David SmithWhite

Rookie (270552 / Australia)

David SmithWhite Poems

1. Cybertime 8/28/2005
2. Life, Etc. 8/28/2005
3. Song: High Fidelity 8/29/2005
4. Song: When I Knew It Was Over 8/29/2005
5. Song: Guerillas In The Mist 10/31/2005
6. Song: The Revolutionary 9/8/2005
7. Song: Forever Bound 10/11/2005
8. Song: Going Under 10/12/2005
9. Song: Camilla 10/13/2005
10. Song: The Great Game 8/29/2005
11. Song: The Strangers 10/15/2005
12. Modern Love 10/17/2005
13. Song: Top Dog 10/30/2005
14. Song: Down Wind 9/8/2005
15. Tortured Words 5/13/2006
16. Bushtalk 5/17/2006
17. Song: The Minute Men 7/9/2006
18. Song: The Drinking Man 9/22/2006
19. String Theory 9/26/2006
20. Song: Fear Of Flying 10/9/2006
21. Song: Starstruck 9/4/2005
22. Song: The Balancing Act 9/4/2005
23. Song: Spin Out 9/5/2005
24. Song: Paranoia 9/6/2005
25. Messalina 9/6/2005
26. Song: On The Boulevard 9/6/2005
27. Song: The Old Dog's Tale 9/12/2005
28. Song: Cold Fusion 8/30/2005
29. The Warring Muse 8/28/2005
30. The Full Monty 8/28/2005
31. Song: Blue Dreaming 8/30/2005
32. 'Fergie' 8/31/2005
33. Song: Hard City 8/31/2005
34. Song: Murrumbidgee Dreaming 8/31/2005
35. Song: Riding The Dragon 9/1/2005
36. Song: Blue Poles 10/5/2005
37. The Death Masque 10/7/2005
38. Song: The Hewers Of Love 9/14/2005
39. Song: Deja Vu 9/16/2005
40. Song: Spiral Love 9/16/2005
Best Poem of David SmithWhite

Remembering

In my own remembering,
I can see so many things.
Days of bliss were much too brief.
Longer nights of pain and grief.
In my own remembering,
all my sins forgive.

Memory, can never be,
mere fact or history.
Memory, is more complex;
of mute agenda and subtext.
Memory, will flow and ebb,
according to one's mental web.
Memory, a visceral mix,
of deja vu and subtle tricks.

In my own remembering,
thwarted dreams will all take wing.
Flights of fancy, foolish lies,
float in ether's cloudless skies.
In my own imagining,
I begin ...

Read the full of Remembering

Song: The Stalker

Each and every moment of each and every day,
I became obsessed with her in every single way.
I followed her home from school,
my diary tells it all:
a crazy man, and a bloody fool.
Riding for a fall.

Each and every minute of each and every hour,
the pressed leaves of her sheltered life,

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