Best Smalling Poems
Before there was a world or a word
there was unfathomable loneliness
in the gaseous expanse of pin pricked night
an infinite course of vibrations, sound
nascent, coalescing, gestating,
until planets ripening birthed with souls.
There was only the orb, the throbbing soul
and an unknown longing for word,
conduits formed synapses gestating
to wavelengths of crystalline loneliness,
the aching white noise, static, lack of sound,
and the wanderers of celestial night.
Man was born to such a daunting midnight
aqueous eyes and conical ears for soul
to shattering din’s discordant sound,
no bird song, no harmony, no words,
just an aging, aching, aloneness,
of random thoughts thus wordless gestating.
A rhythm of circular gestation
formed the day and lingering became night
and thus weakened, warmed the loneliness
with woman kind He brought her soul.
Ether resounded with sheet lightening, words
for those sounds were to souls, the God sound.
Strong, silibant streams of understood sound
released from the oval egg of gestation
songs formed as man combined the God like words
croonings of passion fill the nubile night
as joinings rolled-tidal of mated souls.
Word all powerful had freed loneliness.
Each creature gifted an end to loneliness
earth, water, fire ,wind, all given sound,
all graced beloved with shimmering souls,
hatched from the dragon’s egg, life gestates
into the bountiful passage of night.
Cherish the ever present presence of the Word.
No longer alone, a sound vibrating within
each atom relates to the soul, gestation continues
in the night's never-ending cycle of the Word's life.
*My PASSION is SONG
* Many lines have internal RHYME as well as
the end rhyme achieved by the use of the same words.
*Dedicated to inspiration achieved
through the writings of L'Nass Shango & David Smalling
Categories:
smalling, god, inspirational, introspection, longing,
Form:
Sestina
Doctor Maya Angelou the writer
Maya Angelou the actor
Maya Angelou the poet
The singer that was Maya Angelou
That Black lady
With silk smooth voice
Like silk smiling under the finger’s touch
She is dead
Maya Angelou is dead
How does that sound?
Do not let questions go to your head
For thoughts abound
With things that have no answer for themselves
Against the contest of death we never wins
I have memory on shelves
Of those who died and left me all their sins.
Maya Angelou is dead
Not the singer, or poet, or writer
The doctor is dead
Do I hear laughter
Or the sound of ice in glass
Before they pour bourbon, scotch or gin
And say I am only like grass
Why struggle if you never win?
The caged bird is it set free at last
Will freedom mute its tongue
What happens to the sorrow of the past
And the souls of people hung
Where there was neither cross or reason
Beyond the color of my skin
It is man alone that last a season
Thinking and believing was Maya’s sin.
D. Livingstone Smalling
Categories:
smalling, death, memory,
Form:
Free verse
There’s a horse under
the Weeping Cherry.
And the Sky is Crying
too.
I’m sad that I’m happy today.
The new greens are sprouting.
It’s Spring.
The upwelling tears are spouting.
It’s Nothing.
In the shade garden the hellebores -
each a dim-lit, dusty burgundy banker’s lamp -
refuse to face the smalling Sun.
Twin Bleeding Hearts rise
in lone vigor, drizzle-damp.
In the next room, of course,
the Farmhouse Sink
is Dripping.
As it ever will.
As it ever was.
As it ever has.
As it ever shall.
As I ever will.
Categories:
smalling, depression, sad, spring,
Form:
Free verse
Here’s to all my champions, yes you, this is my thing
You are the yam, cocoa, breadfruit, cornmeal dumpling
Pumpkin, dasheen, and potato, in my pot of soup
An excellent, poetic, supportive, pen loving group
You, David Smalling, make my day most bright
With Audrey, you encourage me to put forth a good write
Sweetheart Linda, love her spirit, says such sweet things
Constance, Sara, Wilma, Doris and Carolyn, you give me wings
Carol, Andrea, Thvia, Nette, Joyce, John Freeman, Dr Ram
L’nass, John Loving iii, Poet Destroyer, the best with a slam
Monica, Nikko, Francine, SKAT, HGarvey, Nate, Chris, Sheri, Carrie
Catie, Noel, Rachel, Robert, Matthew, Walayee, sweet like cheery
Susan, Adell, Fabiyas, Sena, Sylvia, Sharon, Ralph, it is true
Barbara, Rick, Diane, Robert Dufresne, it is all because of you
Hai Au Chu, David Byrne, Jayne, Diane, each giving as a friend
Kimberly, Michael, Kevin, not the least because you are at the end
With Thanks always, Joy (Jew)
Categories:
smalling, dedicationsweet, me, sweet,
Form:
Rhyme
Babies, an amazing show of God’s wonder
We try to understand but can only ponder
How, that man and woman coming together
Is able to create history forever
Who forms the seed in the being of man
Who prepares the delicate insides of the woman
Who made sperm plus ova equal embryo
Who makes the embryo equal girl or boy
They use science to explain it away
There’s still a mystery to be solved ‘That Day’
One tiny seed that was intricately planted
Become the needed, America’s most wanted or adopted
Needed, maybe this was planned with loving care
Most wanted, because they made the devil’s way fair
Adopted, maybe this was carelessly done
Whichever way they came, babies are so much fun
Inspired by David Smalling ( A subject he is passionate about).
Categories:
smalling, mystery
Form:
Rhyme
O Lord God Almighty
How marvelous is Thy name
Thou O God sit high and look low
Thou art worthy to be praised
Thou sayest “I am in you”
Thou sittest at the right hand of the Father
In my finite mind I understand
How elevated, Jesus Savior,
Thou hast placed me
Sitting on a man made throne
High above the clouds
I get a glimpse of Heaven
And how condescending a God I serve
For, to step down from such glory
Where dwellest purity and love
Holiness and beauty beyond compare
Just to save a wretch like me
It must be love
It must be endless and abiding love
It must be love far beyond any other love
O Blessed Jesus, with thanks and gratitude
With every cell, with every muscle
Every sinew, every inch of my flesh
Every organ, every bone
That you have connected
With such infinite wisdom
I give you praise
I give you glory
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Amen and amen
Thanks for your inspiration sir.
Categories:
smalling, dedication, devotion, inspirational, religion,
Form:
Lyric
A tree mast broken
Changes pond to pillow fast ...
The frog is asleep
The lilly pad swims
And toad applauds toad in songs
The moon will rise soon
Water turns to dream
Light kisses the heart of leaf -
Tadpole becomes groom
Lilly blooms sunlight
Frog calls mate and hug to leaf -
Day weds dawn and moon
A lilly leafed hope
The frog sang and perched in pond -
Silver falls the rain
by
David Smalling
Categories:
smalling, nature,
Form:
Haiku
While your mother slept I held you
Thanking God for her, and for you
And thanking God again and again
For everything make joy from pain.
...
My darling dearest daughter dream
If you could walk my linger stream
Awhile, and understand my ripple now
An old man under thoughts' full bough.
...
Seeds become flowers and flowers bring
Fruits again after the fair of fiddled spring
Dark clouds bring silver showers of rain
And swallows drunk with joy weave insane
Pictures on the eye. I watched you grow
Out of the mud of my nurturing, and I glow
In the shade with butterflies brimming me
With a rainbow of memories, O little tree!
You are transformed into a prayer today
A beautiful thing, God's purpose on display
And I love you more than you can tell
The best pat of us must defy all our hell
And cross that bridge on which you stand
Right now, a young woman with some sand
Still in the eyes of desire, but fruit laden
And longing to know the mysteries of heaven.
You are my chrysalis, and hope's budding wing
I can no longer hold you, I let go for you to sing
Because I cannot hold again this transition
This marvelous change edging my premonition.
You are the change that makes me beautiful
The love that fruiting in me feels so wonderful
And the butterflies and swallows here today
Celebrate your transition and your birthday.
...
So here under the bough of thoughts I bring
My knees to prayer suckling the sweet spring
Returning to the map that gave me direction
Through the years, and nurtured my affection.
...
O we tumbled words and passion making truth
Bound by self the old man and the bright youth
And swallows weave their patterns here still
And I leave you joyously to God's sweet will
Categories:
smalling, anniversary, daughter, inspirational, love,
Form:
Verse
Before the lapwing learned to fly
Before the flower came to die
Or make a presence of death
Out of the fragrance of our breath
Before the drum
And before the thunder rolled
A voice
Behind the curtain of the dark
Like a quickening, sudden spark
A voice
Across the waters scrolled
And now behold
Words with wings of tongue beating
In little cages, singing heartbroken songs
The Word
Becoming man
Dreaming of eternity out of eternity
That seems never coming back again
And I
Breaking global boundaries with my feathers
I crying to leave my chains
Like sepulchre clothing in a cave
I hating the partition of rooms, the segment of brains
Hating the new world order and oppression
Know my cage is not vitual
O let no genie turn my love into a ritual
I hear their wings beating in head
My heart is a sudden sleepless bed
I write the sound of images
My heart returning where I fled
Time and space chaining me to the dead
Things giving birth in my head.
Categories:
smalling, allegory, on writing and
Form:
Free verse
Offering yielded, yield back to the sovereign king
Devoted to duty, rise in the morning of its flame
Intellect's child, imprinted on Yahweh's soaring wing
Nurturer. natured with heaven's milk, sweet you came
Kindness kindled in hibiscus fire, passion against defeat
Wisdom that shall not from the incongruous retreat
Ambitious heart, panting at the throne for armory of grace
Kingly, in my visions, I yielded you to lead my void
Imaginatively, so imaginations tower may rise aloft
Young, youthful, fresh to hold the course against doubts slide
Organized and organizing the voyage of culture's craft
Sacred ship, through bulrush castling a kingdom's name
Honest to the core of soul, humble to life's bright esteem
Innocent of vice, I wanted a cornerstone of unscaffold dream
Son of shrewdness, Smalling brimming to honeyed core
Motivated and motivating the journey abandoned at the door
Ask now the art to feel, and from your feelings yield
Learned lessons where the learned mind may drink again
Lead, listen, what winds the sails of your people keel
Inspirer of them, feel you not the mettle masking in your grain
Native of the civilized past, nest not now in silence down
Gallantry calls the gallant, and God his grace the gracious has shown.
Categories:
smalling, dedication, passion, sonmay,
Form:
Acrostic
Before there was a word,
there was a loneliness
within the pin pricked night.
Waves of vibrations, sound,
coalescent’s gestate.
Planets were birthed with souls.
There was only the soul
and a longing for words,
synapses gestating
wavelengths of loneliness,
the aching lack of sound,
and the celestial night.
Man was born to midnight
with eyes and ears for soul
to din’s discordant sound,
no harmony, no words,
aging, aching, alone,
thoughts thus, wordless, gestate.
Circular gestation
for the day became night
and weakened loneliness,
woman kind brought her soul.
Ether resounded with words
for those souls, the God sound.
Strong, sweet, silibant sound
released from gestation
song formed from combined words,
crooning fills the nubile night
joining of mated souls.
The Word freed loneliness.
No longer alone, vibrating within the sound each atom relates to the soul
Gestation continues in the never-ending cycle of night and the Word.
*dedicated to L'nass Shango & David Smalling for their inspiration.
Categories:
smalling, devotion, faith, family, holiday,
Form:
Sestina
A flower petal
Bloomed out against sky dancing ...
Humming bird hoovers
Wings and heart posing
On a pinnacle of leaf ...
The eye snapshots love
Leaking through slow leaves
Shadowing the humming wings ...
Hibiscus with wine.
Poised on wing, air still
Honey in the flowers heart ...
The humming bird feeds.
A broken gem spills
From flowers dripping with sunlight ...
The humming bird flies
by
David Smalling
Categories:
smalling, nature, heart, bird, bird,
Form:
Haiku
Hi My name is Jay Timmons
I resently sgined up to Poetry Soup a week ago.
Even though I have hunderds of poems sitting at home, I have
only posted three so far.To make a long story short I feel welcomed to
the up mosted welcome-est (lol) Thank you to the wonderful poets who
left the nice and heart-felt comments in my comment inbox.
I don't know if im going to get in trouble for naming names but
Thank You Scarlett Williams,
Thank You The Sweetheart of P.S.,
Thank You Carol Brown,
Thank You David Smalling
and Thank You Sara Kendrick,
I really appreciate the love.This is the home of
"if you don't have nothing nice to say, then don't say anything."
It's all love at the Soup. Even though I've been writting for years,
I feel like the new guy at the company dinner, overwhelmed by the
talent here, like a kid in a candy store.
I Love Poetry, and i'm glad i found this site.
Thanks again.
p.s
i tried finding you guys on facbook ;-)
is that illegal? LoL
Categories:
smalling, thank younice, love, nice,
Form:
Between an egg and the cross
I pause for a beginning
Quite different from my loss
Clean as a new born leaf
From a sprig of God
I am now the fallen sheaf
And he coming like my spring
Bring dead buds to life
From his blood, the saving King
Deters the looming knife
Hoarding everything I kept
The hardened fruit and thickened cell
Separating me from the vine
The fiery colors bore nothing but promised hell
While silvern waters gurgle at my feet
Aloft in the brimstone air
He lifted to cross the oestrus could not dream
The wrenching agony
Or the precarious teetering
The final exultation of his pain
But I love better Sunday morning
The flower coming from his rest
And the hope of the King's returning
The triumph song of the blest
Easter is a twisted story vanishing the day
Frivolous little bunnies and pagan dreams
Of cash registers piled furnace with brimming hay
Let me disengage, a fallen leaf
I am nothing but beauty in the mulch
And yet some leaf grows like wings
Gathering light
And energy, making the flight
Of hope a better resurrection than spring.
by
David Smalling
Categories:
smalling, faith, religion, hope, me,
Form:
Free verse
Sandcastles by the seashore I build them
No more. Dreams are too frail to stop the sea
Of brokenhearts and misery; the gem
Of faith is love, but man is vanity.
We had no shelter from the brimming sun
No custardapple leaf to shade or stun
The blueprint of our lives to come. But wet
Bucket after bucket we built and sweat.
Then rose the tides, and white tongues of waves kiss
The granite lips of golden sands. The dream fell.
Water stripped and naked as morning mist
We lost castle and love where waters swell.
All that legacy of vintage rooms, realms
Of chambers where the gaudy heart broke stems
Of fragile spears, but for life no defence
Against time ravages and common sense.
The winds of doubt blew first upon our love
And dry sands billowed and grit the green eye
Then seas salt tongue sucked the land; clouds above
In blue frame froze, no parlour there to lie
Wave washed, wind swept by the coming storm. We
Built frail our destiny - some spiral sea
Of sand; shredded joy! Sand castles won't store
The mansion carved in dreams upon the shore.
All this since my heart spaded your thoughts full
Hugging grief in each scooped battlement.
Waves subsided late; the moat tower pull
Drawbridge tight with tedious argument.
Love is immortal, but men only dust
Sorrow is the mold of our dwindled trust
Castle and sand dune bitten, blown apart
Sand castles on the shore clocks the grieved heart.
By David Smalling
Categories:
smalling, lost love, heart, heart,
Form:
Verse