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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 )
 
   
 
 

Both looked to mirror / neither saw the same

May 1st, 2016

spirit002

Spirit & Bone Begin

Spirit went to water
to wet her where today

Bone dry as ever
inside flesh did stay

Both looked to mirror
neither saw the same

Needed each the rigor
of the other’s game

– Smith, 5.1.2016

bone001


 

depends on verse and vector

April 30th, 2016

rueltyfree

Status Report 206

Good ain’t all good.
Bad ain’t all bad.
Sad’s sad unless you’re glad.
Could all be better.
Could all be worse.
Depends on verse and vector
view and valor
unless you’re cursed
or seeking hearse.

Float like a bee
sing like a butterfly

– Smith, 4.30.2016

ridinglight


 

Glow Go Mo-Fo

April 29th, 2016

aintinner

My sound card’s still dead, and I’m astonished how lessened the internet experience is without sound – no watching news videos, no listening to music, no meditation bell dinging every 15 minutes, no dipping into the endless treasure trove of dead Prince bits people are sharing.

NightBallet Press is putting out a chapbook of poetry honoring Prince. My first thought was no way could I catch my appreciation of him in a poem, especially since I don’t do celebrity death poems — although I do have one celebrating Richard Nixon’s death, and a second honoring Johnny Cash’s career – but in the bathroom this popped into my brain.

Glow Go Mo-Fo

My computer sound card died
the day Prince did
so I could sit in silence
and respect his sound.

That sexy mo-fo
could cream a kiss
blender bliss
excite this this
speed slo-mo
slow the go
and re-gender is.

– Smith, 4.29.2016

perishable2


 

there was Spirit, there was Bone

April 28th, 2016

spirit

Lady’s poem Sun Dance was the Cuyahoga County Public Library’s poem-of-the-day for Tuesday April 26 – http://www.cuyahogalibrary.org/Services/William-N-Skirball-Writers-Center/Read-Write-30-Days-of-Poetry/30-Days-of-Poetry/April-2016/SUN-DANCE.aspx.

Her poem first appeared in “Oct Tongue -1″ published by Crisis Chronicles Press in 2014 (a collaborative book featuring 31 poems each by Mary E. Weems, John Swain, Steven Smith, Kathy Smith, Shelley Chernin, Steve Brightman and John Burroughs. 300+ pages, perfect bound, 6×9” – http://ccpress.blogspot.com/2014/07/055.html. Cover foto by Smith).

Spirit Bone

Before the time of people
there was Spirit, there was Bone
each roamed alone

Light and night they went their way
Spirit air
Bone firmer where

Bone climbed to mountain top
reached for sun
found it could not be done

Spirit flew through valley low
musk of earth to feel
on non-existent heel

So Spirit wedded self to Bone
bore Flesh in pain
for greater span

Now Bone and Spirit walk in Flesh
people air and land
grain the am

– Smith, 4.28.2016

bonecold


 

Dr Smith’s duct-tape wrap

April 27th, 2016

ladystungLady’s duct-taped stung left hand after Dr Smith’s visit

Lady got stung Monday as we picked up our bees from Queenright Colony. With hundreds of 3-pound boxes of bees shipped from California stacked about, thousands of bees were loose and one landed on Lady’s shawl unbeknownst to her. She accidentally brushed it with her hand. and now it’s swollen and itchy because we had no Benadryl to take to soften the symptoms.

The worst part is the itchiness. When scratched, it just becomes worse, so you scratch more and itch more and scratch more and . . .

Last night we covered her hand in a baking soda paste, wrapped gauze around it, then wrapped her hand in duct tape so she couldn’t get at it, and this morning she’s better.

I’ve found the day of the sting is nothing, 2nd day is miserable, 3rd day an itchy swelly hell, 4th day you begin to mend.

We were each stung on seven occasions last year.

Status Report 205

I

Sometimes I reach for my grass in the dark
and cannot feel any in my round tray
so set its three pipes, ashtray,
toothpick and lighter aside
angle tray 45 degrees
tap thrice firmly
and scrape down loose scraps with my calling card
knowing a pipe’s worth of weed will appear,
and it does.

Such is the faith of experience.

II

The daze of the weed:
Monweed, Tuesweed, Wednesweed,
Thursweed, Friweed, Saturweed, Sunweed…
these are the only days I toke.

– Smith, 4.27.2016

drsmith


 

 
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