Word Smithery Poem by Mike Smith

Word Smithery

I'm a word smith. Mike to my friends. Michael usually to my elders.
I write in order to share. With who? Well that answer still escapes me, but I do know that it's meant for an audience. One greater than simply myself. Even in all my forms.... These words deserve a home in the minds of friends, and family, and enemies, and strangers alike
To whom it may concern. I, Mike smith, fiddle with vernacular until it suits me. I try, my darnedest even, to cramp meaning into the lines so that the reader must trace back the steps and decide just exactly how I got to any given point.
Free flow. Take the words as they come and jot them down. Or thumb them rather. Because jotting seems to take too long nowadays.
Every thing is a story to me at this point. All of it relevant. All of it pertinent. Purposeful. By design.
I am a recorder of thoughts. A catalyst of musings. A seer of unseen and a hearer of unheard. I am attention in its flesh. I am blind and deaf.
I'm an enigma if ever existed such a thing. A zebra. Striped to confuse the predators. Fast to avoid them. And remaining in the herd for anonymity.
I am simple... Well that's a lie. I'm complicated to the core. But my desires... My wants, needs, requirements, dreams, and means to the ends are similar to all others. We are all one in the same. Simple organisms packed into complex structures trying to make what little sense of the world we may find apparent to us at any given time.
We want more than we need. We need more than we require. We dream for all of the above. The means to the ends makes up the biggest difference... At least in my opinion. We are creatures. We seek rewards and try to avoid punishment. We do the best we can given our circumstances. We ebb and flow. We adapt and evolve. If we are smart, we don't forgot the lessons from the past.
History tends to repeat. If we forget the past we start all over again. When that happens, our time, our resources, our energy, our calories, our clarity, our function.... They are all lost to the moment. Receded into the darkness once more until one little iota of light decides to unmask our history. And then we are no longer blind and deaf. Then we are educated.
Then we are human. A creature, yes. But one unlike the others.
One with means to ends unimaginable by the other species. Then we have bestowed our potential. Risen into it. Embraced it. And made it our will to use it to our advantage. Incredible creatures. God-like... But still fallible. Still weak in the most animalistic sense.. Easily swayed and hard to persuade. We are hairless chimps with longer sentences.
We are nothing
We are all there ever was
Word smith

Not much luck finding readers for the prose I've been posting recently... Anyway, I'll keep putting it out there and hope that it finds a curious mind at some point
Kim Barney 13 July 2017

You are a man of mystery, and yet easily understandable. You are an enigma, yet transparent as glass. You pretend to be rough, but you are as smooth as James Bond. I like your seemingly rambling, yet organized thoughts.

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Mike Smith 26 May 2019

Firstly, sorry for taking the better part of two years to read and respond to your comment. Please know that I do greatly appreciate it. You basically hit the nail on the head with your conclusions. I don’t truly know if I enjoy constantly and unknowingly being a walking contradiction of myself. It’s a balancing act I perform against my own will. But, that said, it brings me perspective and fills me with creativity from time to time... Thank you for reading, and sharing your thoughts

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Denis Mair 13 July 2017

This gives a real picture of our predicament and your role. I like the evolutionary vistas. I like what you say about the inner resources that are lost to the moment until an iota of light unmasks our history. This makes me think that our inner history is a kind of inscription, like a tree structure, and we must learn to read it and sum up its lessons. // You are able to suggest in-depth avenues of thought with concrete examples. A ZEBRA. STRIPED TO CONFUSE THE PREDATORS. FAST TO AVOID THEM. AND REMAINING IN THE HERD FOR ANONYMITY. This gives grist for thought about fight or flight responses in human social territory. I am interested in what you are doing and I hope to find out more. Today I ran into another biologically informed poet on PoemHunter (MS. NIVEDITA BAGCHI SPC. UK.) . Wow, that makes two in one day. I used to be a biology major, but in some respects I cannot touch either of you. So poets need each other for constant enrichment. Keep it up, and keep up your forays into knowledge that gives you deeper grounding.

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