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Best Poems Written by Larry Smith

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

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To She: Drawn To Thy Beauty {quatrain}

Drawn to thy beauty, grace rains down;
     I choose this drowning than a drought – 
Where ten thousand are called mine own;
     Yet, deny thee and live without.

Skilled not enough to understand;
     Words unheard, find their voice through thee;
As I reach out then find thy hand;
     I see light take darkness from me.

Chaos knits together unity:
     Thoughts run free, once captive in chains;
Cleansed from fear in thy purity;
     Would I leave, canceling such gains?

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Swallowed Death

I wade the waterside enticing death.
The sea extols the brash to th’ outermost
Abyss. A ‘know it all’, I challenged this 
Watery host.

I capsized in the tumultuous seas;
I’m in the heart of the abyssal deep.
The billowing waters; they crest and fall,
Enmesh and sweep.

Disjointed and astray from sight, I strive
Complacently for that redemptive shoal.
This mortuary that’s surrounding me
Entombs my soul.

I look toward the surface as I scan
The depth of darkness for some tethered hope.
I clutch my hands into the obvious
End of my rope.

The moorings are beyond my grasp. I gasp
And struggle for air as I hold my breath.
The hint is clear enough; I closed my eyes
And swallowed Death.

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That Willow Tree

We stood there so close together
holding onto elusive dreams.
We knew the choice wasn't whether
we loved; rather, to what extremes.
I thought you thought we were meant to be.
You thought I thought love came easily,
but I was there to see you smile
under that willow tree.

I knew we were tempted to stay;
who would have thought we'd been this bold?
The truth was more than we should say;
as some things are best left untold.
I hoped you hoped a kiss might move me.
You hoped I hoped love came patiently,
but I was there to see you cry
under that willow tree.

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Fleece

As the salvo to parry any blow
succumbs to a deserted battlefield;
what does a warrior do who doesn't know
the war is over and it's time to yield?
     The gusto of engagement stirs the thrill
     for one final conquest; one final kill!
     That last valiant stand is more grave to keep
     than slowly wane supine among the sheep.

I canvassed the landscape for upheaval
that needed my sacred call to duty,
but witnessed a warm, sanguine primeval
extolling the virtues of grace and beauty!
     The boredom from this unruffled assault;
     the pallor of repose leaves who at fault?
     If victory (or loss) conclude the fight,
     why end the battle that makes war so trite?

I cry, “Is there a battle needing fought”?
	The notion is pensive:
     the struggle likely for naught.
A worthy offensive
   will all the same
   bring me no shame!
My Casus Belli is against this peace:
war IS the answer; and ultimate fleece!


Casus Belli
: an event or action that justifies or allegedly justifies a war or conflict

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Addiction

My cigarettes and stale air mix into
a heavy, yet familiar smell.  A scent
that starves my soul but feeds the ballyhoo
that I enjoy this. Then there's days I've spent
in fellowship with coffee; a dark friend
whose warm but bitter taste comforts my nerves.
The fear and familiarity outspend
the price an unrepentant life deserves.

I smoke in defiance of who I am; 
exhaling streams of smoke that silhouette
the fact I act like I don't give a damn.
But STOP! 
	       It's time to smoke a cigarette
and quietly deny I've given up
this being my last smoke or my last cup.

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To She: Rendezvous {senyru}

two unlikely pairs;
spontaneous rendezvous - 
your eyes met my glance.