David SmithWhite

Rookie (270552 / Australia)

David SmithWhite Poems

81. Song: The Queen Of Sheba 12/19/2006
82. Song: The Revolutionary 9/8/2005
83. Song: The Runaway Bride 11/24/2005
84. Song: The Strangers 10/15/2005
85. Song: A Master Of The Blues 8/29/2005
86. Song: A Piece Of String 3/12/2008
87. Song: A Supporter Of The Arts 3/4/2008
88. Song: An Average Cyber Hero 2/27/2009
89. Song: Cold Fusion 8/30/2005
90. Song: Connecting The Dots 10/26/2008
91. Song: Decline And Fall 3/14/2009
92. Song: Deja Vu 9/16/2005
93. Song: Disintegration 3/28/2008
94. Song: Fly Away 9/4/2006
95. Song: High Fidelity 8/29/2005
96. Song: Love's Dark Abyss 8/16/2008
97. Song: Mata Hari 8/29/2005
98. Song: Maybe Love 3/24/2008
99. Song: Media 5/15/2009
100. Song: Not Heinrich Himmler 3/3/2008
101. Song: Number Five 12/8/2005
102. Song: Perspectives 7/23/2009
103. Song: Pharonic Love 4/5/2006
104. Song: Sailing The Islands 9/3/2005
105. Song: Sheba And Solomon 1/7/2007
106. Song: Shelling Gaza 7/1/2008
107. Song: Spell Out The Blues 8/2/2009
108. Song: Suicide City 7/11/2008
109. Song: The Comic Life 9/3/2005
110. Song: The Gambler 8/30/2005
111. Song: The Gardens Of Love 11/2/2005
112. Song: The Great Game 8/29/2005
113. Song: The Invisible Man 12/18/2008
114. Song: The Minute Men 7/9/2006
115. Song: The Old Dog's Tale 9/12/2005
116. Song: The Phantom In Your Opera 11/24/2008
117. Song: The Road To Nowhere 9/3/2005
118. Song: The Running Dogs 10/5/2005
119. Song: The Stalker 8/29/2005
120. Song: The Underdogs 9/9/2005
Best Poem of David SmithWhite


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: High Fidelity

When there's no-one left to care. I'll be there.
Or they say you've got no prayer. I'll be there.

When a moment freely shared, is as precious and as rare,
as the diamonds in your eyes, and the highlights in your hair.
And time itself's impaired, with seconds running scared,
with minutes gone into hiding like hibernating bears.
And none of us are spared, to lull the crawling dread;
with emotions not easily aired, but locked inside the head.

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