The fortune cookie
sits untouched inside the bag
scared of the future
© Alfred W. Smith Jr
Category: Poetry
Reincarnation…
We are
reincarnated
and
nobody cares
again
© Alfred W. Smith Jr
Still
the sun, descending
glimmers
dully
on the pond
the animals
have long since
gone
and the
stillness
surrounds,
pervades,
prevails
all around
and
I
a solitary man
in the midst
of
all this
stillness
sit
like a
timeless
forgotten
god…
still
© Alfred W. Smith Jr
A Handful of Stars
If you could
hold a handful
of
stars
what would you do with them?
puff them away
like
dandelions fluff
and make
random wishes?
toss & scatter them
like
silver coins
into the
sea?
make clusters of them
spin
like
pinwheels?
or let them
slowly slip
through your
fingers
spilling them
back into
the sky?
If you could
hold a handful
of
stars
what would you do with them?
© Alfred W. Smith Jr
Lights in the Windows of the Soul
Candles
wink playfully
flirting
with my retina
hiding
what I would
see
The Sun
is a saucier creature
who will
blind you
if you
stare her down
Give me the
steady
patient
starlight.
© Alfred W. Smith Jr
2015
Ice on the Rocks (Day of the Dark Full Moon/ 80’s poetry)
Ice
slithers
over the rock
it hangs down in
feral-toothed
whiteness
cold fangs
in
moonlight
the rocks
wait
© Alfred W. Smith Jr.
Winter Poem (Day of the Dark Full Moon: 80’s poetry)
his breath hangs
white and smoky
on the
winter wind
carrying his life
before him
lifting his prayers to
Heaven
speaking his words
to some great, nameless
thing
dissipating
words ignored
prayers unanswered
life gone
he
is the
nameless
thing
© Alfred W. Smith Jr.
Winter Haiku 1
The sun sets early
in wintertime anxious to
flee from the cold night
© Alfred W. Smith Jr.
In the Simple Things
It’s in the simple things:
intimate, small gestures that say you care
a palpable connection felt when eyes meet
knowing the thoughts, finishing the sentences
a connection of hands, the intertwine of fingers
the ebb and flow of bodies
giving and receiving
a binding of hearts and souls
a freeing of spirits
and we understand
the ancient lore of oneness
singing in rounds of alternate harmonies
walking together
down the pleasant path
to
Home.
© Alfred W. Smith Jr.
Attic (my 80’s poetry)
Stranj
to see an attic
that keeps
no memories
Dust and heat
spirit
thru the
closed window
It is here I take
leave of the world
for awhile
to think
and sleep
Cobwebs float
lazily,
majic carpets
in
slow motion
As I look around it now,
perhaps the
memories
are yet to be made
that will fill this
serene emptiness
Perhaps
I
shall be a
vision
it has known, a
memory
it shall keep
before it is
cluttered
with
the future
of
the past
© Alfred W. Smith Jr.
June 23rd, 1983
Attic / Assorted Absurdities (a poetry collection)
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Beyond Panic 