David SmithWhite

Rookie (270552 / Australia)

David SmithWhite Poems

121. Song: Tin Pan 8/29/2005
122. Song: When I Knew It Was Over 8/29/2005
123. String Theory 9/26/2006
124. The Ballad Of Mathew Mcfattie 1/9/2006
125. The Company Of Shill 10/16/2005
126. The Death Masque 10/7/2005
127. The Electron's Song 12/16/2005
128. The End(S) Of Satire 10/10/2005
129. The Full Monty 8/28/2005
130. The Hanged Man 7/27/2009
131. The History Of Now 10/9/2005
132. The Holocaust Song (August 6th, '45.) 10/24/2005
133. The Hunchback's Song 9/24/2005
134. The Neutron's Song 12/16/2005
135. The Producer's Spiel 9/3/2005
136. The Prophet 9/3/2005
137. The Proton's Song 12/16/2005
138. The Trials Of William Bligh 10/8/2005
139. The Warring Muse 8/28/2005
140. This Island, Australia 10/13/2005
141. Tortured Words 5/13/2006
142. Twilights 9/17/2005
143. 'Twinkle, Twinkle... 9/2/2005
144. Violent Night (1) 12/9/2005
145. Violent Night (2) 12/11/2005

Comments about David SmithWhite

  • Dallas Frazer (3/25/2014 12:41:00 PM)

    Hi David, Just wondering if you have any objections if I use your poem 'Simpson and His Donkey' as part of an ANZAC service. It is intended for some children to read as part of a service in Canada and I will of course offer you credit as the author. Please let me know if this is OK? frazer.dallas@gmail.com

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  • Pens Pen (3/6/2012 12:52:00 PM)

    DAVID...want to use one of your poems in a song to publish..need your response...Bob at...java2468@gmail.com

  • Guest Guesterson (11/25/2011 12:53:00 AM)

    Is the music to the song 'The Girl On The Flying Trapeze'?

  • Glen Shorts (4/30/2006 3:37:00 PM)

    Jennifer Ouellette 'Black Bodies and Quantum Cats' should have read this first.

    Good Show..

    Alan Bender

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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