M. Daniel Smith (mdanielsmith.com)
@mdanielsmith.bsky.social
Author of novels in multiple genres (mdanielsmith.com)
Retired, married, living close to nature
New-Englander, Mid-Coast Maine
Socially active
Poetry, my true writer's passion, and novels.
Retired, married, living close to nature
New-Englander, Mid-Coast Maine
Socially active
Poetry, my true writer's passion, and novels.
Well written, and intended. A perfect statement of the power of being present in your own unique bubble of universal energy.
November 26, 2025 at 2:16 AM
Well written, and intended. A perfect statement of the power of being present in your own unique bubble of universal energy.
Escape the fiction of a lie told true.... lest you become the least of who you have the ability to be.
And have always been.
(And definately are, based on your posts and reports of creative enetgy)
And have always been.
(And definately are, based on your posts and reports of creative enetgy)
November 26, 2025 at 2:13 AM
Escape the fiction of a lie told true.... lest you become the least of who you have the ability to be.
And have always been.
(And definately are, based on your posts and reports of creative enetgy)
And have always been.
(And definately are, based on your posts and reports of creative enetgy)
Beads of blossoms framing leaves, in blend of color, shape, and form. A still-life creation holding memories of seasons past and yet to come. We seek these markers taking note of how far we've come in the spin of nature's eternal clock. To savor hours, days, and months, and count our blessings, all.
November 26, 2025 at 2:09 AM
Beads of blossoms framing leaves, in blend of color, shape, and form. A still-life creation holding memories of seasons past and yet to come. We seek these markers taking note of how far we've come in the spin of nature's eternal clock. To savor hours, days, and months, and count our blessings, all.
Drink in the scent of herbal quaff, surrounded by rich floral tones and sun-kissed moments, each another stroke of paint upon the canvas of the day. Stay, a little longer once the cup is empty, cherishing the warmth it brought you on a cool November morn....
November 26, 2025 at 2:04 AM
Drink in the scent of herbal quaff, surrounded by rich floral tones and sun-kissed moments, each another stroke of paint upon the canvas of the day. Stay, a little longer once the cup is empty, cherishing the warmth it brought you on a cool November morn....
Had to keep my words in flow, don't you know...
November 26, 2025 at 1:27 AM
Had to keep my words in flow, don't you know...
Heart going out to you and your friend gone missing. Not knowing is the hardest part, though none of what's happening is easy, by any means. Positive energy, your way sent, to one and all, including Elke, no doubt feeling your sad vibes. As am I, my friend.
November 25, 2025 at 10:51 PM
Heart going out to you and your friend gone missing. Not knowing is the hardest part, though none of what's happening is easy, by any means. Positive energy, your way sent, to one and all, including Elke, no doubt feeling your sad vibes. As am I, my friend.
Hete, before we made our way ashore, in primal pool of nascent life, formed from potential of natural choice.... we clawed our way into the future and will always seek the embrace of Mother sea.
November 25, 2025 at 6:27 PM
Hete, before we made our way ashore, in primal pool of nascent life, formed from potential of natural choice.... we clawed our way into the future and will always seek the embrace of Mother sea.
Those words came through while I studied your painting. Inspired by your creative energy.
November 25, 2025 at 5:57 PM
Those words came through while I studied your painting. Inspired by your creative energy.
Snow settles on seats, awaiting sun's rays.... as people pass by to wherever they're bound. Each to their moments of rest or in rush. The snow, gently listening to morning's soft hush.
November 25, 2025 at 2:09 PM
Snow settles on seats, awaiting sun's rays.... as people pass by to wherever they're bound. Each to their moments of rest or in rush. The snow, gently listening to morning's soft hush.
Whether one was there or not, the sun came up this morning. It rose above horizon's edge in colored hues of crimson-gold. I missed the moment of day's splendorous birth, but will seek its dying in twilight's soft glow, and bid it safe journey til morning comes home.
November 25, 2025 at 2:00 PM
Whether one was there or not, the sun came up this morning. It rose above horizon's edge in colored hues of crimson-gold. I missed the moment of day's splendorous birth, but will seek its dying in twilight's soft glow, and bid it safe journey til morning comes home.
There's a place in the woods where the waters lie still, as the trees gather round and the air lies in wait. Secrets to tell, in breeze softened tone to those who can hear them, and make them their own.
November 25, 2025 at 1:51 PM
There's a place in the woods where the waters lie still, as the trees gather round and the air lies in wait. Secrets to tell, in breeze softened tone to those who can hear them, and make them their own.
In still night looming
As the world awakes to day
Old souls sigh with joy
As the world awakes to day
Old souls sigh with joy
November 25, 2025 at 11:59 AM
In still night looming
As the world awakes to day
Old souls sigh with joy
As the world awakes to day
Old souls sigh with joy
In my mind, as caverns carved out of stone reflect echoes of past lives.... I touch walls made of emotions, painted by those who served as friends, foes, lovers, and others. Each bringing meaning to my own story told. I am exactly where I was always meant to be. Here.
November 25, 2025 at 1:05 AM
In my mind, as caverns carved out of stone reflect echoes of past lives.... I touch walls made of emotions, painted by those who served as friends, foes, lovers, and others. Each bringing meaning to my own story told. I am exactly where I was always meant to be. Here.
A pleasure indeed to write to your own energy, captured on canvas, reflecting the same in return.
November 24, 2025 at 2:33 PM
A pleasure indeed to write to your own energy, captured on canvas, reflecting the same in return.
I write to images that generate an instant flow of words.... as if a transfer of energy between your gifted eye and my well-aged mind. Same way I write my novels, in a stream of consciousness, reading it as it appears on the screen.
November 24, 2025 at 2:31 PM
I write to images that generate an instant flow of words.... as if a transfer of energy between your gifted eye and my well-aged mind. Same way I write my novels, in a stream of consciousness, reading it as it appears on the screen.
Forced by another's misplaced ego to start late, run a perfect campaign against a certifiably insane opponent while maintaining her dignity. Because, ya know, the whole woman thing. Having to.be calm, not loud. Reasonable, not bombastic. One hand tied behind her back.
to.be
November 24, 2025 at 1:50 AM
Forced by another's misplaced ego to start late, run a perfect campaign against a certifiably insane opponent while maintaining her dignity. Because, ya know, the whole woman thing. Having to.be calm, not loud. Reasonable, not bombastic. One hand tied behind her back.
Blame it on Newton. He discovered the damn thing!
November 24, 2025 at 1:47 AM
Blame it on Newton. He discovered the damn thing!
If someone agrees with my opinions, I question their sanity. Then my own.
November 24, 2025 at 1:44 AM
If someone agrees with my opinions, I question their sanity. Then my own.
We learn by doing what not to do again. By paying others to do that which is worth not doing ourselves. Or, as a great scribe once penned: to do, or not to do, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler to hire than to aspire, perspire, and realize one's limits in life. Kudos to you, my wise friend.
November 24, 2025 at 1:41 AM
We learn by doing what not to do again. By paying others to do that which is worth not doing ourselves. Or, as a great scribe once penned: to do, or not to do, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler to hire than to aspire, perspire, and realize one's limits in life. Kudos to you, my wise friend.
A pulse of life in bloomed erupt, abrupt as sun warmed seeds spill life to sun and rain.... over again, through seasons past. To grow, to thrive, then release their grasp and bow to icy, winter rains.
November 23, 2025 at 5:51 PM
A pulse of life in bloomed erupt, abrupt as sun warmed seeds spill life to sun and rain.... over again, through seasons past. To grow, to thrive, then release their grasp and bow to icy, winter rains.
Wait to sing praises to Spring, of Summer's daze, through Autumn's fade.... Winter wraps with snowy arms and cooling breath upon your cheek and whispers promises of warmth to come.....
November 23, 2025 at 5:47 PM
Wait to sing praises to Spring, of Summer's daze, through Autumn's fade.... Winter wraps with snowy arms and cooling breath upon your cheek and whispers promises of warmth to come.....
Every season, a different view of places revisited, seen anew.... through refreshed eyes and open mind. Another page opened to another time.
November 23, 2025 at 5:44 PM
Every season, a different view of places revisited, seen anew.... through refreshed eyes and open mind. Another page opened to another time.
A leaf-strewn view of Fall's foliage art, displayed for passerby to see.... to sample scent of Autumn colors in rich and colorful abound....
November 23, 2025 at 4:06 PM
A leaf-strewn view of Fall's foliage art, displayed for passerby to see.... to sample scent of Autumn colors in rich and colorful abound....
In splash of colors, muted or bright, enter the light of creative energy, drawn from where such things reside. Images lurking in artist's mind, revealed with knowing dab, and daub....
November 23, 2025 at 4:02 PM
In splash of colors, muted or bright, enter the light of creative energy, drawn from where such things reside. Images lurking in artist's mind, revealed with knowing dab, and daub....
Where e're the wind in trees is heard, beneath a star-lit sky. Mind open to the night's embrace as coals in fire-pit glow.
November 23, 2025 at 3:59 PM
Where e're the wind in trees is heard, beneath a star-lit sky. Mind open to the night's embrace as coals in fire-pit glow.