Day 2 at the WritersDigest.com 2020 NOVEMBER PAD CHAPBOOK CHALLENGE and the prompt is/was...
UNEXPECTED
(c) 2020 – G. Smith (BMI)
==•==
Behind those dark glasses,
Beneath those bright skies,
I found the answer,
To all of my “Why’s.”
I wasn’t looking,
But all I could see;
Was my reason for being,
Was looking at me.
That summer at Six Flags,
In the lot parking cars,
With the sun in the morning,
Or at night with the stars;
Was just paying for college,
How would I know,
That a quick simple smile,
Would change my life so?
Behind those dark glasses,
Beneath those bright skies,
I found the answer,
To all of my “Why’s.”
I wasn’t looking,
But all I could see;
Was my reason for being,
Was looking at me.
We worked in the rain,
We worked in the heat,
We worked when the blacktop,
Melted our feet.
We found each other,
When we found we were lost;
And gave all we had,
Without counting the cost.
Behind those dark glasses,
Beneath those bright skies,
I found the answer,
To all of my “Why’s.”
I wasn’t looking,
But all I could see;
Was my reason for being,
Was looking at me.
These many years later,
I still recall,
How it felt knowing then,
That I had it all.
And,
Behind those dark glasses,
Beneath those bright skies,
I found the answer,
To all of my “Why’s.”
I wasn’t looking,
But all I could see;
Was my reason for being,
Was looking at me.
My reason for being,
Is still looking at me.
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G. C. Smith / Blog
THREE
Hadda write something with a number in title for the Write Better Poetry 2020 November Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge... Hope the following counts~ 🙄
THREE G. Smith (BMI) =•=•=•= Three in the morning, Halfway to dawn, The house is so empty, Whenever you’re gone. Still I walk the line, That we both have drawn; At three in the morning, Halfway to dawn.
After two broken hearts, Third time’s the charm; Still it’s three strikes and you’re out, They send you back to the farm. And three on a match, Brings somebody harm; But after two broken hearts, Maybe third time’s the charm.
Three little words, That changed everything, The first time I hear ‘em, They made my heart sing. Said from the heart, They led to this ring. Three little words, That change everything.
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THE STRENGTH
It being Tuesday, the Write Better Poetry November PAD Chapbook Challenge was a 2-fer as per usual ~ Write a HARD piece or an EASY piece...
Being who I am, I hadda do ‘em both together...
THE STRENGTH (c) 2020 - G. Smith (BMI) ~=~=~ It’s hard to take it easy, When your world is burning down; When it seems like everything’s gone up in flames. When it feels like it’s a matter, Of life or death, life or death, But folks treat it like it’s fun and games, fun and games.
Yeah, it’s hard to take it easy, When you’re running out of gas, When you’re broken down on the shoulder of the road; When nothing wants to start up, And no other ride’s in sight, in sight, And you’re carrying a load, a heavy load.
Is the light at the end of the tunnel, Just an oncoming train? Is the cloud on the horizon, Bringing winds and heavy rain? I can try to white-knuckle things, Back into their place; But then I hear His quiet voice, And I feel His saving grace.
Yes, it’s hard to take it easy, When you try it on your own; When you’re feeling all alone; Weary from the burden; Yet He’s got the strength to lift me, the strength that, Rolled away the stone, the strength I’ve always known, to heal me soul and bone, and that rolled, Away the stone,
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OUR YOUNG’NS
The Writers Digest/Write Better Poetry PAD Chapbook Challenge daily prompt was another “fill in the blank,” as on OUR (BLANK).
Here’s how I filled it out~
OUR YOUNG’NS (c) 2020 - G. Smith (BMI) ===•••=== Our young’ns are ours, But they’re definitely themselves; Just look at their pictures; Up there on the shelves.
Our oldest one looks, A little like me, ‘Round his chin and his nose, It’s easy to see.
His smile and his dimples, Are hers through and through, And his easy going style, Match her eyes of light blue.
Our youngest boy’s slender, With red spikey hair; A gentle kind spirit, And he’s strong as a bear.
He loves hunting and fishing, And hiking the trails. Old country music, And shaggy dog tales.
Our young’ns, our young’ns, Are steeped in our past; And they’re growing, they’re growing, They’re growing much too fast.
The one in between them, Defines middle child, Where his brothers are calm, She’s a little bit wild.
She’s the spark in our engine, Keeps things running along; Holds her own without flinching, And sings her own kind of song.
Our young’ns, our young’ns, Are steeped in our past; And they’re growing, they’re growing, They’re growing much too fast.
They’re growing, they’re growing, They’re growing up too fast.
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THIS TIME
The 11/7 Write Better Poetry 2020 November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt was THIS TIME.
This time I drafted:
THIS TIME G. Smith (BMI) –•–•–•– I made a mistake, Like so often before; This time you met me, At the front door.
You made your points, I completely agreed; This time I committed, To meeting your needs.
One more try, One more shot, This time this chance, Is all I’ve got.
So, This time I’ll try harder, This time I’ll get it right; This time I’ll pay attention, To the darkness and the light.
This time I’ll remember, This time I won’t forget; This time I’ll do the best I can, And live with no regret.
This time I’ll ask forgiveness, This time I’ll take a knee; This time I’ll think of you alone, With little thought for me.
It won’t be easy, Only need one question in mind; Who am I fooling, This time?
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NEXT TO ME
Today’s Writing Better Poetry PAD Chapbook Challenge was to write something “in media res” or already in the middle of the action...
Lemme know what ya think...
NEXT TO ME (c) 2020 – G. Smith (BMI) •=•=•=• On the road, on my own, Walking in the rain; With a load, all alone, Burdened by the pain; Of having to travel, This path in the cold, Face in the wind, And feeling so old.
And here you come, Right in the middle of the storm; Offering your heart so safe and warm. What came before doesn’t matter any more, What comes next we’ll have and see, But I know that I can face it, If I have you, Next to me.
I had stumbled, tumbled, With just myself to blame; I fumbled, and mumbled, Something about the shame, Of failing the ones, Who matter the most; By leaving their lives, Like a ghost, like a ghost.
Yet here you come, Right in the middle of the storm; Offering your heart so safe and warm. What came before doesn’t matter any more, What comes next we’ll have and see, But I know that I can face it, If I have you, Next to me.
Here you come, Right in the middle of the storm; Offering your heart so safe and warm. What came before doesn’t matter any more, What comes next we’ll have and see, But I know that I can face it, If I have you, Next to me.
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I SEE MYSELF
The Write Better Poetry 2020 November PAD Challenge prompt today was (Blank) MYSELF...
Now, I know what you might be thinking... but this is what was presentable...
I SEE MYSELF (c) 2020 G. Smith (BMI) ==•==•==•== I see myself, Where I’ll be in a while; I see myself, In the the things that he’d do; I see myself, And I have to wonder, Did he see himself , When he looked at me, too?
I see myself, When I was his age; I see myself, And the things that he’ll do. I see myself, And I have to wonder; Does he see himself, When he looks at me, too?
I see myself, In the way that you smile, I see myself, In the look in your eyes; I see myself, And find you’re a mirror, I see myself, Imagine my surprise.
I see myself, When I see my father, I see myself, When I see my son. I see myself, When I see you beside me; Grateful for all of the Things you have done.
I see myself, In the way that you smile, I see myself, In the look in your eyes; I see myself, And find you’re a mirror, I see myself, Imagine my surprise.
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SMALL PETTY THINGS
Day three of the 2020 November Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge over on writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry.
It being a Tuesday, the prompt was a "two-fer:" A DREAM and/or A NIGHTMARE
Here's what jumped from the pen... just don't tell my bride... = )
SMALL PETTY THINGS (c) 2020 - G. Smith (BMI) ~~~~*~~~~ She said I do, and then changed her mind; How could I have been so blind? A wish fulfilled, a dream come true; That's now a nightmare that's left me so blue.
The first few weeks were an amazing whirl; But one by one something changed in that girl. Try as I would, try as I might, Nothing was good enough, everything was fight.
If I lent hand with some of the chores, It wasn't enough, I should've done more. If I tried to answer, it was just an excuse, Seemed I always raised the white flag and called truce.
'Till death do we part, was our solemn vow; Will I make it that long? I'm not sure I know how. Small petty things, no ifs, ands, or buts; Still it all added up like the one thousand cuts.
"You can't cook, you can't iron, "You can't fold the clothes. "You can't shop, you can't find, "What's right under your nose. "Who are you texting? "Who's on the phone? "What are you watching? "I can't leave you alone."
'Til death do we part, was our solemn vow, Will I make it that long? I'm not sure I know how. Small petty things, no ifs, ands or buts; Still they all add up like the one thousand cuts.
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UNEXPECTED
Day 2 at the WritersDigest.com 2020 NOVEMBER PAD CHAPBOOK CHALLENGE and the prompt is/was...
UNEXPECTED (c) 2020 – G. Smith (BMI) ==•== Behind those dark glasses, Beneath those bright skies, I found the answer, To all of my “Why’s.” I wasn’t looking, But all I could see; Was my reason for being, Was looking at me.
That summer at Six Flags, In the lot parking cars, With the sun in the morning, Or at night with the stars; Was just paying for college, How would I know, That a quick simple smile, Would change my life so?
Behind those dark glasses, Beneath those bright skies, I found the answer, To all of my “Why’s.” I wasn’t looking, But all I could see; Was my reason for being, Was looking at me.
We worked in the rain, We worked in the heat, We worked when the blacktop, Melted our feet. We found each other, When we found we were lost; And gave all we had, Without counting the cost.
Behind those dark glasses, Beneath those bright skies, I found the answer, To all of my “Why’s.” I wasn’t looking, But all I could see; Was my reason for being, Was looking at me.
These many years later, I still recall, How it felt knowing then, That I had it all.
And, Behind those dark glasses, Beneath those bright skies, I found the answer, To all of my “Why’s.” I wasn’t looking, But all I could see; Was my reason for being, Was looking at me. My reason for being, Is still looking at me.
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PORT OF ENTRY
Well, it’s that time of year again, the November Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge over at WritersDigest.com.
Today’s prompt was write an ENTER poem...
This came together on a flight back from Salt Lake City, and includes some (edited), overheard conversation...
PORT OF ENTRY (c) 2020 G. Smith (BMI) ==+== Flying in to the valley, Mountains out my window, With their tops above my head, And my heart in my hand. Salt Lake in November, With lightly dusted snow; I can’t believe I’m by myself, As we’re about to land.
And I left an old world behind me; I didn’t know it at the time; That last night today would find me, Without you and what used to be mine; Without you and what used to be mine.
As we taxi to the concourse, And cell phones start to ping, A bag from overhead drops in your Aisle seat to my right. One ticket stayed on the table, But I made sure to claim the ring; Three years and just like that that, We’re done without a fight.
So now I’ve landed in this new world, As my foot steps through the door; It’s like a banner’s been unfurled, Welcoming me to myself once more; Welcoming me to myself once more.
Exit never knowing; Exit always wanting more; Entering a life of growing, Welcoming me to myself once more; Welcoming me to myself once more.
+++=+++
As always, thoughts, comments, suggestions are welcomed.
Stay safe 😷
g
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JESUS IN EAST HARLEM
Inspired by the book, SEEING JESUS IN EAST HARLEM, by Jose Humphrey... I hope it does it justice... =======||======= JESUS IN EAST HARLEM (c) 2020 - G. Smith (BMI) =======/======= I’ve seen Jesus in East Harlem, I’ve seen Jesus in L.A.; I’ve seen Jesus up in Buckhead, And out in Santa Fe. I’ve seen Jesus in Chicago; And down in New Orleans; I’ve seen Him in Miami, In DC and out in Queens.
I’ve seen Jesus on the highway, I’ve seen Jesus on the street; I’ve seen Him on the sidewalk, Washing people’s feet.
I’ve seen Jesus in the cul-de-sac, I’ve seen Jesus on the road; I’ve seen Him on the Golden Gate, Shouldering the load.
When I look in the mirror every morning; Who is it I see? Can it be? Can it be? Jesus, Jesus; Standing next to me.
And I’ve seen Jesus in a pick-up truck, I’ve seen Him on a plane; I’ve seen Him in the subway, Waiting for a train.
I’ve seen Jesus in the hospital, I’ve seen Him in the store; I’ve seen Him in a hotel, Opening the door.
When I look in the mirror every morning, Who is it I see? Can it be? Can it be? Jesus, Jesus; Standing next next to me.
And I’ve seen Jesus in East Harlem… ________________________________
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