Tag Archives: self-doubt


A Cleave Poem

The morning of   my last day free
before my poem   writing daily adventure
I sit paused   over curves thrown
over new pebbles   finding refuge, unwelcome
in my shoes   now to eject them.

This poem is for the napowrimo prompt #14, you want me to write what? Visit the post to see the details of this prompt.

Okay, I almost didn’t write to this prompt, since the end result seemed beyond what I might do in a day. And interestingly, that’s exactly what drew me back into it. Eventually, trying a simple one seemed my only course of action.

I hope it works for you. Incidentally, “pebbles in my shoes” (left side) is the title of my 2004 collection of poetry.

The Work of Forward Motion

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
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

Early Rising

This morning I woke early
before the sun was out
before the dark was gone
before heard sounds were making
before children were leaving.

And in that quiet time
before I usually rise
I heard the profound
truth in the silence.

More affirmation than instruction
for the way to go next, I heard
Yes, get busy, stay awake and focus.
Once work is done and
obligations are met
you’ll have plenty of time
to rest after the sun is up.

In the early hours before sun shines light
over my plans made at first thought;
every pristine decision is right to pursue.
So what else is there to do?

I get busy before
sunlight shines in the cracks of the plan
before birds and crickets chirp the flaws they find
before the wind through the trees
whispers aloud the secret I know
that really I’m a fraud.

©2009 by Shari Lynne Smothers