Robert James Smith
Biography of Robert James Smith
Teacher, writer, business owner and musician originally from New York, now living in California and Denmark. Website with poetry and other works is:
- White Knight -new-
Robert James Smith Poems
I Stole This Poem
I stole this poem, yes I did It isn't mine to publish But every word I write myself On paper reads like rubbish.
O widow! What is it you mourn? Is it the man? Or labor borne? The loss of love? Or yea the past? Perhaps that beauty cannot last?
This Old Man
This old man named Balco He lived down the stair With old fashioned trousers And thinning white hair
silent stoic strong as can be why would he need a friend like me?
THE DREAM When I lay me down to sleep I see her face appear and then
The Secret Room
there's a place in my heart only you know where no one else will ever go. that no one else could ever find. an attic deep within my mind
Condensed to a drop just a thought or idea Connecting and sliding and
Who Are You?
who are you without a name without a face without a voice
The World War
raging roaring rolling waves white knuckles rise above the shelf crash upon the palisades the ocean fights the land herself
A tree in my garden I've loved all my life I sun it by day and I water at night
Can we still talk of love after so many years? Can we still call it love after so many tears?
Getting a grip on my life is a chore it slips through my fingers it falls to the floor All that I hold that is dearest to me
Yonder on the farther chair upon the porch nearby the stair a winged beauty feathers fair was looking at me sitting there
The World War
raging roaring rolling waves
white knuckles rise above the shelf
crash upon the palisades
the ocean fights the land herself
blow by blow the hammers smash
a face of stone to grains of sand
persistence and the gift of time
the ocean shall defeat the land