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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 )
 
   
 
 

3 poems, 2 fotos, no song

January 4th, 2018

Slipknot

Meet me in the meat lane
I’ll be lambing up the chops

trying to chase the safe
and not the not

laminating lamentations
crying up the crop

slipping slide relations
in cut of guardian knot

never wanted to fuck my mother
didn’t want daddy dead

actually loved my younger brother
before he blew off his head

they’re all gone and yet remain
in my side of am

none of this of course germaine
to jiggle jelly jam

– Smith, 1.4.2018

~

To Be Continued…

You can befuddle a dog
by throwing a stick

You can confuse a cat
by dangling a string

And you can distract people
by mentioning money

– Smith, 1.3.2018

My poem Bad Bush George (for the CheneyBush Beast) is up at WineDrunk SideWalk: https://winedrunksidewalk.blogspot.com/2018/01/day-three-hundred-and-fifty.html


 

3 for the road

January 1st, 2018

~

Triage

They say
save those who weep
and I reply yes

and no…

do save those who weep for others,
but let the selfweeps go.

– Smith, 12.29.2017

~

No One Is An Island

I land.
I sea.
I air.
I in-between.

– 12.31.2017

~

New Year Day One

Same earth, same sun,
same day night dance renamed
with new number lugging
old need for rent
old aches
pains
joy
new wrapped in old game
so Happy Same Thing With New Name
carrying mold debts
old wepts
regrets
steps
and dead pets

We are what we are,
what we carry on

– Smith, 1.1.2018


 

mapping mobius

December 28th, 2017

Mapping Mobius

The acute angles
aren’t as attractive as they once were

Wife and I rise before dawn
to head start wend

Pain persists
but as they say, that’s life

We sit in dark and cold with cat
trying to remap wen

At least the coffee works,
first sip hot soothes old cold

We know now and new and soon
bring busted bits of when

Was is part of is,
now partitions next

We step in steps stepped before
on track unseen

Time inlaws to tomb,
and always wins

Mobius we go up and down
round around again

– Smith, 12.28.2017


 

2 leftover tidbits, 1 new tidbyte

December 27th, 2017


“Mingus Our Magic,” 4.5″ x 5″ x 1.5″
for Lady K., 12.24.2017

Piece in the fotos titled for poem I wrote Lady in our 10th week of relationship. I turned her onto Mingus, Yoko Ono, and Was (Not Was), and she turned me onto Gorillaz.

~

Match

Mingus our magic
We mingle our meld both mode
And modality

– Smith, 11.21.2005

~

My December feature on Medusa’s Kitchen returns me to form – October and November were uneven, perhaps mindflux from shoulder surgery.

http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2017/12/just-cuz-mirrors-moments.html

~

2 leftover tidbits, 1 new tidbyte:

~

Philosophy 168

We yearn for oneness
but since the Big Bang
we’re someness
underneath a box flap
pulling at the strings

– Smith, 12.22.2017

~

The Flu

One toilet
Two people
Four orifices

– Smith, 12.12.2017

~

Status Report 262

Cold and blow outside
but anti-inflammatory pills gone days ago
so I drive 8 blocks to hospital pharmacy

Leave ear warmer and scarf
cuz parking’s 2 minutes from door

But parking gate’s broken
won’t raise me in,
I’m waved away

I know this game,
Reality and I play all the time,
the let’s-mess-with-him
and see if he’s laugh or curse

Staying calm
I say Buddhist chant
bought 51 years ago in San Francisco for $6

Nam myoho renge kyo
right word, right thought, right action, right path

Drive halfway home to free street parking,
walk back through ice and howl and blow of cold

Get 90 1-a-day pills 8 cents each

Start back
staying inside long as I can
down deserted corridors of weekend hospital
the SLAP SLAP SLAP reminding me
my right sole is loose

(perhaps going to church 60 years ago
didn’t take as well as it might).

Check sole and see coat zipper undone
I re-zip it and the lower half unzips again
jamming.

Pull coat over head,
force zipper unzip,
zip and watch unzip again

Snap snaps,
top 3 close,
bottom 2 broke
coat flops open catching cold

Hunched against biting wind
I scurry through storm
chanting and laughing

Reality’s joke,
but punchline’s mine

– Smith, 12.27.2017


 

for MandyCat 2002-16

December 21st, 2017


Mandy

Death by Credit Card

Her body old,
her weight gone,
frame down to bone and fur
her love for us still bright,
she was done,
had had it,
cancer,
pain.

She rubbed unsteady against my ankles,
looked up
and howled piteously for release.

I felt shame
because I hadn’t loved her enough
to kill her yesterday.

Next day we lay her on vet’s table
on a warm blanket,
pet her awhile,
and talked.

I knealt
and we locked eyes,
the tip of my finger
between the pads of her paw
as she held me.

When the drug hit
I saw no fear,
she just looked up and away
in brief startle,
and was gone.

Such a small creature
for so immense an impact,
blackhole of loss.

First time I’ve paid to have love killed
and we had to put it on credit.

(for MandyCat 2002-16)

– Smith, 12.21.2017





 

sacred lies whispered within

December 19th, 2017


detail of Lady’s new sculpture

Status Report 261

So many people in the flow
so few in the know

they no yes
they no good
they no hope

they no know in slow slide round bend
where now becomes then

laying low lie
so story still floats
for eyes scarred by truth

sacred lies whispered within
to keep from killing ourselves, family, friends

– Smith, 12.19.2017


 

heartshadow

December 16th, 2017

Sisyphus in the Land of Sorrow

No longer waiting for my cream rise to top
nor my rock to not unroll
cuz that boat will never sail
in fact wasn’t even made
and its flag don’t fly
its tank is empty
its tires flat
and engine froze
no happy after fame and fortune
cuz unhappy race is base of game
no matter which rung you on
unless you let go
voluntarily
for real
and fuck fame
fuck fortune
live life
hug wife
pet cat
and of course
sip the coffee and toke the smoke
to set the yet for rising sun

– Smith, 12.16.2017

WINEDRUNK SIDEWALK: SHIPWRECKED IN TRUMPLAND
FIGHTING THE POWER SINCE JANUARY 20, 2017

Have another poem on Winedrunk Sidewalk — https://winedrunksidewalk.blogspot.com/2017/12/day-three-hundred-and-thirty.html.

Editor Publisher John Grochalski is publishing a different poet’s protest post every day Trump is in office


 

we yearn for soft relief of oftness

December 13th, 2017

Creatures from the Deep

We’re creatures from the deep
trying to remember how to get back home.

Remember when sun was legend,
nothing more than whisper in the dark?

Down where sound was mute and muddied
and what little light absorbed by stone?

From there to here there rides a chasm
with no Charon to the other side.

Too much light in lostness,
no shadow span to spawn relief.

We yearn for soft relief of oftness
where the west moon eats.

We’re creatures from the deep
trying to remember how to get back home.

– Smith, 12.13.2017


 

creeps

December 10th, 2017

Rushin’ Hands and Roamin’ Fingers

Dustin Hoffman, Louiis C.K., Clarance Thomas,
Bill Cosby, Harvey Winestein, Brett Ratner,
Donald Trump, John Conyers, Mark Halperin,
Roy Moore, Bill O’Reilly, Robert Scoble,
Chris Savino, Lockhart Steele, Gavin Baker,
Terry Richardson, John Besh, James Toback,
Judge Alex Kozinski, Andy Signore,
Russell Simmons, Steven Seagal,
Geraldo Rivers, Bill Clinton, George H. W, Bush,
Roger Ailes, James Levine, Andrew Kreisberg,
Ben Afflick, Jeremy Piven, and Matt Lauer
walk into a bar,

so the women locked the doors behind them
and burned it down.

– Smith, 12.10.2017

Have a 5th or 6th poem on Winedrunk Sidewalk this year… wee bit of fairy tale taste to this one:
https://winedrunksidewalk.blogspot.com/2017/12/day-three-hundred-and-twenty-four.html


got my eyez on you


 

The sparrows make love on the sidewalk

December 10th, 2017

The magic window, our marvelous window, the filigree trees
and the brick apartment building across the street–
when I look when I’m left with a choice about time

I rush it, this big presence like a womb, big cavernous
sky…

The cavernous sky; it was a love affair with the sky

I was languid and intimate with it; It pressed up all around me, The Shape minus me,
if I and I. Or if not, then I in I.

My boundaries like a net, a sieve in a sea with no catch, doors and people,
just this sieve, that’s all, or a catch; a catch full of catch

The sparrows make love on the sidewalk
quick flutters of seed

So many Saturday moments

– Lady


 

 
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