Apr
30

Old Poems

Lines versified
cut to take shape of
lips of a last kiss good-bye.
Words record the song
played as I drove away
to my separate destiny.
Rhythms played the hurt
of my heartache
as I fought to continue on
not undo my journey.

Old poems
hold the bitter sweet marrow
until I return to them
remembering experiences wholly
and can smile anyway.

© 2010 Shari Lynne Smothers

This poem is for the napowrimo prompt #30, free day (and farewell). Visit the post to see the details of this prompt.

Since we could choose anything to write about, I thought I’d extol the virtues of old poems.

Apr
29

The Vindication of Heresy

Many years ago, I learned of a man
under mental care.
Among other things,
he believed people should be able
to talk through the air
like Star Trek characters
through their nifty com links.

I wonder now, if he’s still on this earth,
what he must think
of his indictment for thinking
of what is now considered
fairly old news since
we’ve talked using
blue tooth ear pieces for years.
We write with our fingers
on many smart phones,
and most recently on iPads
that remind me a great deal of
Yeoman Janice’s device
to deliver her reports to Captain Kirk
if memory serves me correctly.

And I do wonder, too,
when I look at the companies
and finances in play and
the frenzied welcome
of anything thought innovation,
what would this man be
working on by now
having had our earlier ideas
decades before
even cell phones were accepted.

© 2010 Shari Lynne Smothers

This poem is for the napowrimo prompt #29, front page news Visit the post to see the details of this prompt.

Apr
28

Just go Fishing

Turn left at the first phrase
that taps my curiosity.
On the side are the ropes to grab
so I can scale up it
stepping sliding over
the bumps bumping up it.

On top I can see the sea
of all the extending tangents
and extraneous asides
that might be of interest.

What must be written then
are the lines that glow
with the knowing
shimmer of connectedness.
And so, when I see them
at their brightest I simply
reel them in with my trusty ink pen
to splay them open on paper.

And on occasion I allow me
the delightfully twisting query:
Do they glow because they know
to shimmer
or on some level from my high perch
do I in some way ignite them?

© 2010 Shari Lynne Smothers

This poem is for the napowrimo prompt #28, intuition Visit the post to see the details of this prompt.

Apr
27

Driving Force

Sometimes it’s fun to have it.
Hammering out the messages
all come to have their say. Heavy too.
Regarding me as only a conduit, sleep’s irrelevant.
Inspiration is my relentless driver.

© 2010 Shari Lynne Smothers

This poem is for the napowrimo prompt #27, let someone else take the lead Visit the post to see the details of this prompt.

For this acrostic, I used S-H-A-R-I, my first name. I tried several other words, including purple cows—don’t ask—but I returned to this one and I’ve chosen to live with it.

Apr
26

Out of Time

Escape to inside
out of regular time.
All my friends are there.
People, objects,
and their experiences
real and imagined,
all present and eager to share.

We chat, muse,
mulling over everything.
I write fast as I can
anything
that catches my attention.

As usual, way too soon
comes the necessary pull
back through my escape hatch,
back into unaltered time
in the land of
distracting obligations.

Still, as usual
I’ve managed to slip back in
with rare, raw treasures
all mine
to refine and polish.

© 2010 Shari Lynne Smothers

This poem is for the napowrimo prompt #26, get scrappy Visit the post to see the details of this prompt.

Apr
25

I have My Sympathies

I’m so tired I don’t know
what to do with myself.
I heard that and thought,
Funny I know just
how you’re feeling.

And so went my day.

It was one long fruitless effort
to move forward
that saw more sideways shuffles
than any productive advances.

And finally at the day’s close
facing all I didn’t do
and the vicious flaring
of sinus pressure,
laid flat on my back
this morning’s first thought
returned to me:

I’m so sorry three a.m. came
and found my eyes wide open;
my sincerest apologies to me.

© 2010 Shari Lynne Smothers

This poem is for the napowrimo prompt #25, first things first. Visit the post to see the details of this prompt.

This may well be my worst draft yet, that I actually let go of. Probably because it’s true and current—my face is killing me. Hopefully I’ll be able to salvage it in the revision stage.

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