Dave SmithWhite

Dave SmithWhite Poems

Was it another universe?
So many years ago.
My life with you was interspersed,
By affairs you did not know.

He's a loser, that's surely what he is.
A sore loser, just tweeting that he's pissed.
He is a lame duck Donald,
A canker and a cyst;

Gods in the distance, gods from beyond.
Gods of the chosen, the meek and the fond.
The gods of our fathers that keep us in bonds;
All gods are welcome in old Babylon!

I heard the wind a-blowin'.
The wind, it raged for you.
I gave you ample warnin'.
I thought that you'd come through.

'If you're hitting what you're aiming at..?
That's real gun control.'
And mounting deaths are just mere stats,
As blood stains freedom's soul.

Who is that lady, high in the sky,
Who soars as a lilting breeze?
Is she an angel? I ask as I sigh,
The girl on the Flying Trapeze!

When my world, came crashing down,
As if hurled, from heights unbound,
And loyal friends had all left town,
You stood by me!

He goes a little crazy in the morning.
He goes a little odd by crack of dawn.
A restless spirit, waking up and yawning,
With a body-clock protesting, gaunt and worn.

Are accidents - reflections,
Of the chaotic quantum world;
Do the stars that rule the heavens,
Raise cosmic flags, unfurled?

We will all go out in sunshine,
And will come back in the dark;
With the secret state provocateurs,
The agent and the narc.

All my friends are dying.
All my friends are gone.
I am stood here crying;
How will I carry on?

I'd checked-in, a generic hilton,
In Xanadu one day,
For a light repast of stilton,
And a comely cabernet.

Can't live without love.
Can't love without life.
Can't earn without work,
When the virus is rife.

When the underdogs, and the demagogues,
By fear and greed go feral.
And the fascists rule, the abiding fools,
In a time of peril.

Are you dying, Mr. President?
Or is it all fake news?
If you're dying, and it is evident,
Will you accept it's true?

I gave up my old car,
When it gave up me.
So I'm riding shanks' pony,
To new misery.

There's a squawking, talking parrot on my shoulder.
There's a monkey on my back, you cannot see.
There are rabbits with bad habits, filing folders,
In a mind, defined like a blind beaurocracy.

When you got no-one,
To go home to,
And you dread the moving walls;
An empty space, you cannot face,

He was an ancient hipster from the USA.
He had a dodgy smile and his hands might stray.
He was the top man on his game;
But when his secret got out it would snuff out his flame.

Before the human flaw of war, is healed,
And all the wanton blood congealed,
Reflective man must never yield,
But pick his fight with sword to wield

The Best Poem Of Dave SmithWhite

Black Holes

Was it another universe?
So many years ago.
My life with you was interspersed,
By affairs you did not know.
I kept my guilty secrets,
Pressed to a heaving chest;
But now that I have been found out,
The truth must be confessed!

Was it another lifetime;
On a set built yesterday?
You wrote it out in pantomime,
A role I could not play.
Was it the season of bad dreams,
Acted out in floods of rage?
When treason was a national theme,
And blood would stain the page.

Was it a nerveless universe,
Uncurved by mystery?
When rational thought was not perverse,
But served as history.
Was it some other century?
For it seems another age,
Where reason was a cultural meme,
And rhyme, the higher stage.

Was it another universe,
On a different plane?
Where all exists in reverse,
From death to born again.
Was it that special universe,
Dim lit by avid brain?
Where even light cannot traverse,
And night and darkness reign.

Was it another epoch?
Was it another time?
My love for you was built on rock,
And not on silt and slime!
Was it some other era;
In another place?
Were we those star-crossed lovers,
Somehow lost in outer space?

Was it another universe?
Down the blackest of black holes.
Does my remorse exert a force,
Inverse to troubled souls?
Should I spurn the fleeting moment,
For a lifetime of control;
Or burn in fiery torment,
As your anger takes it's toll?

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