Werner Schmidt

Freshman - 899 Points [Werner Schmidt] (3 May,1975)

Werner Schmidt Poems

1. The End Of Days... 2/10/2019
2. Stuck On You 3/24/2019
3. Ignition Sequence Start 4/6/2019
4. Captain's* Prologue 4/7/2019
5. Mystic Berry 2016 4/7/2019
6. Sea Spot Run 4/7/2019
7. An Ode To A Maur* & A Dor 4/7/2019
8. Two Stories & A Song For Us And Them 4/8/2019
9. One Day When I'm Dead 4/8/2019
10. The Story Of Stories 4/8/2019
11. We Are Not Like Them #2 4/9/2019
12. Fishing For Soul 4/10/2019
13. Dogs Playing Cards 4/11/2019
14. Sustainable Sex 4/13/2019
15. Primari 4/13/2019
16. South Africans Love Them 4/13/2019
17. Laniakea Blues 4/13/2019
18. It's About Time 4/13/2019
19. If This Life 4/13/2019
20. Universal Sandbox 4/13/2019
21. Perhaps I Am A Flask Of Flesh 4/13/2019
22. To All The Girls 4/13/2019
23. Late Morning Siesta 4/13/2019
24. Momentary 4/24/2019
25. An Ode To Frowning Aka May I Have This Dance, My Dear? 4/25/2019
26. Domestication 4/26/2019
27. Timid Thursday 4/27/2019
28. Few Will Journey... 4/27/2019
29. A Bird Man Moves (Based On A True Story) 4/27/2019
30. A Man For The Moment 4/28/2019
31. Dark Clarity 4/28/2019
32. Treading On The Tail Of A Tiger 5/1/2019
33. A Burst Of Faith 5/1/2019
34. Who Is The Writer 5/4/2019
35. I Am 5/4/2019
36. I Am A South African 5/5/2019
37. Fear Is A Door 5/5/2019
38. Living Kinda Doggedly (Aka Ode To Pavlov's Church Bell) -new- 6/28/2020
39. Sort Of Lamenting My Desert 4/29/2019
40. A Red Heart Rises 4/30/2019

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Best Poem of Werner Schmidt

Good Day, Werner, Herewith Your Account For Your Monthly Breathing

PAY NOW flashes on my mobile screen.

Yes, friends, only a matter of time.
What else is left to be commoditised?

Rocks that roll and heavy metal, plus
liquid gold that explodes inside engines
have all but been sucked out of Mother's belly.
Markets and governments - partners -
are left only with trash and air, in a way.
Gold rush, diamond rush, oil rush.
Garbage rush, with no time to waste.

How many wild animals still run free, truly free?
Not 'free' inside a reserve with shocking sides
and ample infrastructure.
In other words, when
I see...

Read the full of Good Day, Werner, Herewith Your Account For Your Monthly Breathing

Stuck On You

Steam rises from my cupped hands.
Sickle Moon dances on my black rooibos tea.
Dirty, orange City Night Sky.
Trying not to blink. What am I looking at?

On a slow, hot summer afternoon
we watched our little prince flash
from his favourite branch and
smack down onto concrete.