Fresh Perspectives

Freedom often comes in exchange for sorrow.

But all I believe in tells me tomorrow will be amazing.

So I am keeping my head up and my teeth exposed.

Golden sunbeams wash the earth of its cank.

Moonlit city streets amble in polyphonic blue note fervor.

I used to find I didn’t deserve more than tears…

Tears in my pillow case. Tears falling like water from a faucet.

Yet here I am alive and well, happy and swell.

Tell me is any tragedy that has befallen you deserved?

From what I have observed, more than just the odds define misfortune as undeserved.

Learning from my mistakes, I know I have what it takes to meld hearts into poetics.

So here’s to you, I, and that.

Yours truly,

Sean M. Smith

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Sonnet #20

Sent to you as love sonnets from afar,
Lyricisms transcend despair.  No dread.
So many memories flowing—all supreme.
I am experiencing brighter colors.

I feel nothing but dreams and improvement.
Red-purple, blue-green, and black-white-yellow,
I finally feel the right amount of mellow.
Despite desperate efforts for acceptance,

Few grow to know the doubt of happenstance.
There has to be something more to life.
Apocryphal hate-feels in the tirades.

I became so sad I could not even sing.
Life’s tough at twenty-three and no ring.
Bliss holds no prisoners, nor does it fade.

Sonnet for Benzos #2

Twenty-three, and I just started having sex.
My doctor gave me K pins to sleep.  I don’t
stop fucking my girlfriend wouldn’t
sleep.
All of it is fucking hilarious to me.
I feel like a shaman of blissful nature.
Geodesic slate my foundation.  My heart hidden.
Here’s to finally getting hip with good times.
Here’s to getting back into reason and rhyme.
Hope you have learned more about me recently.
It’s been fun putting myself on display
as art.
Now its all food and snacks and naps, too.
Between me you and the moon, I feel blessed.
To be me right now, is to be happier
Than just about anything else on Planet Earth.

Anti-Sonnet #6

Sincerity with a penchant for brooding…
Here’s to us together without falter.
It’s the way I was born I guess… A mess.
But I love me for it and you should too.
No person has lived until they bequeath
A quite sad conscience everything true about love.
I’d do it again.  I’d keep my heart to myself,
This time.  I miss you more than I miss most
Anything.
Alas, where do the super friends go to?
Seems like all there is to find is shadows.
Heart-lamps flicker in the bored distance.
How do we bridge the gap between me and you.
Because we all want to be closer…
Closer to love.  Closer to Home and Gods.

Sonnet for Benzodiazepenes

Temporal lobe seizures.   Anxiously down.
All concomitantly subside each dose.
These medicines I am prescribed now
Is making my world go round

Nightmare-traumas have receded back to
Nothingness.
I fear no longer the people of the world.
It is the universe that’s ours to twirl.
So let’s spin onwards into success.

Apologies for seeming emotionally absent.
Guess I had a lot to get off my mind.
I will always have a lot of unpacking to do.
We remain kind to all in one’s travels.

No greater joy than to be alive on Earth.
It birthed the breadth of being, dontch’a know?

Anti-Sonnet #3

Don’t pretend accost us because of your
politic!
How dare racists wager persons’ children…
Vicious rues all classes of family.
I’m nauseated by poorly placed hatred.
Could be wrong, but I think killing equates
murder.
Indiscretion labeled a badge of honor,
lately.
White, black, or mixed, this is bigger than us.
Quit shaming Booker T. Washington’s life.
We have come too far to go back in time.
We’ve had people threaten to murder us.
We’ve survived people trying to rape us.
Live out the consequences of being.
Treat innocent civilians with respect.
I don’t fear time won’t heal this wounded land.

Sonnet #9

Crumbled ruins and snake vines common.
Despite desperate efforts for acceptance,
Few grow to know the doubt of happenstance.
There has to be something more to life.
Deciphering hate-feels in the mirror.
I became so sad I could not even sing.
Life’s tough at twenty-three and no ring.
Discarded fate and became cheerier.
Bliss holds no prisoners, nor is bliss all
that captivating.  Free your heart. Beside
The whispering willow, meadowlarks sighed.
What’s more beautiful than color in Fall?
The Maiden has breached the iron gated castle.
Fortunately, love is not a hassle.