contents & site map	CONTENTS OF THIS PAGE Tormented Mind of an Abused Child The Skeptic Remembered (Vernon) Who Am I Two Line Peace Poem Afrikaans (Peace Poem) Different yet the Same Those I Leave Behind No sunshine Faces (View Diagram) Going A Crossroad in Time The Genesis Question Happy Mother’s Day   All poetry on this site is Copyright Craig D. Smith, 2001; (unless otherwise stated).  You may distribute.
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Tormented Mind of an Abused Child

This poem was written on New Year's Eve, 2000

I had given a thought for those who were in pain, as a result of sombody else's New Year celebration.  Then I wrote this.

She thought she didn't know his name
But didn't want to play the game
Her body numb, she couldn't feel
From head to arm, from leg to heel.

They ask her but she doesn't talk
She sits because she cannot walk
Her mind remembers all the pain
And body becomes numb again.

How can she tell them what he's done
He asked her gently: Tell no one
E'en though what he did was bad
All she thinks: HE is my dad.

The Skeptic

 by Craig D Smith; 31 March, 2000

Left alone with pain and tears

A skeptic re-living old fears

Outside no moon because of cloud

Inside old sad songs playing loud.

Remembered

      Cousin Vernon (V.G. Smith) died in April 2000  

Supported in our time of grief

Instilling a renewed belief.

Remembering our loved one

Wondering “Is it really done”.

Yet wounds heal with time

Replaced by peace sublime.

The memories don’t diminish

Instead a noble peace replenish.

           Written for those who shared our grief and loss

Who Am I

Craig D Smith - September 6, 2000

Where did I come from, I ask myself. 

My mother’s womb, yes -

Got some of my parents’ traits. 

Yet, I am unique, I guess. 

Maybe the old man Darwin had a point, 

But sorry, no traits from King Kong.

And yet, the perfect order of the universe;

Is scary, since it survived so long.

No! Chaos, complexity rule, you say?

Well, in the human mind, maybe.

Because we are unique you see;

Material slaves, but our will is free.

I am who I am by deliberate design;

Plus generations of mixed DNA.

The designer CREATED according to plan,

Not chance as some would say.

Having said all this, Yet I must confess;

Centuries of debates give no more no less;

We must bold and believe that there is none;

Except who Was and Is and Still Is to come.

Two Line Peace Poem

– C.D. Smith for International Peace Poem Project (August 2000)  

To GIVE: a smile, a hug, a kind word, a compliment, a piece of bread, an outstretched hand, an embrace of love, TO GIVE PEACE!

To RECEIVE: from anxiety, from hatred, from envy, from lust, from sadness, from grief, from greed, from indifference, TO RECEIVE RELEASE!

Afrikaans: Peace Poem

Om te GEE:  n Glimlag,  n drukkie,  n vriendelike aanhaling,  n kompliment,  n stukkie brood,  n hand wat uitreik,  n sak vol liefde,  OM VREDE TE GEE.

Om te ONTVANG:  van begeerte,  van wrok,  van afguns,  van wellus,  van droewigheid,  van grief,  van gulsigheid,  van onverskilligheid,  OM VRYHEID TE ONTVANG. 

(Afrikaans: courtesy of E.Liebenberg)

Different yet the Same

Craig D Smith - February 22, 2001

Light and darkness – a minute apart

Turn off the lights, and then it is dark.

Night and day – both have their worth

Some sleep by day, at night they work.

Great and small – they have their place

For the great, they excel when they show grace.

The small follow the great, doing what they must

Their works adding value, not just going to dust.

The strong and weak – must sit together

They both cannot predict the weather.

The future for both is simply unknown

They’re equals much later when they’ve older grown.

Rain and sunshine – we can’t do without

That’s what life is all about.

When there’s drought, no rain makes one sad

At vacation time, rain makes one sad.

We are so different – and yet the same

We all are playing life’s survival game.

And yet, this working and striving isn’t pointless

When we hope in the promise of eternal rest.

Those I Leave Behind

In memory of my father, who left behind the important things.

By Craig D Smith, March 13, 2001 

When I must go, I think of those who must stay;

I wonder if they’ll need me, when I’m far away.

When I must go, I ponder what to take;

My calendar to remind me of my return to make.

When I must go, I think what must remain;

The hope we have to meet someday, again.

When I must go, I wonder what they’ll think;

He left behind his love and memories distinct.

When I must go, I ask the question why;

My heart breaks so suddenly and I begin to cry.

When I must go, and know I can’t return;

Then I must leave behind, what e’er is need to learn.

Author’s note: Now I know exactly what I should be focusing on.

No sunshine

By Craig D Smith, May 2001

The leaves were blowing in the wind

A bird tried to take off, but too late

It lifted slightly, but then was down.

The trees were bending low, so low

Like acrobats at the Olympic games

Elegant they rose from touching ground.

The rain was coming hard and fast

Like bullets striking their targets

And blowing shrapnel all around.

Animals huddled close protecting from the cold

But just above the clouded sky

The sun shone, full and round

Faces

Strange places

Different faces

A story to be told

Whether young or old

Sunken eyed, and worn out

Like death lurking about

Exciting, bright and gleaming

Like the midday sun, beaming

Embittered and hardened

Like one never been pardoned

Lonely, morose, weak and scared

Like a clouded moon, when night is dead

Contemplative, thoughtful, praying

Like a tree in the wind not swaying

Much to see in strange places

But more in the different faces

What story does yours tell

Are you bleak or well.

by Craig D Smith, Friday, March 16, 2001

picture by Keegan Harington - created in MS Paint, especialy for this poem

Going

By Craig D Smith, May 2001

Going along the road

Oblivious to obstacles

Hearing children laughing

Seeing them eating Popsicles

Going along the long road

Not knowing where it ends

Hearing people working the fields

Turning when the road bends

Going along the long steep road

Climbing hard and fast to reach the top

Hearing birds singing from the trees

Wondering, when will the climbing stop

Going along the long steep winding road

Can’t see in the distance, the rain is hard

Hearing how fast the water rushes past

Wishes this journey, you could discard

Going through life not knowing why

Going through trials and temptations

Going where you’ve never been

Going for the big vibrations.

A Crossroad in Time

                                    Craig D Smith – 24 June 2001

A Picture of The Lives So Common In Our Age

Lifting the obstacle with all my might,

I sigh with relief to know it’s gone.

And then I move a step forward

To find I’m faced with another one.

Nine years old I wish I were,

Things aren’t getting any better here.

Help me move myself along,

Help me sing a happy song.

The past has come, the present now.

I sometimes cannot see the way

That I am walking. It’s almost dark -

Give me a lamp and oil I pray.

I see the children happy play

Tomorrow is just another day.

For adults tomorrow brings new fear

Nine years old I wish I were.

What to do, Oh! Where to go.

At the crossroad, which way to turn.

My Lord can help! This I know.

So, Why do I suffer, when will I learn.  

The Genesis Question

Night and Day
Who's to say
When dark, it's night
It's day, when light.
2 Billion or Six
We are in a mix.
Was it counted by the setting sun
Where our Creator is, there has been not one.

Craig D Smith, Mar 2001

Happy Mother’s Day

 My mother, Maureen, lost her life partner after 41 years, in 1999.  It surely would take more than 1 year to remove the pain and memories after losing a loved one of 41 years.  I wrote this poem for Mother's Day 2000.

Mother, you feel that you walk alone

When nobody’s home, no ringing phone.

A year of memory and tears

But also of removed fears.

It was a year of crying and pain

But also new faith and spiritual gain.

A year of worry and concern

But also a year for those who learn

Tomorrow the sun will shine again

Tomorrow maybe a little pain.

But always sons and daughters are there

Together with you love and peace to share.

Craig Smith (May 2000)