Tag Archives: random

Restless

Lately, every time I
pick up a pen
songs come to mind.
First lines that invite
joy sorrow love hope from
times I only vaguely
recall, memories long faded
leaving only the
resonating emotions.

Feelings betray me
pushing up random smiles
shoving out unexpected tears
pulling up old songs;
playing the familiar tunes in my head
to keep themselves awake.

I wish they were dormant
not mingling with my present
to at least allow me to
pretend to be peaceful.

© 2011 Shari Lynne Smothers

Process notes: First, old songs brought up old feelings and faded memories. Then I wondered about what it was exactly that brought me to the old music.

Insomniac Nights

Can’t account for when they
assail me. Although,
I’ve noticed a pattern of
when I declare sleep will rule
it mockingly evades me
as if to say
whatever damned mocking thing
it says.

My worst nights are those
when I’m forced to lay there
mapping ceiling bumps
in the barely moonlit room,
listening for
shifting carpet fibers,
wondering if there are any
nocturnal bugs trekking through;
hearing the birds
scratching the awning
on their way
to some secret rendezvous.

All because I have
an important thing to do shortly.

My best nights are those
where I have no appointment
to face in a few hours.
I can get up and indulge
my lack of sleep with
YouTube, writing, reading,
Lego’s
not necessarily all or in that order.
Just whatever entertains me, things
that let me say, to sleep,
whatever damned snubbing thing
I can find to say.

© 2011 Shari Lynne Smothers

Informed

All the world is
far removed from me
much as I
want to touch it.
Vicariously only
can I engage just now,
from my hovel
through my window
into cyberspace.
I see what people
want to show
of the lives they lead.
Who’s killing, loving,
having a
Chernobyl meltdown;
mentally challenged brothers
get the book
thrown at them
while great villains,
not so much.
Political strife,
economic difficulty
moral bankruptcy
foreign governments
posture to save face.

Short of everything
and still properly sated,
I return
to myself disconnected
as the muck of the world
sloughs off me
settles to the floor
where I can sift through
to find
my poetical fodder.

© 2011 Shari Lynne Smothers

Optimism

Up the water spout
went the itsy bitsy spider
searching out a drop
to end its drought.

Down came the rain
overdoing the thing.
But the tiny spider
only rode down
a wave, didn’t try
to catch on to anything;
reveling
in the crazy
ride to the bottom.

She made it in
breathless
drenched
empty handed,
with only
a grin for what
was to come:
The challenge to
again try her skill
at Water Spout Scaling.

© 2011 Shari Lynne Smothers

#4 for National Poetry Month