day and the beauty
was no longer among us.
His good-bye to us came in a polite letter
which I dismissed
and knew his girls were grateful for,
as it said nothing of the true pressures or full names
that dispatched this almost-priest so hastily.

©2009 Shari Lynne Smothers

This is my climbing poem for prompt 069 at Poetic Asides. I’m not sure what made me recall this episode. It’s actually the first time I saw that sexual pressure can affect a person. And I’m still amazed at the story, and still feel an odd empathy for the girls and the young brother; so it still matters—even though my high school days happened a century ago.

I have a lot to read, including learning more about web design. It’s all a pleasure, to be sure. Learning this stuff and getting good at it, competent even, is a joy because I like it so much. Still, it’s work.

Poetry: A Given

Reading poetry is a pleasure. I read from a lot of different writers. And with all the great blogs I’ve discovered since participating in poetry writing projects, I’ve tapped into even more writers who express themselves in most intriguing and entertaining ways. It’s a great deal of fun, and I learn a lot from their styles, presentation and promotion.

You can check out some of the great poets I’ve come across by visiting my blogroll in the “All Thins Poetry” section. And this resource is deep, as you can explore the poets’ blogrolls to see who they’re connected with.

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