Number 1. Approximately September 1998.

Blue skies, grey clouds, the hope that rests in chaos
Provides a sense of hopefulness to counter my feelings of loss.
Two burdens of love, three I bear in my tortured soul
And can it be that I will see to make them into a whole?
Sticky tape, pins, or glue could fix it for a while,
that I could move to think on you and masquerade a smile
Until I fall apart again, the cloth must be rewove
To make me into one and then to fall into your love.
I'm gathering up the fragments of my twisted, shattered heart
to weave myself a garment new, each memory a part.
So clothed in wholeness once again, I run to you with hope
that I will not deny once more the love we could evoke.
And the three that stand before me now, I look upon in joy -
My man I dream of, there! my God, and there, my little boy.
These three as one I'll love as three, for all they've done and made in me.

Happy Bouncy Poem - for Edith
well, the rhyme scheme is anyway...

Sometimes when I'm feeling down
I can't recall the thing which I
first felt to make me feel so blue.
I'm feeling down and don't know why.

Maybe it's that I need a friend?
Maybe another point of view?
Maybe I want it all to end?
Maybe I want to start anew?

I know I have amazing friends
Who love to spend their time with me,
Who always try to show me sense
and urge me to try and just be me.

And looking on the brighter side
is a thing I've always said
But it makes me want to run and hide
As even the bright side's dead.

So maybe I should take a knife,
Some poison or a rope,
And put an end to this sad life?
But I can't let go of hope.

Maybe tomorrow I'll awake
To find a brand new sunny day
And skate upon the frozen lake
And throw my cares so far away.

So still I have some days and nights
Of pain and misery.
Remind me then to find a light
And craft a brand new side of me.

For though I cannot lose the pain
I still can claim the victory
And see the rainbows through the rain
And be content with all I see.


Number 3.

What's the time? When's the hour?
When will You come back with power?
How long will we all have to wait?
How much time to seal our fate?
Will we ever make it through until the day when we see you?
When we gaze upon your light, will we hide our eyes from sight?
Will our hearts burn in shame when we hear you speak our name?
Or will we keep our heads bowed down, as we kneel to offer you our crown?

Number 4
Just a short one, but that's not bad. If it says everything I want it to.

Always open, for everyone, there is nothing hidden in the cross.
Jesus left it here for us that we might seek to heal our loss.
He's smiling down at you this minute, to accept his gift, and revel in it.


A Hopeful Poem
When I wrote this it was all so true to me. It is frightening what depression can do to your mind.

When I wander the world I see life, I see death.
The fading of laughter in each gasping breath.
To tenaciously cling to what only brings pain,
To endlessly struggle with nothing to gain.
The people smile, there's laughter and mirth
Yet they miss the truth - only misery gives birth.
It's offspring the reality they choose to ignore
That nothing is good, the word is no more.
And as I see them, lost in deception
I know the truth, the only direction.
We cannot go up, because we are dead
And laughter the delusion in our head.
And I look at them all, drowning in lies
And desperately wish to uncover their eyes.
To make them see what they can't see
The reality they are too shallow to breathe.
When we give up our so-called life
To walk forever in a forever night
Then the freedom of the truth is shown
As we are left to walk alone.
The ecstasy of silence, the velvet cold
Draws you in, this curse of old
Because you know you will not last long
And no one will look for you when you are gone.

The next one

Can you tell? Do you know?
The urges burn inside me
Whene'er I see the future here, and what I have become.
A thing of misery so deep, a shattered purity
A fearsome thing of violence, and I must fight or run.
Have you ever looked inside, into your deepest depth?
To try and find the smallest speck of that they call respect.
And when you find that in the darkness there lies one thing alone
You sit and weep and scream and hate the chimera of your soul.
And in the mirror's searching eyes is found the perfect truth:
That if this monster must be slain, your soul is ransomed dross.
The memory of innocence that still is burning now
Will I ever see it again? No path, no light, no how.
A stay of execution though that still my sickened heart.
I do not know from whence it comes, I must remain in dark.
So tell me can you understand the pain that grips me tight?
That soon must spread to poison more and draw them into night.
Can I love? Can I live? The two are so entwined.
Just tell me, do you know at all, the dragons of my mind?


Chicago Bus Station. Approximately June 1999

Empty noises, flickering heat
Everything waits, incomplete.
A century of sounds looking for names
Hysterics of people, all playing their games.
A mindless void, an empty shell
Around where I sit in this deepening well
Of human lives which whirl around,
Creating the vacuum and making the sound.
An endless wait for an unknown end.
A joy, a terror or maybe a friend.
Who can tell? We must move on
Until everything is known or all is gone.

Ok that's it now. Thanks for reading. All the above copyright to me - Gayle Smith, 2000.
What other people have written that I wanted to put up here for others to read.
Get out of here and thank God you're not all like me! 1