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    Sea of Iron Hands
    Sea of Iron Hands
    Sea of Iron Hands
    Ebook91 pages25 minutes

    Sea of Iron Hands

    By Erica Jean Smith

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Some thoughts are meant to be spoken. Others are meant to be written so that it may be said. "Sea of Iron Hands" is that book. Poetry that can be as flowery as your grandmother's garden ingrained with thorny truths embedded in verse on every page.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherErica Jean Smith
    Release dateJul 22, 2012
    ISBN9781476489391
    Sea of Iron Hands
    Author

    Erica Jean Smith

    Erica Jean Smith enjoys reading and writing fiction and has also published inspirational poetry which kind of reveals her heart and some thoughts she has on life. When not writing, Erica enjoys practicing the Bamboo flute, Pilates and designing personal web pages. She loves feedback about her stories, so visit any of her networks to chime in about her books or just to connect!

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      Book preview

      Sea of Iron Hands - Erica Jean Smith

      *June 25th 1982

      farewell to my twenties

      is farewell to the toned-

      honed fruity, flirty flower

      and welcoming

      three decades of learning hours

      three decades of learning hours

      fortified a number of things

      such as low self esteem about pimples

      to svelte figure learning geometric figures

      and first kisses

      to maturing, loving, saving dimes and nickels

      saving dimes and nickels

      surviving in economic downturns

      forging new friendships not drinking

      tap water

      cutting back calories

      turning 30 can’t be that bad- I’m thinking…

      *Beginning of poem appears online at The Gogyohka_Junction

      Thoughts in Pre-Salvation

      There is no moon. There is no sun. There is no us.

      The boy told Neo, There is no spoon

      He’s probably right.

      E-v-o-l-u-t-i-o-n

      It dances on the end of my tongue, feasts on the front

      of my brain and spell takes root. I am a believer.

      I am contemplating a beginning from whence

      I have no memory.

      I am calculating chances for which I know no time.

      I am hoping for simple answers for which there are

      none if I was not there- from the beginning.

      They tell me, single celled organ-isms swam in the muck.

      And the mire.

      I believe it.

      And when this cell swam ashore the molten Earth.

      And when the bleeding stopped.

      And when the stars began to dot the horizon.

      And when the moon came out from hiding

      and sun stood shining.

      Where were we?

      Where was my mate? Where’d he come from?

      If it is Evil to know…if it is Evil to know.

      Is it good not to?

      Kronos Ate the Children

      And slithered down the galaxy
      Made its way to flora and fauna
      We’re ghosts, just here and we toil
      And then tomorrow the same for eternity.

      Happy Desolated Land

      Love is like a fire,
      Destroying
      Making new islands
      After a volcanic
      Wake

      We Walk

      Shores and sand, granules

      For measurement of eternity

      Listless creatures, slink and sullenly

      Conversing and rocking back in forth

      Causing ripples of remembrance.

      Dreams

      Fog,

      Is hard to grasp

      It leaps like a

      Gazelle and when asked for

      Meaning, the memory fails me

      Creation

      You shaped me with smooth

      Strokes.

      Then kissed my

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