Submissions by SmilingAndSeething
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I mostly write essays and short articles about straightforward topics -- oil and gas, electricity, IT -- or about my life. But every so often, a poem will bubble up to the surface of my brain and I try to grab it before it's gone.
SELF POEM
Published
14th Jun 2019 2:39am
14th Jun 2019 2:39am
parking lot
this day
this day
this fucking day
when I look at my bank balance
and feel so crushed
to see a number that small
when I've been pushing and
pushing and
pushing
and looking
and trying
(why oh why does it seem
we can never ever ever ever ever get ahead)
my bubble of optimism
burst
in the wind and
this day
this day
this fucking day
the day
that I asked for help
because I knew I needed it
and I got it
all I had to do was ask
this day
this fucking day
when I look at my bank balance
and feel so crushed
to see a number that small
when I've been pushing and
pushing and
pushing
and looking
and trying
(why oh why does it seem
we can never ever ever ever ever get ahead)
my bubble of optimism
burst
in the wind and
this day
this day
this fucking day
the day
that I asked for help
because I knew I needed it
and I got it
all I had to do was ask
#kindness
#money
#poverty
354 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
4th Jun 2019 7:43pm
4th Jun 2019 7:43pm
Honor, glory, valor and heroism
A random weeknight
still in my work clothes
out with my roommate
who’s picking something up from a used-to-be roommate
who’s having a party at her house.
Young people, fashionable
milling around
younger than me
I feel tired.
How I got into a conversation, I don’t know
but there you were at my elbow
confident in your own handsome face
asking me what I do
and gamely going along with the conversation when I brought up Soviet Russia.
Expressing interest, even!
It was evil, I said.
You flinched. Visibly flinched. ...
still in my work clothes
out with my roommate
who’s picking something up from a used-to-be roommate
who’s having a party at her house.
Young people, fashionable
milling around
younger than me
I feel tired.
How I got into a conversation, I don’t know
but there you were at my elbow
confident in your own handsome face
asking me what I do
and gamely going along with the conversation when I brought up Soviet Russia.
Expressing interest, even!
It was evil, I said.
You flinched. Visibly flinched. ...
#historical
381 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
29th May 2019 3:57am
29th May 2019 3:57am
So much
So much to do: work to turn in, appointments to keep
and a veritable mountain of disheslaundrysweeping lurking implacably.
And I want to write.
There is a baby who needs to nurse and coo and test the strength of his fingers
(and why oh why haven't I cut those nails of his, ouch they're sharp).
And I want to write.
There are three older children who are desperate for my attention
and for the love that I, as their mother, am desperate to give.
And I want to write.
There is that report I want to do for work.
There are novels I've...
and a veritable mountain of disheslaundrysweeping lurking implacably.
And I want to write.
There is a baby who needs to nurse and coo and test the strength of his fingers
(and why oh why haven't I cut those nails of his, ouch they're sharp).
And I want to write.
There are three older children who are desperate for my attention
and for the love that I, as their mother, am desperate to give.
And I want to write.
There is that report I want to do for work.
There are novels I've...
#children
#motherhood
#God #LifeAsAWriter
#God #LifeAsAWriter
398 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
29th May 2019 3:54am
29th May 2019 3:54am
Visual snow
Moving swirling
seething
winking in and out of existence
More than half transparent
Every color, all at once
tiny dots
pixie pixels
making the world shimmy and flicker
for as long as I can remember.
Eighth grade, French class.
Endless conjugations
that I can ignore because I already know
(passe compose, plus que parfait)
so I press on my eyelids
to pass the time
and I wait
for the world to be covered
in a shimmering dance
Every color, all at once
a kaleidoscope of patterns
suddenly...
seething
winking in and out of existence
More than half transparent
Every color, all at once
tiny dots
pixie pixels
making the world shimmy and flicker
for as long as I can remember.
Eighth grade, French class.
Endless conjugations
that I can ignore because I already know
(passe compose, plus que parfait)
so I press on my eyelids
to pass the time
and I wait
for the world to be covered
in a shimmering dance
Every color, all at once
a kaleidoscope of patterns
suddenly...
#SelfReflection
413 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
27th May 2019 3:25pm
27th May 2019 3:25pm
Upon learning the fate of a friend
You were always a magnet
a lightning rod
drawing the energy into yourself
towards your self
It was charisma.
People loved you.
They saw something in you.
You were restless.
When I met you,
you were still a bit shell-shocked.
Something had happened,
and I never asked what it was.
All I saw
was that something kept happening
happening to you
happening
There was always someone who wanted to make you
mold you
into something new
something powerful
and you let them.
I understand...
a lightning rod
drawing the energy into yourself
towards your self
It was charisma.
People loved you.
They saw something in you.
You were restless.
When I met you,
you were still a bit shell-shocked.
Something had happened,
and I never asked what it was.
All I saw
was that something kept happening
happening to you
happening
There was always someone who wanted to make you
mold you
into something new
something powerful
and you let them.
I understand...
#regret
#friendship
350 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
19th May 2019 4:00pm
19th May 2019 4:00pm
Blood of my blood
#family
#MentalHealth
427 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
19th May 2019 3:51pm
19th May 2019 3:51pm
Quilt seam
Inheritance
Memory
Legacy
Call it what you will, but it is
the feeling that rises
when I see the skin on my knuckles
and remember
that my mother's hands had the same texture
when I was young.
Memory
Legacy
Call it what you will, but it is
the feeling that rises
when I see the skin on my knuckles
and remember
that my mother's hands had the same texture
when I was young.
#mother
#aging
#SelfReflection
360 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th May 2019 7:55pm
17th May 2019 7:55pm
Maybe I knew
We have talked a lot, you and I, about love
about our belief that it was not the only key to a successful marriage
saying that if it happened, wonderful, but that it was not a necessary prerequisite
for achieving what we wanted most in this world.
And yet it happened. We are lucky.
This is our love song that is not a love song.
I sing not of your face
or your eyes (though oh, how I love the sight of your uncivilized blue eyes)
or the feel of your hair in my fingers.
This is the chorus,
my recounting of the times
of our meetings of...
about our belief that it was not the only key to a successful marriage
saying that if it happened, wonderful, but that it was not a necessary prerequisite
for achieving what we wanted most in this world.
And yet it happened. We are lucky.
This is our love song that is not a love song.
I sing not of your face
or your eyes (though oh, how I love the sight of your uncivilized blue eyes)
or the feel of your hair in my fingers.
This is the chorus,
my recounting of the times
of our meetings of...
#love
#depression
#husband #marriage
#husband #marriage
424 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
17th May 2019 7:54pm
17th May 2019 7:54pm
20 years in the language of dreams
This is a way of changing things so that we both can
change.
This is a way of changing things so that we both can
change you see
not you not me
but quickly swerve
into the brush.
This is a way of changing things so that we both can
change.
change.
This is a way of changing things so that we both can
change you see
not you not me
but quickly swerve
into the brush.
This is a way of changing things so that we both can
change.
#relationships
#dreams
#sleep
339 reads
0 Comments
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