PAGE TWO
So, the first page did not scare you off. I suppose you
want to learn a little more about me. In this page, I will
show you a few poems that I have written about myself. I
have found that poetry is the best way I know of to express
myself. I feel that when someone writes poetry, it is
like opening a window to his soul. This is the the way I
see things. I hope you will understand what I have written.
MASK
Who could write that his heart and soul would not be
revealed.
It would be hard to keep that part of him concealed.
Can we not write, even just one word,
Without shouting to the world for our word to he heard.
When we write are we not trying to hide.
While saying to the world, we would like to confide.
Our writing is a mask that we openly wear around.
It is not so much different than that of a face on a clown.
In essence, writing is the window to our soul.
Even so, there is much that will go untold.
When we write down on paper, our words so true,
How can we expect the world not to see through.
When I read other's words, I see laughter, excitement and
even rage.
I sometimes expect to see their tears on the page.
To convey a message that others can feel,
Takes away the mask and shows what is real.
O.W.(Smokey)Cleveland
(C)1997
THE REAL ME
When you look into my eyes, there is a lot to see.
Most will look right past and never see the real me.
For deep inside and hidden well in my soul,
There is a story about me that will go untold.
There are things in me that most will never see.
Keeping them to myself will help me to remain free.
There are feelings and emotions that run very deep.
Written words serve as the release for which I seek.
When there is a message that I want to convey,
I write words for the things I want to say.
Read my words and think them out.
Then you will start to understand what I am all about.
It was quite an accomplishment when myself, I finally
understood.
Before I could find peace in my life, I knew that I would.
O.W.(Smokey)Cleveland
(C)1997
RELEASE
There are words I write in a poem, Things about my life.
From happy moments to when my heart was pierced with a knife.
I find that there are times when my feelings flow free.
They are the times when pain is built up inside of me.
No matter how hard I try, there is one thing that I find.
Even tough I try, there things I can not keep off of my mind.
I live my life, and try as I might,
Memories come back to me when I lay my head down at night.
Words in my poems reflect the way that I feel.
I suppose they are helping me to heal.
With the endless feelings and emotions I have to release,
Poems are about the only way I will ever find any peace.
O.W.(Smokey)Cleveland
(C)1998
JUST BEING WHO YOU ARE
You pay a big price when you try to be your own person.
About all you can expect is for the situation to worsen.
To hold firm and stand for what you believe,
You had better have and ace up your sleeve.
Others will not accept your independence.
They will expect you to pay a penance.
Hold firm to your convictions as long as you are in the
right.
Others will try to impose on you, their will.
To oppose them could have them wanting to kill.
Always be able to look someone in the eye.
Make sure that you never tell them a lie.
Just as long as you wear your own hat,
No one will ever be able to pin you to the mat.
O.W.(Smokey)Cleveland
(C)1995
HANDSHAKE
It is how we use our hands from day to day,
That will show the world what we have to say.
A handshake is fine and will certainly do,
When all we want to say is, How are you?
Never back down on what a handshake should be.
It is our contract for the world to see.
In a business deal or where in a contract we should sign,
Our handshake is our word and should stand for all time.
Our name and our word is in our hands when we make a deal.
If we can not live up to those two things, our fate me may
seal.
Do not take it lightly when you extend your hand.
Upon that one thing, your whole reputation could stand.
O.W.(Smokey)Cleveland
(C)1995
THIS LAST POEM SAYS ABOUT AS MUCH ABOUT ME AS ANYTHING THAT
I HAVE WRITTEN. IT IS LIGHT HEARTED BUT, IT IS ALL TRUE.
THINGS CALLED GIRLS
I was raised with a gun and an old yellow dog.
In my pockets, you could usually find a bull frog.
We would go to the woods with never a fear.
It didn't matter to us if a booger was near.
It was a simple life, the way it should be.
Nothing ever bothered us because we were free.
Later on when high school came around,
There were things called girls that we had never found.
Do you talk to these critters or do you let them be?
I didn't want to get close because they really scared me.
My friends told me that I was supposed to take girls out.
That was the farthest thing from my mind and that was
without a doubt.
I did not know if they could hunt or fish.
These things called girls just wasn't my dish.
They scared me to death everytime I got close.
Being seen with one, scared me the most.
I finally did it, I swallowed my pride.
I started going out and in a few years, I had a bride.
Now, after all these years and even before my youth was
gone,
I am thankful that I finally left that old dog at home.
O.W.(Smokey)Cleveland
(C)1996
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