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...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )

heart gone good, mind bone bad

January 16th, 2017



There’s the wall.
There’s the stone.
I see rock and hard place
but no exit.

There’s dark.
There’s darker.
We make the light,
raise own sun.

My light’s my wife
and the cat that owns us.
Heart gone good,
mind bone bad.

– Smith, 1.16.2017



bad bone groan

January 15th, 2017

Bluebeard Smith, foto by Lady K

Post-Op, Day 4

So strange
to be in pain
thankful it’s not more
not yet weary of the wait

I’m a man of bad bone
born from arthritic mother
to slowly crumble
head bone to neck bone
into older bone
chrome and cobalt shoulder
titanium hip

4 hour pain pills
wear off hour early
whisper me of truth

Night darkens the land
snow unshadows shadows
skin wraps pain

Bad bones groan to dust
tomorrow yesterday’s musk

– Smith, 1.15.2017

Room 837, Bed 1. MetroHealth six blocks from here. Alternate universe. The whistles and bell warnings, nurses laughing, the pain moaning all night long – compared to here, low lights, Christmas tree lights, we still have two lights of our five colored light lamp left. We get richer, buy three more light bulbs.

In about three weeks they will start rehab, and it’s going to be an interesting process because everything’s gone to shit past 18 months. I need total rework. Where do they start?

Once I’d bruised my fingertips, once the spinal cord bone burr bruised it, my fingertips went 10, 15% numb. And it might not go away. But it won’t get worse, which it would otherwise because it’s degenerative.

I got a good mom of bad bone.

I think my sister suffered from arthritis due to Mom, and her auto accidents, being hit by a car and all that.

But I do know about Cat. I know he had his face broken.

There was a bad deal. He was asleep, stoned, in a van. He was a passenger. And they hit something or something hit them and he went face first into the dashboard. Shattered his jaw.

So they wired him back together, wired his jaw shut. He drank sustenance through a straw, through a gap in the wire.

After they were all done and healing, discovered they’d fucked up. They had to re-break his face, and he went in knowing they were going to smash his jaw.

First time he was asleep, just happened. Second time he knew what was going to happen and when.

I’m tired of all these operations. But I think I have a right shoulder to go, eventually. It’s amazing they can fix us, like automobiles.

They can even go down to the local service station and get a valve job. Now that’ll ring your chamber.

pain pill person


posterior cervical fusion today

January 12th, 2017


Going in for surgery this morning – a posterior cervical fusion. buzzed my scalp and took down most the beard to meake it easier on them.

They open the back of my neck, remove the back of two neckbones, cut off a burr bruising my spinal cord, screw two chrome & carbon rods to my neck, smear it with bone dust from my hip, sew me back up, and put my neck in a hard collar so I don’t go biting myself.

They may also being removing something from the front of my neck. Been told two different scenarios, so don’t know.

Have to do this because my arthritic neckbones are grinding against each other, bruising my spinal cord, causing my balance to be off, and leaving my fingertips about 10% numb.

Low risk operation, with recovery difficulty somewhere between the nothing of the hip replacement and the brutality of the shoulder replacement.

I already set off metal detecters.



philosophy 128-135

January 11th, 2017

well of imagining

Philosophy 128

I figure a bunch of little nothings
add up to something.


Philosophy 129

People plop down
then build up
do things
poop a lot
eat the forest for the trees.


Philosophy 130

Whaddya mean OK?
It’s K L M N O, not O K.


Philosophy 131

New life
doesn’t replace old life
but does keep the game going.


Philosophy 132

Don’t hurt the hive,
care for the commons.


Philosophy 133

There are two times to write poems –
when the sun goes down,
and before it’s up.


Philosophy 134

Here’s to the ornamental grasses
the textures of the trees
the way of the wind
the weave of the rain
the day or the night mixed with each.


Philosophy 135

Life is a marathon
whose finish line keeps moving
down the road a piece
so you can’t win.

It’s like cutting onions for tear soup,
the recipe never ends.

– Smith, 1.11.2017

life dance


better clown than clone

January 10th, 2017

painting of Smith by Ken Motz

Self Portrait 2

Better clown than clone
better up than down

Worse with people than alone
prefer smile over frown


Self Portrait 3

Of the hour of the wolf
(3 to 5 am)
plus the hour of the ghosts
and the hour of the owl
(dawn and dusk)
I’m in dawn of owl

– Smith, 1.10.2017

painting of Smith by Ken Motz


sepia past oozes wet and warm

January 9th, 2017

detail of piece by Mother Dwarf Smith 1926-2005

Flow Chart

Sepia past
oozes wet and warm
through hand-colored present

Blacks turn grey
darks leak light
lets loss in again

Pain of birth
fades in time
with child’s growth

Remembered thens
infect now
in season’s intersect

Old wrong turns
map expectations
tint situational current

And so we let it all go
wait in slow grow
to know

– Smith, 1.9.2017



so here’s some candy and peeks of flesh and shiny buttons and shrieks at less

January 8th, 2017


Divine & Conquer

And now back to our program
of stuff that doesn’t matter
and wouldn’t if it did
but keeps you removed
from could and would and should
which never will
because no thought
of ought
so here’s some candy
and peeks of flesh
and shiny buttons
and shrieks at less
we’re all abnormal
but they’re far worse
so fear your neighbor
not the rich man’s curse

And now a word from our other:
eat the rich
they taste just like chicken
(because they are)

– Smith, 1.8.2017



backyard Buddhas

January 7th, 2017


Backyard Buddhas

Bunch of yogis on the floor
chanting chance to evermore
their legs locked in pretzels
ringing singing bowls for symbols

There’s money to be made
in seeking the serene
they’ll sunnify your shade
if you’ve got the green

Poor me I walk alone
try to fill my soul
kindness is the goal
with more goodness grown

But still I snarl and growl
snap and bite and maim
like wild wolf I howl
trying to escape your same

You claim want must be lost
desire quenched with blame
that difference is same
once choice is tossed from cost

So for better me
I must lose myself
let ego end its be
put my id on shelf

Once I lose these edges
I will flow with one
seems giving up my sum
must be my first of pledges

But both my dark and light
creates the spark of might
seasons sense of same
complicating aim

– Smith, 1.7.2017



philosophy 122-127

January 6th, 2017


Philosophy 122

Bread is life
and life is bred.


Philosophy 123

Need a poem for yesterday
to get me through today


Philosophy 124

Dick discharge
versus hearts large.


Philosophy 125

Life’s a waiting room
you sit and wait for others
for things
for yourself.


Philosophy 126

Learn to see dead frog and rust
and thus re-see yourself.


Philosophy 127

The beast must feast
until angel finagles a better angle.

– Smith, 1.6.2017



but worth it for wife and this cup of coffee

January 5th, 2017


Sisyphus Symphony

Go to bed weary
wake into wary

Rise to new dark
pre come of day

Two nore teeth bad
so pay people to hurt me

Same money-rock roll
up no-money hill

Wandering wear
in rounding rim of time

But worth it for wife
and this cup of coffee

– Smith, 1.5.2017



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