often, like identical snowflakes

we form the same thought

snowflakes generated apart

under differing influence

but yet the same in shape

size and intricate pattern

said not to be possible

but I have seen it myself

right there, when you text

saying, pick up xzy or abc

and it’s already in the cart

or when I start to explain

and I stop cuz you get it

without words or looks

it’s already formed there

like it was my very own

formed there without seed

just happened to appear

exactly the same somewhere

somewhere other than here

Fresh Snow

Fresh white sheet

on a newly made bed

smooth and featureless

save for lonely large prints

meandering wild and drunkenly

toward a far and distant darkening

thick woods shrouded in evening light

where prints quickly dissolve among shadows

like thoughts caught between awake and asleep

Depressed and feeling it.

Sorry to anyone that faithfully follows or looks forward to my new poems (is there anyone like that?), as I haven’t been really “with it” since I last had a spate of inspiration.  Since then I have kinda swung into a depressive state and my productivity all around is a bit lacking.

Anyone with major depression or bipolar disorder (I or II) will know what I mean.  It was strange, I could tell something was up.  I found myself unable to really focus or complete tasks straight through without brain-dead periods mixed in.  That’s when I first noticed something was changing.

I was working, sitting my computer entering some data, nothing complicated really, just data entry and found that I had stopped typing and I was just staring at the screen and not thinking about anything.  And it was a struggle, like shaking out a cramp, to get myself to refocus.  This was a few days ago.  I had also been struggling staying with something at home, I would jump from video game to video game, to housework, to just standing there lost as to what to do–very unlike me except when I am in a funk.

I didn’t feel overly depressed at the time, nor for the rest of that day, but I had also noted my memory had gone to shit.  I missed two doctor appointments in one week.  Totally spaced them, reminder calls and everything.  My reaction wasn’t, “Oh no, I missed my appointment”.  It was more like, “Yeah….figures…..” and I didn’t really care at all.  The emotional reaction was one more of relief.  Because I didn’t to have deal with it.  *sigh*

Then yesterday about mid-day, WHAM, I am suddenly a breath away from crying for reason.  Just had an over-riding desire to cry….nothing happened, nothing was said.  Things are work were mellow.  Things at home were great.  Just suddenly I felt a deep sense of sadness and heaviness that I think had been building for some time and I just wasn’t allowing myself to feel it.

I think, also, that I have learned how to compensate during depressive or hypomanic states.  That is, I think I have built up mechanisms to help myself deny I wasn’t feeling right.  Either I lied to myself and tried to say I was tired or whatever, but I found ways to not ‘be depressed’.  A couple years ago that was alcohol, now I am starting to notice how I “feel” at any given moment and it’s tough when depressed.  These also included making sure others don’t see my depression.

So, I want to apologize that I haven’t posted any poetry lately, I will try to get that ball rolling again. I have been working on some songs that will be on my A Feat Aslant page before long.  It’s really some interesting experimental stuff, kinda dark, but that’s to be expected right now.

Thanks for reading.


Caught — On a musical Experiment

This a poem, primary about a song I am working on (which you can hear here ), but also about thoughts in general.


like a question forming

itself into a firm shape

to be quickly kicked

sidewalks off kilter

then smeared slightly

until obscured behind

itself it peeks through

then hides amongst

the grey caught

until everything lifts

and the question


Dry Spell

Right now I am struggling through a writing dry spell.  Normally when this happens I switch to some other creative endeavor for some period of time, particularly music — but that’s not happened this time.  Thinking I am struggling with a low-grade depression.  Hmm..

Anyway here’s a photo I just took to look at and think about.

A Dark Stream of Thought
A Dark Stream of Thought

Time is funny thing….

There are few things I like more than seeing the ‘likes’ and ‘follows’ pile up after I post poems, fiction, or just stuff.  Not because I want to have hundreds of followers, or need the ‘likes’ to validate my existence….but because it is represents another connection with someone I have never met.

Through writing, reading, critiquing we can connect where otherwise we never would have.

So, it’s like birds of a feather flocking together….I follow you, you follow me and we create a great mass of interconnectedness….

And Smiling1541 blathers on….time is a funny thing, I wish I could post daily, and connect to so many more people, but given work and everything else….those connections have to wait…

So hello and welcome to all I have connected, don’t be strangers, critique my stuff, I will critique yours, comments, discuss….and I will do more….time permitting….but time is a funny thing…it sorta drags on now, and then flies away at others….funny….one can never peg down time really.


On Being Surprised

Good morning (or whatever time it is when you are reading this).

I wanted to take a quick time out from poetry and the A to Z Blog Challenge and just say the following:

I am very surprised at the amount of the likes and followers I (though mostly my poetry) has garnered in the last month. I would never have thought I’d be around 60 followers in a month, or even a year to be honest. So, thank you everyone that reads, follows, and/or likes what I write. I will keep it up if you do. And don’t be stranger’s, critique away at my poems and other writings. That’s why I post them, to hear from you and what you do and do not like.

Also, please don’tbe offended if I periodically jump in commenting one of your pieces. If I can give, I can get…

On a related note:

It would be great to build a little online poetry/fiction blogging community to critique and discuss other’s writing, similar to the classes I am sure many of us had (or are in now) in college or HS — call it:

A Writer’s Blogger Collective

Let me know if you are interested and i will see about spinning up something/somehow that allows us to do something like in a more organized fashion. A poetry/fiction message forum to help each other become better at our crafts.

Again, thanks for the plesant reception, and I hope to hear from you soon.


Thoughts Bugs

Got that itch,
that little tickle.

At the base of the neck
lower really,
between the shoulders.

Building there,
festering and spreading

Little microbes of feeling
multiplying and burrowing
under the skin.

A seething mass
putrid thought amoeba,
pregnant with pain and old emotions.

Trapped and trapping me
looking for escape.

Drugs numbed and drink distracted
sickness and hangover masked
Wounds still festering untreated.

Rotting and deepening unseen
entering the blood
breeding and boiling there.

Till the infection floods the brain
exploding into a red riot of rage,
and the sharp blue steam of pain.

Until, system in revolt,
the body breaks down,
defences fall and fail.

The years of fear
escape through any crack,
exposed to fresh clean air
burn all the more for it.

Aching be treated correctly, slowly,
with love, patience, and you.