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Michael Smith Poem
I walk an already trodden path...
Uncertain, of future lives that lie ahead
But, in faith I close these earthly Ojibwa eyes
In trill, thus, I hear the old ways in your presence amidst Chinook winds
As harmonic they play across the plains, from sacred astral pipes
Mimicking cricket songs that echo abstract out of the season's last autumn mist
I also hear your fifes in the rustle of the leaves, rising into writhe
And almost see your spirit aura as it accompanies the Algonquian breeze
Ancient ghost of proud, but now lost upon a dying nation tribe
Your music from beyond is narrations of a mystical language nature speaks
Sweeping thrush calls, chirps through weeping willow weeps,
Unto past September sounds, beating down on war drum clouds, of thundering maelstrom claps
And babbling brooks going on and on until narrowing creaky creeks
Alas, whooper wills warning and morning loons mourning, hidden amidst the swaying grass
When I see you, I imagine spectral legends majestic high across horizon's sky
Snowy silhouettes in headdress, drifting in flowing rainbow crowns
And with the night, I see you in my mind dance as the "Will-Ó-the-wisp" just might
Then, my body shivers from the distance, where your flute imitates the cry of the lone coyote's sound
As for all of your Mishomis (grandfather) traditions, I accept there is a greater essence
Kindred I am, son to your spirit and without partition from an Ojibwa eye
And I stand here staunch in cattail marshes, pondering my place in ancestral questions
Now, your answers again begin to play upon the wind, but this time traveling through the November... Whispers on needles of the pine
I walk an already trodden path...
But, each new step before me keeps this culture alive...
Written in honor of my Chippewa family ©2012 Michael G. Smith
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2012
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Michael Smith Poem
When you're walking
Scuffling along in trouble's shoes
Head hanging low
Mumbling moody blues
Well me, I'm making lemonade
Why can't you
Taking bitter adding something sweet
Maybe a smidge, no a heap full of hope
Heck, by days end I'll mix it up
Movin' straight to, getting crazy in root beer floats
When all you see is red
Awful thoughts pound your head
"Honey do this, honey do that"
I'm sitting back
Feet up, sipping lemonade again
You look my way and say
"Boy, he's got it made"
Not so my friend
I just taking my lemons
And making me some lemonade instead
There's so much "other time"
To have your little gripes
Or your petty cries
But, now let's toast away the grind
And partake in some lemonade on ice
You've come this far
"And guess what? You've got your health"
Check your pulse you're still alive
So change your ways
Brother, embrace the lemons
Squeeze fresh into winner ala mode
And "live baby, baby live! in lemonade days
"Ahhh ... such sweetness"
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2012
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Michael Smith Poem
Alone in loneliness
Amid forever nights
And these four walls
In faint, whisper soft your name
I beg out loud to the nothingness that remains
"Please not another nightmare, no more storms"
But, answers are merely glimpses of light
From lightening...
Filtering through the pane
Empty sheets...
Cast empty shadows on the wall
Of places where you used to be
Eyes wide open
Now asleep, afraid I am to fall
Trapped within this never ending dream
I cling to all the memories that I have
Spinning me closer to where you were, in parallel on the edge
The thoughts, like imaginary rubble, comes tumbling passed
A fire for you still burning inside
Why can’t I let go of the tragedies last
And silence your unrescued suicidal screams
Or is it only the rain falling faster as it taps harder, and harder upon the glass
Or is it of your wandering spirit
Mockingly knocking?
Haunting with its vindications
Of "why’s" I can never seem to grasp
All this amidst lost stares into black windows
Where gutters overrunning, burdened by the strains
And I swear I see your reflection
Among the flashes, tracing out illuminations about your face
And for the first time
You are noticeably absent of all the worldly pains
And your lips releasing out a comfort that for so long I've been seeking
As I hear the words echo within my stormy heart "That where you are everything is okay"
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2011
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Michael Smith Poem
Yore of moments pass
From within the eve
Of mazarine
Heavens celestial body
Pulse of heatwave passions
As spell are cast
Of star gaze
She, upon the auspicious me
Sultry eyes, twinkle yet
Flicker, dance ablaze
Thus, traverse I must, to kismet
Walk the red fiery molten flames
Searing coals forthwith transfix
Become sweet rose nectar lips
"The possession" her magical ruby charms
Burning deeper, is the intoxicating sip
Crafting to rise, crashes walls, hearts aflood
Waters washing ocean's staves
All that is runneth over
Burgundy bloods liquid glaze
Monsoons from out of lives
Two souls set love drenching free
Quicker to intertwine
Endowing testaments, hence to be
Thus, through fibers core wildfires reign
Eruptions into ritual
What ancient fates once withheld
As such escapes pheonix touch, euphoric kiss
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2012
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Michael Smith Poem
Through the full of moonlit night
Succumbs a moth to every light
And powder keg wings beat white satin
Serenade in frolic amidst temptations often
Desperation outside upon my veranda door
What brings you to this place, tonight my dear
Perhaps, it might be in hopes of love
Or, ideas of romance you crave, you want
But, she merely answers in very soft fluttery sighs
What thoughts lie behind those sultry grinning eyes
But, what I see are reflections as a moth encircles
Seeking out forbidden love to become entanlged
My reply, to turn out the light and never let you in
Lest I partake of lust beneath your moon glow skin
Thus, then I would be to wander lost in a consequence of haze
Into the moonlit night from door to door and like you, from flame to flame
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2012
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Michael Smith Poem
First light and her shadows angle silent, long as the crawling ivy
Tuck themselves away beneath, underworld of stem and leaf
My eyes so cold afrost, fall like flake or feathers lost, upon the yawning flowered garden
Up from yonder down a trelis, holding onto lasting breaths
Whilst my heart's love unspoiled like a buried treasure hidden
Wandering around my metaphoric dark, I gaze onto wilds, meadows of another life
Sun drops her drizzle, trickles shooing dews of remnant way
And the rising ball o fire's falsetto braises ends of petals silk and lace
But why does thunder strike not once but twice even thrice and on
Pierce as morning rays inward to reveal tis place which I thought to have been erased
To render hours faster, passing seasons after, leaving all instilled behind
And watch transfixed upon the dance of a single gypsy flora
Whos flutters velvet wings waltzing amidst palettes de pandora
Writhes and rhythms weaving in and out of dreams betwixt its currents
Resurrecting the yearns of man for chance, thus to be
As the innocence of tender grass beyond this stained glass window
Wearing clouds of happiness atop my head
Swaying with the she spirit of elements of independence
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2012
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Michael Smith Poem
Further days are passing, lapsing long
Upsetting to unbecoming
At dawn, always loneliness undaunting
That continues on...
By inward breaking in
Will it ever come to fruitions end
The offsetting, untiming, to complete unnerving
This I ask myself, as the sun and I are quickly becoming
Sinking, drowning friends
Deep into each others night of nexus, merciless and unrelenting
The drag of it, an exasperating friction exhausting
By this not forgetting, beneath the spotlight of a taunting moon
As too soon, again the beginning
Of, the into giving
Another phase unto going through
And hence, once again to my own undoing
Upon this orb I do not move, but yet I am spinning, drifting
With a consequence left of, more of nothing, more
But, creeping cracks eroding, what once was forever yours
Of this tattered soul, that now must face its first inquisition heartbreaking
About a love in a tilted world, serendipitous it seems, only when it's still
Or, a branding upon a human’s fragile heart
With "why's" which one will never be fully comprehending
Or rather a hope that may never even be fulfilled
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2011
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Michael Smith Poem
The silence...
The stillness
Akin to shadows, long fingers reach
Warriors and I
Lie here in the hallow
Fear…beside us, beseech!
Where is the enemy?
Whispers seem to ring out
Lips from my fingers, keeps head from arise
To quell eager peering about
I am a boy
But, this night, man become I
I and my buddies…
Too young, aren’t prepared to die
Onto their arms I do grab
Keeping their lives from growing all too short
Then, echoes…echoes. ..Breaking the silence of the still
A loud shot! Reports….
The one…
Then two!
A hail of missiles, I bring up my gun
Dirt spraying from every direction, which way do I shoot?
What I do not have…is…
Time! Time to think
I throw up my machine gun, blindly, not looking…
Squeezing the trigger, RAT TAT TAT… in frenzy, RAT TAT TAT…spitting instinct
Adrenaline rushing, surging!
Beads of sweat freefall to roll
Fingers tighten, muscles tauten
Madness besieging to depths of soul
Then my redden swelling ears take heed
From behind comes most frantic, deafening scream
Victory, exhilaration, hopes of my enemies all relieved!
It’s Johnny who’s been hit! Red river flows his crimson streams
I’m sobbing; I’m cradling him and shouting “YOU CANNOT DIE!”
Then I whisper…come back to life “Johnny, please, Johnny please"
Unnoticed to me, the stillness returns once more and then a paper…a letter… silently
floats to the floor
It’s the words like bullets that hit me, penned from his wife…
“I love you so much, the war will be over in just a short time; make sure you come back to me…
Come back to me alive”
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2011
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Michael Smith Poem
Descending eyes piercing the starry nights
Deeper yet, unto hearts of men
Crossing thresholds shattered darkness
Behold, the fallen angels unbeknown to sin
That of weakest appetites malign
As heaven's tears spilling city streets
In futility cleanse what's evil-wise
From beneath, us vagabonds of broken wings
Empty rooms loneliness desperately
Weary hearts for yearning error in love
Far off stares and blank faces, harrow in oasis
And inspirations forgotten, never peering up
Divine light cease upon closing heart
Earthly flesh feeding frenzies
To another piece of faith withdrawn
Humanity continues on and spirituality dies ending
Some pretentious fly toward false sanctuary
Never escaping whispers, persecutions within
Hissings soft, but brimstone in our heads
Countless fallen angels iniquitous deprivation dins
"Criers" define us as the times most desperate
"God, forgive us, please" hollow words that we pray
"The wicked must be punished" God's eternal now and tomorrow
His arms outstretched further still but, where are we today
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2012
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Michael Smith Poem
God where may I find you
Under unturned stone
Lord, where may I find you
Why am I all alone
When you do not acknowledge
Is it because I have sinned
So I refuse atonement
Does that mean you can't forgive
Christ, where my I find you
In emptiness without your ghost
Wandering within the forest
Off the path into darkness lost
You will not speak
I will not pray
All my things
In decline, to give away
Unwilling
To do your will
I set the terms
I drift away
God, where may I find you
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2012
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