The text of the poem is copied below for those with visual disabilities.
Ramblins
You may as well be wonderin'
Why this rose is here.
Well, I ain't gonna tell ya
If you're guessin' very near.
So you might just as well go home
And leave me to myself.
For I am very tired and
Would like at least a shelf.
-Darcy Smittenaar
Since I only got one vote (thanks, Heather!), and that one vote was a positive one, I decided to post all of my written works here on the blog. You can see the different categories listed in the menu on the right. If you click on a category, you will be taken to a single entry, listing all of my writing from that category, with links. Click on the links in the entry, and you'll be taken to the individual entries for that story, poem, or whatever.
All of the previously-written works are back-dated to January 1, 2007, since that was before I started this blog. I did that so that my regular posts would stay at the top of the blog. Any updates and new writings will keep their original posting dates, and I will simply add links to those entries in the appropriate categories.
If you want to review, please leave a comment on the individual story. I'll appreciate any and all constructive criticism as well, even on the stuff I never plan to look at again.
Slow Burn
After years
seeking new sanctuary
from the frost,
in a familiar refuge unfurls
an ever-brightening flame.
The fire,
in a slow burn through havens
for which no forecast is read,
seeks life-giving air.
Shall evolved shelter
shun cold in earnest defense,
or in a final blaze
consume all who enter in?
After years
seeking new sanctuary
from the frost,
in a familiar refuge unfurls
an ever-brightening flame.
In the wake of anger’s fire,
Confusion’s embers die.
Winter’s clarity reigns
over charred framing
and blackened foundation.
In the silent frost,
shall never anon
Friendship’s shelter
tender comforting sanctuary?
"It is fun to debate."
I say, only half-way
Lying about my reasons
For speaking to you.
Our conversations do not abate
When, after half a day
Of theories, rebuttals, and "virtual liaisons,"
We have passed the time through.
Your conversing skills, those I cannot rate,
For I would be biased in a way.
And of all the persons,
Day by day, that I speak to,
You are the exception. Yes, it is true.
Not so much do I speak to others,
Not by voice, nor by pen.
Why do we speak so often?
Because I love you.
I read your words,
Feel the pain of which you write.
You say that life hurts,
But you can't change it.
You aren't willing to fight.
I try to help;
I don't know what to do.
And yet, there are times,
I know that I've gotten through.
Other times, I wrack my brains
To find something that will make you
Leave the sorrow behind;
Something to remind you how to laugh.
All in vain.
You become weary,
Time and again.
I do not know how
To help you anymore.
How much I wish I knew,
You can never surmise.
I care for you:
More with everything I realize about you.
I love you:
More than words can say.
I wish there were a way
For me to know how
To help you through every sorrow,
And through all the pain.
But every time is different.
Nothing works the same.
If I were told that
There was one single way to help you,
Every time helping lessen the pain.
I would be the first to try.
But now,
Helpful or not,
All I can do is cry.
Have we talked, hours on end?
After your midnight, were you abed?
Religion we have talked about...
Reeling debates, we have spoken a few...
Intriguing conversations, both old, and new.
We have talked of music, haven't we?
A song's lyrics you have sent to me.
How is it that we talk so much
Like old friends, although very new?
Reason and affection meet as one.
Old ideas molded with new
Opinions to form a friendship so far away, yet close, and fast becoming more.
Still, without meeting, will it endure?
I'm happy for you, I really am. It's a blessing that you've found Someone who, to you, is easier to be around. You deserve someone to keep you warm, Someone who will keep you from doing harm To yourself, or those who you hate the most. Oh dear. You're asking for advice, For counsel on what to do, What to say to her. Do I tell you to leave her, And then keep you for myself In a triumphant, if pitiful, fit of jealousy? Or do I tell you what I, In similar circumstances, Would do? Do I tell you what I would do if I felt I was using Someone I cared about and loved, As you feel you are doing to her? Should I give you the best advice I am able, The window into a woman's heart (Not only hers, not just any woman's, But my own desires as well), And then leave the decision to you, No matter how badly that decision is capable Of tearing me inside-out? Or do I tell you to leave her, And then swoop in? That would be against my nature, My befriended and beloved Finn. But, If I were to be the jealous one, I would win; Although, not by much. For, not only would I betray my best friend in the world, But also someone he cared for, And who cares for him as much as I. With all of your life's troubles, You deserve someone Who cares for you as well as, Or better than I ever can, So far away, I being an American.
Who is as a handsome knight,
Curing damsels of their fright?
Recieving strength from the Lord
No greater man can love afford.
Cunning as Eros in his skill
To weild the bow of passion's will?
Who has stricken me,
Not willing, nor wanting to flee,
As Psyche,
Daughter-in-law to Aphrodite?
She, the love of Eros for all time.
O hearken, listen to my rhyme.
Matthew, brave and true as the sun,
You are my courage, my light, the only one!
Forbidden love,
That's what I've found.
My longings for your touch abound.
I want you,
You know it's true,
Through thick, and thin, and old, and new.
My heart soars when you walk by.
Oh! I feel as if I could fly!
What is better than this feeling
Of my love for you?
Growing,
Knowing that you love me too.
You sit.
I sit.
So close
Pure bliss
We kiss.
We walk.
We talk.
Caress
Smile
Wait a little while.
In our world,
No life is a mess.
Whisper.
Sweet nothing
Oh, no thing
Can keep us apart for long.
Sweet song
Sit ‘til dawn
Watch and wait
Long-strided gait
Hand in hand
Our own dream land
Wish and hope
Don't be a dope!
I love you, you know.
And as we know,
Love can grow.
Far away,
I look,
I stay,
I see a book,
The book
Of my life.
And to one chapter
I turn.
I see you,
Clear as day,
Because I can read
What the words say.
They say,
"I love you," and
So now I sit,
Living,
Day by day,
Waiting,
For the day
When you come my way.
I feel as though I've lost something.
What, I think you might just know.
You see, these poems have a way
Of letting answers show.
The loss I speak of is nothing major.
It's nothing that puts one in danger.
I've not lost my virginity,
Nor do I wish for pity,
Only something more.
It all began one dreary night in December.
Our love was more than just the common ember.
It was such a lovely night,
That lovely, dark December.
And then, I blew it.
I knew it was wrong: Letting you touch me there.
It tickled, you know, and I couldn't dare
To say out loud the word your parents would hear.
But then I didn't like it.
I tried to tell you so-
I pulled away your hand, was about to whisper "no,"
When you put it back again,
You thought it was a game.
I tried to stop you again and again.
But you wouldn't give up, so I made a mistake:
I did.
I just sat there and bore the shame.
Oh, how I wished to stop that game.
For it made me feel worthless,
All I deserved was shame.
Now you've heard the story,
But you knew it before.
All humans need love,
But we also need more.
I'm hoping this poem will settle the score.
In your eyes, I see no diminished love for me,
But that's not what I want.
Yes, all humans want love, including me.
But that's not all.
There is something that in your eyes I cannot detect.
It is respect.
And it is my fault.
-January 31, 2000
4:10 a.m.
Far accross the bounds of time
I wandered, looking for love,
And I found you, found love devine.
And now you are mine.
I am yours.
As a dove I come, in peace
From heaven above.
Heaven's pure love I seek,
My will,
It is quite weak.
I try as such to be meek,
But of control,
I have not much, I cannot speak.
I want you with a passion,
A ravenous desire,
It eats the inside of me
With insatiable fire.
I need you, and the more I need, the less I heed
The world's bitter taunt.
No matter what they say,
No matter what you do,
I want to be with you.
I need to be near you.
You wrote me a poem,
Oh so sweet.
Then added two
To make it three.
You are much better than I
At everything I try.
That is why
I must find
A perfect kind
Of poem for you.
Through and through,
You guide me by words,
Through strange, and sometimes known worlds
I will stick
To you through thin and thick.
And if you were to die,
I would cry.
I do not worry, for
That is many years to wait,
And more.
An eternity,
'Til Saint Peter will find you at the gate.
I love you.
Through thick, thin, old, and new.
When will I ever
Learn?
We'd start as friends,
We'd said.
What we'd done?
That was not so . . .
Quaint.
Kisses confused,
Caresses beguiled.
Down was backward,
And sideways?
Loop-de-loop.
Fun,
You called it.
I longed for
Three words
Promising even
A fraction
Of Forever.
I yearned for
Now and Always.
With the pull
Of a thousand suns,
It bade me taste
Of eternity,
With anyone who would
Co-partake.
But in love
With Love and Lust
Is not in love
With You.
Just Lust.
(And Friendship,
Begging
to have a turn.)
More fun
-Innocently- had.
Meals, games, entertainment.
Priceless time
Spent cultivating
A trust so perfect
The words
"We should date"
Now seem profane,
Threatening the bliss
Of Comrades.
Formerly,
I'd wished
Just that:
Acknowledgment,
One way or
Another.
Friends?
Couple?
I couldn't tell
And hoped you knew.
Now,
I know that
Passion
Is best left
To those in love-
With each other.
You are not
my Lover,
And may not
Ever be,
But, Should I die
Tomorrow
-Unlikely though it seems-
I'd die smiling,
Remembering
The times spent
Between
My best friend
And Me.
-Puff-
And the dough's on the counter.
Punch, push, pull
The mixture squishes
Through flowery hands.
-Slink-
And the pan's in the oven.
Sniff, smell, snuffle
An intoxicating
Treat eagerly awaited.
-Stare-
As the baking cools.
See, sigh, salivate
Can't wait to
Taste the baker's spoils.
-Taste-
All that was awaited.
Teeth, tongue, tonsils
Happy children
Enjoy the scrumptious treat.
January 20, 2003
10:16pm
I left it
In Math.
I really wish I hadn't.
Precise, attractive,
The perfect one for me.
I wish to go
Get it.
Alas,
School closed tonight.
I miss sharp lines,
Electric blue composition.
Oh,
How I crave
My favorite pen.
He entered,
A jungle cat
stalking its prey.
Couples dancing on
hard wood stopped,
shocked into quiet
as deafening as a
concert hall becomes
before the roaring applause.
But he noticed none.
Instead, as though
replaced by an eagle's,
his eyes honed in
On her.
