Laura Smith Writer

Category: Poetry

  • Poem of the Day Project

    Continued! I have been writing one poem per day as part of my morning writing routine. Some make sense, others do not, but all rise from my desire to delve under the surface of language and to connect to universal truths. The following poem was written in the beginning of this poetry journey, while watching…

  • Poem of the Day: January 17, 2026

    Striving for perfection -A nip over here A nip over thereHere’s some blush There’s some paintEverywhere a “get thin.”Stewing in silence Seeping in the patriarchyWe ignore the signs that the pot is boiling Over.And we are drowning in exhaustion.Pick. Pick. Pick at your face.Judge your skin, your flesh,Your gorgeous rounded thighs.Nip Tuck Paint Blush Cut…

  • Poem of the Day

    Poem of the Day

    Today I journaled about presents. The kind one gets at Christmas, those presents that you still have 45 years after receiving, those presents rooted in feeling of joy and safety. I began the day irritable; I was scared about the events occurring in my country and felt like lashing out. I was angry, so I…

  • Poem of the Day Project

    Poem of the Day Project

    January 6, Delicate separation from realityoccurs when we look the other way.They say that hope springs eternal – but what does that even meanwhen each shard ofhope is hiddencovered by years of neglect. Buried. we have to digthrough rocky soil to uncover its delicateblossoms – Feel the soft petals bathed in lightbefore returning to the…

  • Poem of the Day Project

    Poem of the Day Project

    Last September I began writing one poem a day at the end of my morning journaling, and I have managed to write almost every day since then. Some of the poems are merely a reflection of random images which, to me, connect metaphorically. Many do not make sense! But here is the first from September…

  • Poem of the Day

    Poem of the Day

    I have been writing a poem each day in my journal. Here is the first, from September of this year.

  • Resistance

    Resistance

    Listening to the silent resistance – the heartbeat of our forgotten ancestors. I am wrapped in pink silk, my bare feet in lush grass, toes gripping – holding me to the earth, roots sink as my spine –rigid – connects to the voices of the past. My anger is metallic – Sharp and cold –…