This collection represents a sample of work created and edited over several years. Original poems from 'Candlesong' and 'Heartbeats' are included here. Some of the poems have been published - others are new - but all of them are fragments of a moment - the ripples created when a pebble drops into a pond; although the ripples fade, the time remains.
The words are set free to find their own mark - collective strings connecting hearts and minds. Some connect, several fall short of the mark; but if just a few echoes remain then these pages are justified.
All poems © David Drew-Smythe 2002. It is illegal to copy this work. No poem - whether in part or in whole - may be reproduced in any public forum in any medium without permission or by contract. Contact may be made via e-mail address > idds at bigfoot.com
Will You Share?
Will you be lifes silken sandpaper; enigmatic? Will you share the noise of daytime or - in silence - nightimes, saying nothing, content to be? To be as two yet one the same, each unique, uniquely formed but spilling over to each other, splashing life with life, harvesting? Will you plant like for like, love for love, given freely, unreserved and unconditional? Given, not beholden nor behoven?
Will you share the faintest touch of clothing as we pass or sit knee to knee at a table, toe on toe, sharing coffee spoons, skin on skin, the rough with the smooth? Will you share the day after the night before when acid dregs lie in the bucket, telling tales of weakness played out in bravado? Will you share the headache, the heartache of being contradicted or contradicting when were driven to distraction by a stubborn will which clamours, right is right?
Will you share the fragments of a broken dream, the rage, the failure among the pieces? Will you share late night languishing over lost art that will not come or ride the priest of passion that explodes in anger; the bloody rose, the trampled daffodil? Will you soothe the fast frustration that lingers in the soul, festering doubt, needing to bleed the poison from the wound? Will you suck the wound and share the poison, spit out bitterness: spit on gold?
Will you share the devils, demons, fears and phantoms who lie in wait among the cobwebs of memory - all those ghost-regrets, mumbo-jumbo things which brick up the conscience - the pangs, the pricks, the tricks of circumstance that never forgive? Will you share the cerebral skeleton dance, the closet tarantella, claustrophobic and madly, wildly mad; frenzied in so little space, cracking cranium, soft skulled, splitting hairs between what is madness and what is just mildly mad?
Will you share belief, brush lips to kindle fire, let fire surge through blazing veins to a body burning to be kissed, caressed, touched to the quick - all breast-surging, urgent breathing - beasts who babble harmonic grunts, who pigsqueal passion to please the man in man and the woman in woman; the female he and the man in she? Will you hold when holdings needed but let loose when fancy flies free? Be full of trust and in the understanding of love, enough to stay unthreatened?
Will you believe when others doubt or mock or try to shock you out of your belief? Will you take equal shares in the universal truth, the leveller, who plainly states that, as we lie in the aftermath of love, we'll still look ridiculous with just our socks on?
Jeg kan godt live ...
Jeg kan godt live uden dig men jeg vil helst ikke - for the light that shines was a light loved and a light loved was a light lost. The light lost was the kiss of Spring and the kiss of Spring was the Summer sun. The sun of Summer was a love missed and a love missed was the final cost.
Dear, gentle, friend and lover, you were my mirror in confusion. We can never uncry what was cried nor untie what was tied. Our reflection was truth, not lies. Because of other lovers our tomorrows died. No regrets now, save unfinished conversations and a question mark - save years to make some sense of sorrows which touched us both - save four lives collided - two lands divided - hearts spun apart to find rescue in other spheres.
If we peel away the years and say it is forgotten - if we let it simply fade without a word - then we have lived a life in so short a space for so much nothing. I need to thank you for our time. You need to know I loved you. I loved you then, I have loved you since and love you still. Though you may share it with another - my love will linger with you long after the life in me is gone.
Mother's Trunk Discovered