the smedley log - suburban scrawl

Old City Twin

(Warning—this is a repeat entry. If you are offended by such things please look away, but if you weren’t reading this blog in April, 2004, chances are it’ll be new to you. For more posts from my old story archive, please click here.)

We met in front of the north face of City Hall that day. It was late January, but not very cold. We decided to have lunch at the Reading Terminal Market. While we ate and talked, she combed over the movie listings for a decent matinee. There were several playing that I would have been okay with seeing, but she spotted the new Julia Roberts movie, Sleeping with the Enemy, playing in Old City.

Our preferred show time wasn’t for another hour, so we settled on a leisurely stroll of fifteen city blocks or so, east on Market to Second, then over a couple blocks south to the AMC just a stone’s throw from Penn’s Landing. We bought tickets, popcorn and soda, then meandered into the theater with about ten minutes to spare.

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new

if fears play out w/bitter lies
based solely on the past,
and memories are laced w/cries
to bring the former back;
if all my lost romantic wars
convince me of the curse
that I have not known love before,
then you could be the first.

Covert

You put me in your shadows;
box me like old magazines;
tear up all the photos,
lest they end up being seen.

You make sure no one’s looking
just before you take a chance,
lest they see you kissng
me, or catch us in a dance.

Say they won’t understand it,
so we’d best keep from the light;
you talk like we planned it,
when it’s more than we could write.

If you’re the secret angel,
fanning flames inside my soul,
how will I be able
to remain invisible?

unspoken

My dreams are just a whisper now,
But wonders lie ahead.
I still recall the cold, hard ground
Where nothing grows (-they said).

But spring will always remedy
The cold of winter’s grasp,
As sure she has lifted me
From dwelling in the past.

Her smile, a soft, unspoken thrill
That flutters in my veins,
Leaves inspiration to fulfill
The hope to fly again.

I’d tell you what my love is like,
But words fall by the way.
And pictures fail to realize
The senses she can sway.

I’d tell you what my love is like,
But words will only lie-
-hers are the eyes I gaze upon
And stumble to describe.

Satellite

You be the sun;
I’ll be the moon;
just let your light
come shining through.
And when night comes,
just like the moon,
I’ll shine the light
right back to you.

Human Condition

Sunlight affords us these graceful collisions,
catching our eyes in the face of decision.
I was put here to explore this-
-you were the object before this
was ever my place.

And what of the masses? They clamor,
smashing the subtle with hammer(in-hand);
These are the urges I can’t understand:
slaying the angels on devil’s command.

Increase is gotten, if only for greed,
leaving the least in the hour of need;
heroes could rise, but fools exorcise
everything worthy of honor that dies,
birthing the martyrs with beams in their eyes-
-sightless conspirators leading the blind.

sun rises, sets, on these human conditions;
angels that weathered the war of attrition,
survivors left mourning the rift,
left counting the dreams we dismiss

the previous

i was an innocent traveling on,
watching the scenery, stumbling upon
myst’ries and secrets all scrawled in a book,
almost revealing, but i never looked.

all this time we remained unaware
with each generation is more weight to bear.

but i was a young man and ignored the call;
i had the pride that remained from the fall,
living a life so oblivious:
that mine’s the result of each previous…

still, so much time’s been thrown away,
trying to pretend that we’ve not gone astray,

but

this is my history, here with the ghosts,
moving through wet grass and grave marker stones.
whose are the remains left under my feet?
-souls who have gone now, their maker to meet.

same boat

everyone here has been broken;
each soul has been snapped in two;
don’t think that the pain left unspoken
makes anyone stronger than you.

of all that compels us to hide now,
there’s little that sets us apart.
this solitude that I confide now
is shared by the same in your heart.

some of us dream of compassion,
while some beg for crosses to bear,
where martyrdom chases contrition,
and martyrs line up to compare…

stratosphere

I wasn’t raised in your stratosphere
and somehow you know
there are days when I just don’t fit here
and it’s so far from my home

I wasn’t waiting for forgiveness,
but I’ll take it just the same,
I wasn’t searching for a helping hand,
but if you can ease my pain,

I could use it now.

I wasn’t raised in your stratosphere-
think I’m from somewhere else
where the loneliness, the angst and the fear
grew around me like a cell.

still I don’t deserve forgiveness,
though I don’t mind sympathy,
and I can’t afford this love of yours,
but I’ll take it if it’s free-

‘cause I could use it now-
-with my faith failing;
swallowed by the doubt
‘til I can’t breathe;
and when I’m going down,
with my arms flailing,
is when you come around
and rescue me.

in bloom

precious little child, just reveal your smile;
the world will all be yours in just a little while.
the perfect and unblemished only spoil the view,
while beauty grows in fields revealed to just a few.

frightened little thing, don’t you hide your eyes;
I know the world is cold—you should realize
the truth is seldom found without the scars,
and easy roads will rarely ever take you far.

lonesome little one, don’t you waste your time
waiting for the recognition of the blind.
those fools will look at you, but they’ll never know
the beauty that resides with inside your soul.

shining little star, don’t you hide your light;
don’t let it burn out—gotta keep it up bright.
and don’t you ever fret for what they don’t see,
‘cause what you really are is what you are to me.

K.

bring on the doctors,
roll in the sciences now,
asking for answers
they can’t allow.

should’ve been long gone
two, maybe three years by now,
but you weren’t that easy
to figure out.

and the glow’s long gone
as the cold comes on…

if we’re digging your grave,
won’t you please be contagious now?
and how dare you fade-
-it feels like you’re leaving me out.
just counting the reasons
I can’t have you leaving me now,

I knew this was coming,
but still I’m not ready.
I never will be
as strong or as steady
without you.

this cancels my reasons;
I can’t have you leaving
without me.

we dreamt of a lifetime-
-it should’ve been longer than this.
why can’t we return to then?

but if I’d known the value,
and if I had known the risk,
I swear, Love, I’d do it again.

Harley

Here’s what I can recollect: a dark coat, old and faded;
a sentence in the lobby where farewell was contemplated.
Wary of the pending choice, of doom anticipated,
balanced on the other side by pain left unabated.

Beckoned to the smaller room—a metal table waited.
The doctor tried to reassure that first he’d be sedated,
followed swiftly by the sight of Harley’s eyes vacated.
Thirty seconds, give or take, ‘til our companion faded.

Spark

Whole worlds spring from just one touch – - set in motion, spinning ‘round;
just your skin,
no sight or sound;

These hard to hide
infectious tides
of feeling
swelling
deep inside;

the faded color surging back,
the vibrant rising from the black;
as inspiration leaves your lips,
and all the world begins with this.

second guess

the night is dark;
the stars aren’t out;
I stared for hours
up from the ground.
I heard a silent song-
-taught myself to sing along.
you could be listening;
I could be wrong.

you ran your hand
right through the sky.
can’t tell if that
was in my mind.
I’ve run for all these years,
and somehow I’m still here;
you might be laughing now
at all my fear.

untitled

tell me how it is to see
the distant heavens glow,
and lock within your eyes a gleam
so rarely seen below.
show me what it is you do
that I feel half awake,
as when a dream is barely through
yet gone without a trace.

and be the muse unrealized
that waits to feel the sun,
and lives on the requited side
of unrequited love.

every other time

*
I took you for an angel with your grace.
One smile from you and I forget my place;
That’s all it takes.

And if, for your affections, I would vie,
Tell me, would it do me any good to try
To make you stay?

Or would you walk away?

I dream of ways to sweep you off your feet-
don’t wanna know the failure I could meet,
‘cause every other time I look at you,
I fear my best-laid plans are falling through .

**
I’m running from the voices in my head-
-they tell me I should run from you instead .
But I can’t yet.

Say that I’m a fool to stand my ground,
But wiser men than me have fallen down;
I won’t pretend

I know more than them

I dream of ways to tell you how I feel;
So what if I’m the ground beneath your wheels-
If my best-laid plans have all but fallen through,
Then what have I to lose by telling you?

***
I took you for an angel with your grace.
I penciled in the lines I can’t erase.
-so familiar

Now I can’t dry the tears upon your face-
When hope has left me here with my mistakes.
Oh Cecilia,

I lost my way.

So many words I wish I’d said to you,
but Life is short and chances here are few;
‘cause time is one thing I cannot renew – The best laid plans are falling, falling through…

(I dream of ways to sweep you off your feet-
don’t wanna know the failure I could meet,
‘cause every other time I look at you,
I swear my finest dreams are coming true.)

Burning

This fire is more than able
to put me in my place,
sheltered by the angel
dancing in the flames.
This closure isn’t stable;
this answer isn’t straight,
as fires of burning hazel
are spitting in my face.

And I would play the savior
if you asked me to;
I’d become a martyr
just like lovers do;
I won’t beg compassion
that I can’t deserve;
I won’t feign contrition
just to join the herd.

These masquerading fables
betray our better selves,
tempting bitter angels
to leave us in our hell.
These times of lies and labels
keep begging me to stray,
but fires of burning hazel
are standing in the way.

Imagined

I thought of you this morning while the sun was hiding still;
I traced your form as you were lying there.
A gentle wave of whisper and imaginary thrill
Drifted through the peaceful solitaire.

I dreamt of you, envisioning a thousand moonlit scenes.
In every one, the smile that you wear
Reminded me my reverie was just another dream
Drifting on the early morning air.

Like Fred…

I’d change my shoes coming in off the street.
I’d touch the lives of those I’ll never meet.

I’d have the mind of a child, even in my old age;
I’d be tender like youth, yet wise like a sage.

I’d hang up my sweater in a closet by the door.
I wouldn’t lie to the kids, but I’d still reassure.

I wouldn’t worry about what’s cool, just about what’s right,
and know I changed the world when I lie down each night…

…if I could be like Fred.

The Girl Who Knew Too Much

The new girl’s been saying it’s harder to trust,
That it’s easier to walk when the pain is too much.
She’s not buying anything they have to say.
Don’t take it personal—she just goes that way.

And it doesn’t matter that I’m not like them.
I still feel the pressure to be different.
It isn’t the happiness she’s hiding from;
It’s more about knowing the trouble to come.

Still I don’t want to let go.
But I should already know
If someday I’m ready,
When—I can’t say,
She may not be waiting—It just goes that way.