To Be Grateful...

All writing and Photos

Shared here are written, photographed

& owned by me.

Daniel J. Smith

please visit my Photography site at

http://www.djsmithphotography.blogspot.com/

 * Please scroll down to continue your visit

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A Note-

 

These are out-takes so far from a project I am working on -

from my own personal expierience~

A book of thoughts and moments and My images 

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Gardens Of  Days...

Gardens of  Days

Slip through the ivy gates

into the past tense

of thoughtfully planted living moments

Where tender shoots rise up toward new light

And brittle leaves tumble downward

to soften a footfall

into a quiet hush .

Safe and familiar labyrinth

Feels like, how home smells

Beckoning to its human perennials

a return over and over-

 For inside its shadowy paths

We learn the secrets

ponder to the how and why

 it speaks a Deep-rooted calling

 from distant existences

And voices whisper up

Like a cricket in harmony with the cicada

Reminders from darker days

We had to visit ,to walk our own

from the blood and mud underfoot

Scent of earth and grass, 
per-fumy drying petals of beauty

Now circulate through these winding walks

Breeze that ushers us down

 the darkening but mysterious path

thick with vines and chirping and buzzing

I could be drawn here eternally

forever to just lay inside

Under the old low thickets

limbs of the oak tangles of sea grasses

and sleep peaceful while guarded safe

In your embrace..

Nestled in your faithful arms

As the waters gently lap

rhythmically against ancient shores

 …Just let me go when its time again .

To become and  to be aware.

Awakened anew.

And to be able to remember the thoughts,

The loves and the lessons

I am grateful 

to have been washed in

DS

15

Spiraling

Downward at times 
Im falling
this human coil

hear a far away voice- 
calling out, helping

.. I do know you're there...
I've never doubted it-  much
at times I hear you in my thoughts..., 

sense you in my life's actions 
and words..even the bitter.

I still feel you in my heart.. 
Holding me in your hand. 

when I've fell.. the 3rd time
Omni present -and Bright.
Especially when i struggle...

Lift me up to your light
through these tree tops high
a place to be one again
real and pure

Thank u for not giving up on me, 
and reminding me why
 I am...still here
.❤ you are Grace.


Daniel Smith
10/17/16

   _____________________Unraveling

Headed out

Once more alone ...

but now, in secret,

I Tied a red, thin thread to you

Then around my brave heart.

Connecting me as I fall away,

A distance that takes the

breath from my chest..

Back to where I come from,

Like a red line on a map,

Tracing the road from here to there,

me to you,

this long and twisting red line

as a vein travels back to its source,

unraveling into forever,

drops of learning and sharing

deep things , as red as blood

as I am strung to your soul.

Time and space, between, expanding

Too fast.,. thinning,

This invisible red line,

a magical kind of heart energy'

as I travel away;

through dark nights to my home,

stretched threadbare,

to its limits ,this only thing ,

connecting us..

it is scaring me, the distance so great,

like telephone lines that connect

over oceans of dark waters

only our small voices.

And Red lines vibrating

across the wide land, hopeful

bringing my flow to yours,

currents of energy,

criss-crossing these broad lands

between our bodies,

memories fading

as though just a fine tendril

a lock of your hair I can still smell

Still It holds me close to you

like a red satin string,

pulling loose from the edge

of my hearts cover

that was knitted

from your mouth

and unspoken promises

laid upon kisses

unraveling, as I am here

and you get, further away,

exposing my vulnerable

proud, pounding heart ,

and it is getting colder.

More frightened.

As Your silhouette fades

away to shadows

engulfed into the past

This fragile ,worn red string pulled tight,

Crossing hundreds of miles, now seems

Dangerously thin at its limits

Every new day, we are apart,

Sadly, I dig in.

holding on like hope

Anchor its end to my insides,

Tie it down like a kite string, in the wind,

A place where you took me,

to such heights.

But for now, I know you are out there,

Even if this line disappears

into the thick fog and freezing snow

dark depths of rivers crossed,

I can feel your weight on the end ...

Like a frightened fish,

I will pull it till I can find You

ok, .. on the other end,

Ready to accept me back ,

And unravel your hearts need to mine.

So, for now, keep your porch light on,

so I can see it, find it

from the distance,

and with will alone

I’ll be headed out in the night,

back to your hand,

and your arms,

where we can keep warm

each other .

from the cold truth of life,

with the hearts fire

of real acceptance.

Waiting for life to be revealed

Unraveled, together…

... And entangled.

Ds-06

NYC 2000

11:04 PM, Aug 15, 2000 - NYC

Thick damp summer heat

infused with smells of chemicals and decay

rising upward, into my open street window

can feel the warmth of it rolling off the streets

engulfing me in its clammy moist sickness

...as so many vacant and lost faces March righteously on.

ever double timing quickly to the call of their ego's need

I can hear the desperate voice of a lone cicada

in a sparse tree on the street,

lost and wandering useless in this urban jungle,

uselessly calling out for another like him..
I feel the same at times..

and the tree, as if a white flag of surrender -it waves,

a wayward plastic bag caught on a barren twisted limb.

like a plea...constant flapping and crinkling in the wind

not at all unlike the many homeless I witness ,

heaped like rubbish bags on nearly every corner and door jam..

seemingly melting in this heat to the sidewalk.

stuck forever in this hell?

...

All reminding me of the Irony I see in everything

here in this city, where dreams of riches are far more important

and where lives are expendable and disposable.

..How different this reality I live now,..so for from the safe days of my youth,

when A cicadas call from near the farm pond trees,

was a sound that recalls

Home, summer love, honest Farm work,

and innocent fun in the fragrant clean grass and warm sun.

but now , here.. A melancholic reminder of A time long gone,..

a familiar perfume, I can vaguely smell ,

a distant voice calling.. like a whisper form my own past.

 

Yet here I am...In these Halls, sky high and steely rude.

the valley of the lost soulless..

the cicadas call calls again ,

yet drowned out by the clinking of empty liquor bottles

from late nights, fast living..

that will always haunt me, to myself

so tempting to just, deliciously drowning out the pain,

so as to feel nothing real.

reminding me of the clinking empty glass vials of morphine,

used to numb injured soldiers at war.

And me at nights end, alone again in this bar, left like a medic,

to clean them up, and back to my one room cave like apartment ,

with only the distorted mumbling voices

through the wall near my bed to keep me company..

This lonely place costs as much as a house in most other cities..

not nearly as cheap ,

As I feel at times, for my choice in Living here.

These are the thoughts that stir in me

 the need to find HOME, again

when I look in the mirror and I see my face ,

drawn and so affected,

so far from real LIVING..

far from where my heart tells me I should be

Alone and misunderstood, in this ignorant and selfish place..

where "survival of the fittest"..becomes

selling out, more than you can afford to loose

and buying up more than your share..

A place where your worth

 is in direct proprtion to your chicness and look..

too long.. I have strived to make myself fit

at any cost, out of control like blurred speeding traffic

departing into the abyss from my values ..

So you see..

to save myself.

I must go...

for me.

DJS-8/2000

_____________________________________________________________

Coldness

So much...
So what
So little
Not enough
Barely even
a touch

One day.. two
Becomes a life
Too slight..to cold
lost in the trees
and yes, you knew
No one to grow old

So much inside
Yet less to show
These cold new days
hollow days to know
with no desire returned

the few bits I have
I know too well.
now comes the snow

solo
so low
slow go
all i know
.. need to let it go
needy ego.

Too little too offer
It's only the Outside they see
And in my chest
it's as frozen as
the winter trees

Every night
holding on, to myself
How I long
And wait so patient
for one to fit right

Hope is my song
for now . all i hear
u to see my light..
come steal me away
middle of the night
no fear

To thaw this heart
see me-For me
true love hold me tight
And set me free...

       warming the cold,
no longer apart. 

DS

9/3/14

ME@ 20

I am just reflecting..

remembering where I arrived here from .

All the thoughts of aging..and youth.

what I have done, learned and have seen.

years go so fast...

don't waste a minute!

I wrote this (below)-when i was younger...Above

and could still recall clearly the smells of longer days,

and tastes of things as a young man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crash
Moving fast, No direction,
Always speeding headlong
into the loose gravel roads of youth,
Hills and curves come up quickly,
Not prepared…
A look in the rear view,
too late to see anything,
Except the frozen look of disbelief,
on the frightened face of myself.
Once again, too late ; too fast.
CRASH...

silent slowmotion impact-
Strewn and shimmering in the hot sun,
Shattered glass of my world,
and dreams of the future,
Alongside twisted and torn metal of body,
still smoking,
With wheels still spinning in air,
like my ego.
And there , my soul,
lie crushed and bleeding,
in tall weeds of roadsides of youth,
better not visited.
Pulled from the wreckage, saved again
My spirit, close enough to witness,
another accident of my own ignorance.

as I come into my body again -realization..
Struggling to breath, undo the done.
Only wanting to stand,
whole and brilliant again.
I promise to myself, this time to learn.
These scars will always be,
Reminders of how far I've come
How far there is yet to travel.
This time slowly ,
Taking time to see.
To learn.

what ...whom, ~I have lost.

and will never forget.
-

Above Photo of me-Chicago
1991DS

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Suttle Giants

I touch down in a valley

where blackbirds gather on the wind,

Nomadic travels have pulled me

towards you, guided here.

with symbols, signs and numbers

ushering my path westward,

to become lost in these

suttle hills and valleys

these ghostly giants ,

watching from the distance,

keeping you here safely hidden,

like the mysterious quiet,

of the encroaching blanket fog,

Slowly carressing the orchards

and swallowing up the veiw.

cradling this ancient place, of distant ghosts ,

Hillsides rising softly, upward

Inspiring shadows and shapes of painted light,

ridges colored so pale by the coolness of the falling clouds,

enveloping their aching curves,

Making the colors of sky and earth melt into one

like new lovers, in a artists dream.

quietly grand and upward moving,

momentum of life.

these things, in these hills, of the west.

Where the distance grows

closer to seamlessness,

as your heart is to mine,

where I've been called

to feel grounded here, with you.

in your soft strong earthly arms,

mountains of ghostliness

intrigue tugging me into your valleys,

holding me tightly

side by side

to your honest heart,

wishing it never to end,

I am full inside with you,

As i had dreamed it would be.

Thank you.

-DJS-
2/05

____________________________________

Hardest Days

I've been spending too many days

hours upon hours...

Im weakening

... trying to bury my truths

from public view

seemingly always watching

through these broken windows

to my soul

i dont want you to know

this self judgement i hold onto

..need to be brave

meanwhile-

I've trudged through backfields,

strewn with bleached bones

Of memories, secrets past.

Heart aching from the ignorance,

And mind dazed from acts of hatred.

losses of my own

All ...way to young

I have waded across rivers,

Still, Stained blood red

From battles of Ego

those who have gone before me,

giving up

Still I am confused…lost

Trying to fit in, spirit sore

From too many

mistakes of learning

Legs heavy with the weight I am to carry.

And eyes clouded with mud of expectation.

ideals ...impossible for us

I push on, making excuses,

and spitting them out

Like bitter words, through broken teeth.

Feelings akin to a leper,

It is this learning of wrongs, which will teach

In the end, Strength.

to be true

It is not so cruel,

If you become you, re-born

Safe again, in arms of honesty.

For all paths lead to truth,

To Gods Home.

Inside our own heart…

where We are ..

all ONE.

ds

DS / 1-01

DS / 1-01
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To Be Grateful...

VAGABOND

Sometimes we all get lost in the woods...

-If you live In the Northern tier of our country, (as I do) , you no doubt have experienced the NEW ICE AGE, we have been having this past week. It has been reaching Tepms down to -25 at night and highs some days at 1' F. ! -ok, so this isn't the first time, but it seems It has been a long time! Im seriously considering the fact that Indians and cave men lived in this stuff!?? damn! It also brings to mind, Those unfortunate People who have nothing at all, and are out on the streets and My heart wishes it could do someting ...

While I was living in NYC it always amazed me , How many people were on the streets there, and how they got there, Im sure most were unfortunately there due to mental illness and need for medication (that are not affordable to them) .One time I sat down with a pregnant girl , she was 17 and had no shoes and was just staring ahead with out any expression. it was frightneng the conversation we had, about her life and losses at her young age.. I gave her what I could and made a point to pass by her corner, on the way to work daily, to check on her...Keep them in your prayers, and hopeully this cold will let up.

*Here is a poem I wrote after my talk to her that day...in 2001.

~A reminder to be grateful for all the things we have daily, that some go without everday.

Vagabond I see you in myself,
Sitting there on the cold street.
Smelling of the earth,
scars on your feet.
I see me in your eyes,
A blankness of seeing too much,
A heart too full of tears
Detached from years
without anyone's touch.
An Urchin,
living from primal needs,
Surviving on borrowed time.
As walking ghosts.
Seeing life as a scrapbook of memories,
That no-one would believe.
Except for those who have shared,
These streets with me,
Fought valiantly for their beliefs,
Held the hand of my soul…
And drank deeply from the well
of another humans heart.
As I have.

~hold on

help is on the way...Ds
4-01

SLIPPING

Blurred eyes see through

my minds still frames

my life...

moments of our times

not seized, slip by us.

and long days continue on,

like waves to the distant sands.

away...we are carried

from shores of youth,

the places we called home

inescapable to all

as memories fade

distance grows

I fear loss..

As these things seem so small

foriegn & far away.

faces are hard to recall,

but Love still strong

as their scent lingers.

like someone else’s story

becoming heavy, like stones

worn by the tides

they weigh us to those who we shared with

the heart is a rock,

our pure love.

even if memory cannot speak it's names

like a slipping beautiful image, upon waking

these watery dreams

carrying these pages,

moments of treasure

as postcards adrift

on the surf of our convaluded past,

onto today.

one day I will recall

days shared with you.

re-read from dripping pages,

ink smeared

as I watch, YOU

lovingly and sadly,

slowly sinking downward

a once brilliant star

now barely a glimmer

of a small grey stone.

glinting up from the bottom

of this deep

murky sea

never will I forget the weight

of your impact in my life.

You will still shine forever…

like the soft worn blue glass

on the beach underfoot

bringing to me

fortunes of memories..

full of Love.

--DJS--
love you Grandma...

Recollection well

A dream felt

as though real

Like dipping cool clean water

From a black deep well..

Pulling it up so far..

Mists rising from

the echoing walls

of times lost

These ideas, feelings.

so precious.

as vital water.

Like life energy.

So central to survival.

One time you knew me

That now

we’ve gone beyond

Our past bodies,

like dry leaves

fallen from branches

Renewing the cycle

on the forest floor

A shift like the light,

From morning ..to night

You told me then..

In words that now

I can’t recognize

A language foreign ..

A feeling so deep

How nothing would stop .

A fading Vision

like a glimmering mirage.

I see through

this current view

make out a distant memory

Transparent and faded,

But embedded clearly

In my heart.

Similar to your face now

it was so true

And I see you ,

when I look close

Deeply in your eyes

Beyond the days before

In another time.

Lives crossed like tapestry

And woven together
from strings of hope
worn thin from time.

Yarns of pure love

entwined into the collective whole .

We embraced then

in some dark fire lit castle

Echoes of forgotten moments

…And now in this eve

On your bedroom floor

In the light of your laptop.

Your smell remains the same.

Your hands feel the same

And I recall

Only my need of you

In my life a way

As if my breath in my lungs.

That seems constant

…right and fulfilled

Good and solid

I don’t want to know the ending..

This day.

I have faith in this

Time has seen

And will be true

This has always been

Us.
My life with you. 

DJS
9-10

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Old Family Tree 

 

There’s an old tree

Been there for all time,

roots go so deep

They hang down
into the morning sky

Above the place

where I was born
 into this earth

and below Where

We all will return one day.

 

It shape is telling, broken and craggy

But its history, more so

As it yearns to reveal
all of its precious stories

Seed brought here

From across seas rough and cold.

Years as many as its rings unfold

We, as branches sprout and reach

Toward our loves, dreams our destinies

rain washes over
like tears from joy

Watering down from heavens care.

All directions, tangled but together

And in learning they are bent

With weights of snows

Broken by winds of trials

And roots exposed by lean days

Still it stands, as we are all part

It has many scars but

Some like hearts -carved in youth,

Some of lightning,

broken hearts that tear.

 

It also has many leaves
 new growth

With blooms to share

 

Days unfolding us into the future

As we are carried on,

all a Part of its trunk

Love , a lifetime to bear.

Until the fall days when we take our turn

Falling , dry and lifeless
waiting for the long winter

Frosty were held near her bosom

until we are gathered
together all

Home at the hearth of her

warm soils we become
that feed and nurture

The next part carries on

A tree now hewn by hand 

as A cross

 for all ages and trials

bearing the weight

 of A forgiveness and sacrafice
so big

real love

Reborn anew

With hope.

-DJS-

2010 

_________________________

  1000  Days of Longing

Lost in a heat wave
of mid July
The thick humid air


Fills my nose with scents

Of beach, seawater, sweat,
 green grass and sex
once innocent, 

fast days of warm summer 

music, food & a long lazy afternoon,

spent far from prying eyes.
On old flannel blanket
In tall grass fields

along the dusty dirt road…
nearby the sea-blue waters edge
New youthful travels..

A journey of unending,

tumultuous adventures
To yet another new destination.

Tan bodies and fine bones
With nothing to do but learn
Experience, days with time to burn
…
in every corner on earth, it goes on,
right now somewhere.

Hot sun reflecting on tight, slippery skin,
warm breeze releases the essence
of patchuli musk tangled in your hair.

Lost, In these tall green grass moments.
Hands wringing in anticipation,
Toes curling in ecstasy,

Mouths gaping, wide open
As if feasting,
Thirsty for this fix
Drinking it all in, taking it slow.

Love junkies..

Cigarette smoke curling upward

In darkened rooms
Filling the air with it's dry mist.
as the unspoken truths
 fall to the floor
in secret in passion

All this, and never is it enough,
To make up for

 losses gained…

Knowing that tomorrow,
This black snaking line of a road
Beckons me on again,
Calling me to travel on.
1000 more days of longing to bear..
under a sky so big, so blue
through valleys too cold, too dark
over mountains so tall.

Again, all alone…
a life too far detached ,
always longing…
for home…
for just one lasting taste,

of A single
true love.

DJS
4-2000
--------------------------------------------

My Vine Adapting


We are let into this field
of storms and sun,
As fruit , slowly swelling
Plumping on the vine,
The stems of our lives feeding us,
Up from the nutrients of earth,
Of People we meet -lives we touch.
Hearts we swim deeply into…
All Pulled Up from our roots,
a history we are guided from.
Our direction, apt to change
upon the environment we occupy,
need to bend and sway,
to survive, grow.
Through the thickness and brambles
obstacles that we cross,
As multi-dimentional beings.
Malleable we must be
if we are to prosper,
must always reach toward the light .
while…struggle to fight
the constant temptation
the dark urges of gravity
pulling you downward,
so easy to give in..
the power to overcome ….it molds us
we give in and conform
as much as we can stand
will we remain true ?
at times…
splitting spirit from soul
body from needs.
I revel in a day fulfilled
Doing that which makes me closer ..
To my gifts, my calling.
The cause to love fully
A drive to be whole inside and out.
Without loosing to much to change,
That I may become
unrecognizable to myself,
I pray…when the time comes
Where you reach for me,
To anchor your heart,
In my clear waters.
That then I will realize ,
This vine has found its garden
our roots will be finally quenched
and the beautiful blooms of life
unfold toward the waiting suns embrace.
Fulfilled and beautiful ,
As was promised long ago.Ds
11-05

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Through Winter

We are changing ;

sometimes unseen.
a constant renewal
as a tender shoots, in the woods
wintertime takes from spirit
as we dry up and shrivel
become part of its cold embrace .
disappearing for a time
a darkened thoughtless slumber ..
and in a new day,
warmer than now..
like a magical spark
it brings forth a new unfurling arm
a kiss we never knew felt like this.
a new look at a day
in front of you
and what it can be as
holding another’s hand
love with the suns warm rays on your face
like a resurrected winter fern
now full
bloom and ready to live
in summer breezes and
full up to share
beauty within our new world
now seen after the snows melt
watering roots eager to grow.
anew together
with its past afoot
dry leaves ,like tinder
blowing around the forest floor
Dangerous reminders,
where we come from
and the birds fill the air
with song.
As I reach upward
Soaking up the love.

DJS-2012

Here I am, again…

 

By bus, in a car, a plane or boat..

I am here
Yet again
No matter how it goes ,
How it comes.
It always Ends.
Return to what I know well
All I know for sure, its leaving time
Familiar distance from here to home..
need to be there ..stretched thin
By people..lies..greed
and a great divide
Between my values
and their need of things ,money
satiated by lustful desire
and the accompanying lie of unauthentic..life
lived vicarious via photos
in magazine ads , secret internet, on tv .
ones of too much, nothingness ,
but we weigh our lives worth
next to the mist of created realistic falsehood.
YOU can keep up with Joneses
I’m a Smith
And am taking this exit
while I’m Still ME.
Thanks for setting my trajectory on course
It seems i was lost.
I Slammed into a dream that
Will never be.
I am real, that’s where I belong.
On my own legs and my hard working hands.
Swimming through my own life,
bike through the confusion
run down my love of things , true.
Sometimes hard things are worth the feelings
akin to wealth of joy.
Good-Bye competitive fakes –
who will never reach a real level
of honest living giving back to the whole
Yet.they pretend so well to be
Something else.
they cant see..the truth
They will never know
A calm beauty of the true
knowing and accepting

their own selves .

~DJS~