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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 )
 
   
 
 

cold air crisp, clean, alive

September 25th, 2016

blacktrack

Autumn Equinox

The earth turns
the sky slants
the sun recedes
cold comes
the cycle of recycle proceeds
as old dies into new
air conditioners are turned off
fans stored away
sweaters put on
day lessens
night exceeds
six months of spring summer fall
become six month winter
trees shed leaves to scratch the sky
mind’s mood broods on warmth
skin disappears
breath billows
the cold air crisp, clean, alive
fallen leaves crackle
as night eats day
to this music of migration

– Smith, 9.24.2016

autumnequinox


 

hangover hell

September 23rd, 2016

 

wine

Empty Bottle Blues

Wife wine bottle sick
yesterday’s happy tossed in toilet

Two glasses does her in
and she did four or five or more

Wine bought for guest
who didn’t drink

She goes overboard
once every ten years

Both pain of birth and hangover hell
fade in time

Otherwise no night toilet worship
and no babies born

– Smith, 9.23.2016

inkblot


 

shit sandwich

September 22nd, 2016

shardglass

Shit Sandwich

Told to always see the bright side
I’m looking around
this pile of shit I’m under
thinking it’s heavy
and moist
and smelly
lovely for plants
lousy for human
but there is one bright spot
the shit on top is thinner
dryer, lighter
doesn’t weigh
or smell
as much

– Smith, 9.22.2016

starglass


 

mist of Sisyphus

September 21st, 2016

kitchensink

Mist of Sisyphus

Life weighs life’s way
so gotta learn a few tricks
like keeping our thumbs off the scale

It’s a convoluted weave of wove
this these and those
with inner rules undisclosed

There ain’t no moral sales
we gotta pick up our own sticks
keep play in pay

I’m more less is more
but more usually runs store
so guess I don’t know the score

Each morning I rise to play
new day and rush to its thick
trying to heal ail

But always trip my own step
place wrong bet
and yet

Get up again to set next day’s sail
stumbling through my thick
mismumbled say

Like sun I rise
through dark of lies
to work these weary whys

– Smith, 9.21.2016

congregation


 

womandala

September 20th, 2016

blueeyedshesquash

Conversation with Wife 28

“I’m going to make some pasta.”
That’s so old fashioned,
Why not make some presenta, or futura?

When you relieve your water, it’s urine,
when I do it it’s myine.

“Jupiter’s south pole looks like a mandala,
I want it on a t-shirt.”
Well, since it looks like a painted breast
I’d call it a womandala
and you don’t need a t-shirt, just go topless.

What’s this pneumonia everyone has?
oldmonia was good enough in my day.

“Why do you go on like this?”
I was a mouth man in Word War One
we had word rationing back then
could only use two verbs and one gerund a day.

– Smith, 9.20.2016

bottom spaghetti squash face by Lady K,. top face by Smith

blueeyedhesquash


 

1 new song, 2 new art pieces

September 19th, 2016

eberhardtsmith

Recorded new song with Billy Clarksville – my move into lounge lizard singing (think my vocal must have at least a 2 or 3 note range on this one). . . Billy Clarksville music, Smith word&voice

Samba Song

I do my samba dance in song / fumble feet in sweet retreat
Tangle-tongued I try to slog / slow and awkward beneath her feet
Look up her dress at fresh abound / hear Ray Charles’ Mess Around
Inside my head where I always run / look for ways to sway fun bun

She keeps it hidden in the dark / yet still I feel her sensual quark
It waits for touch of magic rub / but who and when, aye there’s the nub
She twirls on air above the beat / in between melody’s line
Shakes her hips in rising heat / tapping toes in tempting time

She belongs to spheres above / for she’s my long time love
She fits my me like we’re a prime / completes my ending rhyme
Inside her dress flesh abounds / pulsing sweet in cotton surround
she swirls the air above the beat / shakes her hips to raise the heat

Dance the samba dance tonight . . . Dance in samba’s sweet delight
Dance my samba all the day . . . Dancing samba watch me sway

– Smith, 9.15.2016

Two new pieces, collaborations with poet/artist Kevin Eberhardt . . . both pieces 23″ x 19″.

Red one = The Future Is Closer Than It Appears, blue one = Kind Of Blue.

steampunkplantkindofblue00kindofblue01futureappearskindofblue04futureappears3kindofblue03futureappears6kindofblue05


 

status report 235

September 18th, 2016

nightlight

Status Report 235

Weary cynic me
wakes with rested hopeful me
and both get out of bed
and start to fight

Wife’s singing bowl
struck then rubbed
rings hope

News sez nope

I carry both to day
bed

– Smith, 9.18.2016

kindofblue00


 

day drip

September 17th, 2016

riverrun

Day Drip

The Tower of Babel
6 miles and more runs its hideous shadow

That’s why there’s
babble tongue in river rush
silence in day fade

Why water walkers double in reflection

This wind in trees
sounds like river running
rain falling

There’s purr, there’s child laugh
there’s water run and train moan

This water falls from the river
liquid running
licking lips, laps, lumbars, Lotharios

So easy to sleep when it rains

– Smith, 9.17.2016

riverran


 

burned out, beat up, and broke

September 15th, 2016

rainbowroom

Burned Out, Beat Up, and Broke

Sweating in the humid heat
air conditioner off
trying to save a penny

Sitting alone, unstoned
wife all work low pay
no way to pitch a penny

Reading through broken glasses
wearing worn-out shoes
saving couple pennies

Keep cavities extra month
put off neck operation
keep a few more cents

Drinking less coffee
without any cookies
save a dollar

Thinking gravy while eating gruel
ignoring good scents
makes cents

It’s not all bad
this going in cycles
cuz brass ring’ll come round again

Then we can laugh
how little the penny
bought any

– Smith, 9.15.2016

(got the title from Lady K)

jollysmiths


 

don’t baby the bathwater

September 14th, 2016

babychanging

Don’t Baby the Bath Water

A rose grows
in foul smelling muck
yet nose knows both

Light gleams
off some nasty junk
and sparks the mind

Before a winter fire
back ass cold
but front right fine

Dripping summer sweat
degrading your set
while standing in lilac’s soft scent

Take the best
and pay down the rest
until you learn to jettison test

– Smith, 9.14.2016

skygrid


 

 
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