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Best Poems Written by Stevie Smith

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

Details | Stevie Smith Poem

Home Sweet Hell

"That also has a steep drop off the far side of Home Sweet Hell" said my soulless guide as he pointed in the direction of the nearby screams.
I could see what resembled silhouettes or smeared shadows of something being thrown or tossed off the side of the tallest tower in sight.
There were so many falling at once the blur of any kind of outline in this smokey medieval lighting was impossible and began to strain my eyes.
"They're throwing bodies over the edge, a necessary task for the good of our home." he continued as he watched me watching the horrific scene of what now was confirmed as bodies.
"They were rotting and now they will rot even faster engulfed in flames!" he exclaimed with a smirk. "It's quiet clever really, it serves two purposes as one form of torture while at the same time feeding the eternal damnation fires of hell. We recently have undergone new management so our productivity points have never been higher." He seemed to wear that smirk like a proud badge as he bragged about the last part. No doubt he was most likely the new management, possibly the one who would decide my fresh new hell.
He gave a new meaning to the expression "milky white" and had a paleness that was almost purple. Freakishly tall which wouldn't have been so bad if he wasn't as thin as a runway model-and that was putting it politely. He was dressed in a crimson velvet suit like some dapper don vampire with the chilling accessory of sharp dead eyes. He exuded terror all around while stroking my anxiety in the most uncomfortable metaphorical rhythm.
With his you-know "devil may care" attitude he attempted to smooth out a newly noticed wrinkle in his crimson red velvet sports jacket.
"Even in Hell, one must always look their Sundays best or in the flames you go!" he giggled laughing at his own joke. I neither laughed or even reacted, instead I ignored him and continued to watch the screaming falls.
The worker bees or drones-or whatever you're supposed to mindless underlings from hell, were now headed for a v-shape among the only body that was not tossed from the tallest tower. Instead it was hanging off a wall like a common prized Picasso at the end of the biggest hall in Hell. Or so my tour guide informed me.
The brutish beasts were poking, stabbing, biting, pulling, cutting, slapping, and slashing the hanging form. "Go then and take her down" My Dracula impersonator whispered in my ear, making me jump at the stealthness it took him to invade my personal space. "Go on" he urged as he moved even more closer to me. "But-" he then said looking down the hallway "who is to say her sin is not greater than yours?" he asked while stroking his chin. "In fact" he continued, "Save her and see how quickly you will be the one to replace her. "
I found myself asking "is her sin greater than mine?" for she no longer even resembled a "she" and I couldn't hide my disgust this prisoner she's appearance.
My five star tour guide squealed "Why heavens yes!" unable to contain it's laugher. "She makes your sin look like childsplay! he continued to cackle while saying "I wouldn't go bragging about your list of dirty deeds that got you here they are not that flattering. Or noteworthy really. You're lucky if you amount to anything other than flame feeder on Hell's roster." He then very seriously added, "but if it was not for the Simple Sinners we would have no souls to keep most of our demons from going hungry. After all we only get fed once every hundred years when we are not topside."
I noticed the dead bodies recently just fallen into flames were starting to return slowly to our intimate greeting party. Most were empty handed or even handless, while all were naked but almost identical in the scorched rotted appearance, no sex could be identified.
"They will be joining us for the rest of our tour" Vampire Lestat informed me following my gaze. He started walking down the hall and I followed as close behind as I could while maintaining a safe distance from both sets of company.
Without looking at me, Red Velvet started saying, "most crazies dispose of bodies because that's what they consider normal. But here in Hell, we find keeping them is productive torture. You see staying in ones body after death is unnatural and therefor uncomfortable, almost painful. So you can see why it is useful to keep souls in their meat suits. We also make them do physical labor like any good slave when the torture has become boring and is no stimulating.
I was suddenly feeling woozy and felt confident I was just as pasty white as my velvet wearing guide. I couldn't shake the disgusting smell of flesh, blood, sex, urine, and pizza from nose. In a meek whisper I muttered "I don't like this.." My words were greeted with a smug "Join the club Sweetheart, no one likes it here but that's the point isn't it? Welcome to your doomed end, your Home Sweet Hell. "
Tears welled up in my eyes and before they could fall to my cheek my thin velvet guide slapped me with such a unbelievable force that I felt my skull vibrating. I was shocked at the guides brute strength for such a blow and considered the possibility maybe this was a vampire. I could feel my tears start to reform and was met with another blow. This time they came with a side order of screams that said, "NO POINT FOR TEARS NOW! YOU WEREN'T ACTING LIKE A LITTLE BITCH WHEN YOU SINNED TO GET HERE, SO YOU'RE NOT GOING TO ACT LIKE A LITTLE BITCH NOW THAT YOU ARE HERE."
I had no time to protest, to react, to do anything and even if I had he was right. I knew what I was doing. My guide started pushing me while still yelling "IT'S TIME YOU EMBRACE THAT YOU ARE IN THE PITT AND THERE IS NO MERCY! NOW ON THE CHOPPING BLOCK WITH YOU!"
He threw me in the closest room that was completely pitch black as he yelled "FRESH MEAT" that served as our farewell.
As he made his exit with his heard of bodies, his dead eyes were the last thing to see.

Details | Stevie Smith Poem

After the War

After the War
There was nothing remotely familiar,
I could see no one and everyone all at once.
These people were lost, they were all dead.

Salem grew dark-blushing from a freshly spent temptation.

A seduction created from the ideas of rash men,
that was then danced into destiny's details by the devil.

It continued breeding shadow as every flame,
owned by the light was savagely snuffed-out.

Murder was now on a most elegant hunt.

Each diminishing spark documented each kill,
becoming a darker list of victims.

Meanwhile the thick lingering Blackness,
kept an informal score as the shadow continued to grow in strength.

Secretly,
far off in the distance,

a melody of sweetly soft smothered shrieks
signaled and started a symphony of serenely sombering sobs.
Sobs that began shaping and shifting into inarticulated sighs and cries that never faltered.

But still,
was met with one lone menacing Nightmare: “a overstayed it's welcome Terror.”

It circled any remaining flame of light like a bottom feeding vulture.
Pushing it's poor neglected lies unto any and all close by ears.

It could be heard loudly whispering to your hopes and dreams-

"Fret not" it almost always began,
"For though you have truly lost it all-your lives included-there is a promise to clothe you."

There was no hiding the disdain from it's voice or face at the last two words.
But as quickly as the emotion appeared,
it was replaced with a plastic sneer as it finished with:
"All things look good, even better, dressed in our monograms."

I found it's night terror of tall tale amusing,
meeting this Nightmare face to face as my insistent smirk escaped my control.

Unnoticed by all-including me.

Details | Stevie Smith Poem

A Heat of a Thousand Suns

His voice faltered at first then faded off..
He watched her slink closer,
carrying her flesh sensuously as some women can. 

Her face, 
a bewitching vision belonging only in dreams, 
contained a gleam of beauty as the nerves of her body were continually smoldering my desire. 

She slowly smiled seductively, 
as she sensuously stalked him,
shadowing him like a memory of a past lover. 

Inches battled for territories on both their bodies. 
Then looking him flesh in the eye, 
she wet her lips-mingling them with whispered words of:
"I want you" and "I need you."

Second by second seemed to loudly waltz all around them before he finally nodded. 

They were intently locked on each other dulling their senses.
They were blinded by their lustful urges. 
Both blinking into one another instead of seeing the rare sight of time dramatically dance by.    

"Lets get away from prying eyes.
I'll meet you." He muttered huskily. 

She sneaked a kiss before slipping away at his words, 
becoming lost in the crowd and completely out of sight. 
He was close behind and fueled by their passion. 
Bringing a heat of a thousand suns on the back of his shoulders.

Details | Stevie Smith Poem

A City Lay In Ruins

These faceless-ageless friends didn’t find her hiding. 

Instead there was a special gift:
The ability to hide in the creases of time, helping her stay hidden. 

It hung there in plain sight, motionless on the wall, as it had minutes ago. 
But none of the minutes had gone anywhere.
Still, 
	Everything seemed to stop. 
				WHOLE WORLDS WERE SILENT AS NOTHING MOVED. 
									Not even time.


Frozen like the dead bodies,
Expressions of moments were carved into faces, 
They were even bent into even more uncomfortable positions.
Reminding any lingering ghosts of a city that lay in ruins. 

That they had tried to escape, 
		They had tried to flee from this angry erupting volcano of death;
As remnants of the lost society stayed smothered in ash.


Time would never stop in this ruined world.

Alone like this-she examined her new face and body.
She wondered if she would ever rub past this new mask: it didn't feel the same, she doubted it ever would.

Details | Stevie Smith Poem

Divine Musings

In the most unusual manic-panic creep,
Wildly lurking behind every corner,
The Shadow was about to recover some ungraspable but always constantly desired idea..

A fantasy, a darker shade of fantasy: a fun fetish.
Or, perhaps, could it be foolish fanciful notions?
This fully torqued delusion can be a haunting mirage.
A make believe vintage slogan ghost from generations past.
That worn out American Dream. That Life.

THE LIFE:
-Free from the routine confusion and disorder-
Dreamed by all but known only by creatures who dream of other more sophisticated things.

Silenced but still flailing at grasping the point or any and all major traffic signs,
the Shadow returned all the acquired mixed-matched pieces and useless information slowly..

I remember because it was a autumn night.
Leaves were falling and there were trees white with moonlight.

It was a cool night overflowing with mysterious excitement that unforgettably changed the mellow quite in all bright lights.
Suddenly there was a new bustle among the stars as the speed of light left a stirring in the darkness.

-A secret above trees carried on the wings of winds-

This covert paradox of milky way wonder experienced when he kissed this girl-was a vivid spectacle of unutterable visions never mentioned but still loudly exuding a slinky lust.

This was a soul cleansing need,
a physical miracle,
dirty deeds done dirt cheap overdosing religious experience with every swelling orgasm!

These are the divine musings of the Creator, my Creator.
These are the ideas of any other brave soul who decide to capture their essence in moments.

For a moment at one point in time, these sacred thoughts belonged to God.

Details | Stevie Smith Poem

My Promise

Half my time is spent bruising my own ego, 
as I literally try to command every cell in my body to forget you entirely. 

To forget your stupid face, your name, and all the things I can't stand about you.
Or worse.. all those things I'm ashamed to admit I love about you. 

In the end, pretending your nonexistence only antagonizes me more. 
The absence of you is louder than the endless supply of smart ass remarks you never seem to run out of.

You take the joy out of every day, you rob me of the fun in getting high, 
You steal the very colour from my sight!
Forcing me to star in this silent black and white film with horrible lighting.

The other half of my time consumes all the rest of my energy.
As I will the fibers of the Universe into energy that does my simple bidding-
Overdosing your every single thought or impulse with only one yearning desire:
Visions of me, covered in only green lace and liquid codeine. 

Oh the things I would do to you! 
I would go to such lengths to pretend to please you.. 

I want to give you the world just so I can take it from you later. 
And because you are the fire of my soul, my one and only..
I promise you I will.

Details | Stevie Smith Poem

All Is Fair In Love and War

Sinking into you is something I find myself doing all too often. 

If only you made this easier by being ignorant or oblivious. 
Instead you wear the gentlemen well and I can never fault you for that. 

But you started sinking into me first, it's as if you tricked me. 
Slinking in the most subtle ways that I didn't even notice. 

Or does this just in fact, signify exactly how predictable I am?
Am I really so easy to figure out?
But then, I cant be so simple. 
After all, it did take you years with no sudden movements, no alarming sounds. 
Looking back I am amazed at your diligence and unwavering patience. 

Tell me, do I even know you at all? Or is it then that I am just so obliviously self absorbed that I really didn't notice our intimacy?
Our feelings that I wish I could flee from as they speak a truth not even I can say..

I'm out of my element here and falling short on how to best you or even compete. 
I see you running the table in this game we have been playing. 
I sink more, silenced in awe over your undeniable victory. 
You, without a doubt hold the power and I can't even be a poor loser. 
I guess all is fair in Love and War.

Details | Stevie Smith Poem

Paranioa

Waned and weary with only toil and trouble
my limbs could only travel this journey tired. .

In my head to in my mind
-which coincidentally were not the same thing-
thoughts seemed to expire from the zealous fear found in your gaping wide darkness of speech.

My serenely spiritual soul's mythical secret shadow sparkled as a jewel:

Boundlessly black but brazenly beauteous by day, but by night,

my mind mentioned masses of decoratively hung ghastly gossip,
secretively shushed into silence
                   never
     ever
                                  to be a quick quiet find for any of us.

Details | Stevie Smith Poem

Trickster

Missing him..
I filled my time with other things,
But nothing helped keep him off my mind. 

The Night:
Filled with two false poetic promises left me disappointed. 

In these two years I have lost all “friends” I thought had loved me. 
Instead, 
They abandoned me, and left me to my own devices.

But the new discovery of joy found in honing a craft,
Granted me the sight of true love. 
Even if he didn’t love me back..

And yet, 
It wasn’t fair.

The Night displayed a Full Moon shamelessly,
Much like the night I left home. 

It was a sky full of nothing but stars falling over stars. 

Instead of fleeing, 
	On this Night, 
		I went to howl at the Moon but what came out-was his name. 
Morbidly followed by not even a whisper of an answer. 

Even though I knew it was hopeless, i still hung up my mirror to almost see the shriek I prayed still hung in the air. 

It was a deep dark voice
-dare I say his voice?

I have always known it.
Even when a hundred years has passed us both by. 

Would I ever hear it again?
I sadly still wonder..

Details | Stevie Smith Poem

Forever Farewells

For a moment, 
Looking upward,
I suspected they had fallen from the sky. 

Taking a long breathe, standing firm with determination, I observed every single detail. 
Some of them were much better off than the rest of us-
They were no longer bound to any physical bond or any emotional ones for that matter..

From afar,
a herd of hesitating horns hysterically hushed a crescendo of errors, 
cruelly cutting away and turning across a zig-zag dance that could be heard for miles.  

The moon, 
brightly busy making the night sky frisky and fine, 
Survived the still sound. 
Gently glowing with an emptiness, 
that endowed complete isolation to all wondering eyes. 

The rest of us meekly posed, waiting for a quick promised death.
It was our time-it was our right. 

Holding my form I became a statue.  
Delicately frozen in a formal gesture of forever farewells.