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Best Poems Written by Stephenie Smith

Below are the all-time best Stephenie Smith poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Stephenie Smith Poem

A Conversation With the Weather

oh, mr. sunshine, how you do glow
on sunny days which your rays do sew
and oh, mr. sunshine, how i miss you so
on those gloomy days when you decide to go.

oh, mr. cloud, how you do impede
that mr. sunshine who is kind indeed
and block those shining rays we all need,
big, wet teardrops fall from your own guilty greed.

so cry, mr. cloud, cry your eyes out
cry me a river and wipe out this drought
for once you are done with this maddened bout
mr. sunshine, with golden rays, can again walk about.

oh, mr. sunshine, keep your head high
happiness is abundant when you are nigh
for even mr. cloud, who heaves a sorrow sigh
warms his fluffed limbs in your blue-crystalline sky.

Details | Stephenie Smith Poem

Arachnophobia

i have eight legs
i am an arachnid
delicate;exoskeletal 

you have two legs
you are a mammal
sloppy;squishy

yet it is i
with the stronger backbone
with the precise dexterity

who scuttles
who cowers on the wall
silk trailing

you with a newspaper
print odorous with ink
smashing in my wake

Details | Stephenie Smith Poem

The Big One Eight

today, sister, you are an adult
among the hurried ones in suits
attention cast to watches and briefcases.

today, sister, i cannot look 
upon the numeral of your age
without the feeling i have missed something.

today, sister, it is not just a birthday.
the whole house has fogged up
with unknown feelings.

today, sister, my throat is dry
when i try to show my joy
of this day when you were born.

today, sister, perhaps
it is i who simply cannot fathom
that you are the child i grew up with

no longer.

Details | Stephenie Smith Poem

A Me and a You

this night i was robbed
of a me and a you
taken clean off the shelf
where i kept them both
to remain forever.

such simple things,
mes and yous,
made of cotton hearts
and button eyes
and trained to say i
love you with sincerity.

and though, this night,
i was robbed of such treasure
(that me and that you)
i can still appreciate
the beauty of rebirth as

i reach for my needle
and thread to sew on 
a stitched smile and
those button eyes and
those cotton hearts.
i implant those 
i love yous with sincerity
(just as a me would say it)

i may have been robbed of
a me and a you
but they've been lost before.
i've always appreciated
simple homemade things
(especially mes and yous).

Details | Stephenie Smith Poem

Progress

We are animals of progress.
While cats doze and dogs play,
We take pen to paper, tools
In our Time-sculpted hands
To create buildings that scrape
The heavens and ships that 
Cut the chopped ocean.
Where Nature and Sense say no,
We defy, we derive pillars
Of magnificent order from
The blinding Chaos.
Once, the ability to fly
Lingered in the depths of
Subconscious, the destinations
Only visited in dreams.
Now those visions exist in
The reflective wing of an
Metal giant, gliding swiftly
Through cloud and blue sky,
The arcing horizon dropping away.
While cats doze and dogs play,
Our pens blaze a path of 
Innovation--buildings rise higher,
Planes soar further, ships
Race past the tides.
We are animals of progress.

Details | Stephenie Smith Poem

Silly Girl

don't think i ever noticed
how small this room is
how cold
how lost
how forgotten.

and in these hollow times
when the air is frigid and dry
i laugh.

'silly girl'
you chastise
as the smirk
stains my lips



don't think i ever noticed
the fan never stops spinning
never dies
never stumbles
never falters.

and in these hollow times
when the air is frigid and cold
i shiver.

'silly girl'
you chastise
tossing the blanket
across the room

you always liked
my lips to be stained
with blue instead.

Details | Stephenie Smith Poem

So Much For a Fireside Chat

night.
my legs are falling asleep
the basement floor's chilled
cold air seeps through the concrete

pins and needles.
why everyone called them that
i hadn't been able to grasp
but they were a perfect metaphor

you.
my eyes have glanced
oh so many times before
glowing amber pierces all darkness

me.
my hands are raw
can't you see them?
his ropes keep me bound

us.
glowing amber pierces
but icy blue blends in
our eyes never meet

night.
these meetings we share
make me wonder when
we'll actually grow closer

Details | Stephenie Smith Poem

Aftermath

mom loved her china.
her collection grew by the year
and time upon time
i found myself looking upon it.

now there was bare wall
where the proud plates once hung
and an almost-fog covered my vision
as i felt cool air on my cheeks.

quiet sobs drifted through the house
and sirens wailed
the forgotten axe had found itself
embedded into that proud wall
pieces of a proud collection
scattered upon the tile.

mom's dresser was empty.
she held all of our small gifts there
those little tokens of clay
or jewelry we had scrounged to buy.

days of jumping on mom's water bed
flashed through my mind
as the floor squished with my steps
closer, and closer i walked
the plastic material on the frame
had been stabbed, and emptied.

mom loved her china.
the reflections of our failures
could be seen
in the shattered pieces of it.

Details | Stephenie Smith Poem

Songbird

oh, little songbird,
you sing so sweetly,
so softly,
so soulfully,
in a way i only wish 
i could achieve.

last night i dreamed 
pleasant dreams,
in which pleasantries
are in wonderful abundance--
for naught but in dreams
are we free,
to freedom's fullest extent.

so i flew, this pleasant night,
soaring high over this world of hate
in which we live during 
our agonizing hours of wake.

oh, little songbird,
is this how you live?
your soulful song of
satisfaction is too
happy for Gloom's daytime.

the next day i walked a path
in which Gloom has full reign.
i passed a tattered man,
in tattered clothes, who
smiled at me despite himself--
for naught but in the dark
can we see the light.

so i whistled, i whistled 
a pleasant tune on this
Gloomy road, waving up to
the souls flying high above,
dreamers who will tomorrow
see the light.

oh, little songbird,
you sing so sweetly,
so softly,
so soulfully,
our tunes mix as one--
a dream and a reality.