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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 )
 
   
 
 

HOW CALLA LILIES ENFOLD

July 29th, 2014

HOW CALLA LILIES ENFOLD

Peace and pace of space
calla lilies slip up into curvaceousness
like the glossy satin of legs arranged
in Vogue Magazine

Peace calm and easy,
strong and firm like water in the
calla lilies’ succulent stems

What leads to an arrangement
like steps, planks ascend to sacred altar
of a contemplative nest,
calla lily abode

Regarding
like the quietude
of legs crossed on a bench
in an art museum, one’s own private art museum
perfumed breaths and petals damping,
private hush

So much can function
as a calla lily does

~ Lady


 

Fifty-third Calypso

July 28th, 2014

We’re heading down to the Watershed Stewardship Center in West Creek Reservation Metropark to eat a sunrise breakfast on top of their grass roof. Looking forward to it even though the sky is rain-clouded because it will still be a great way to start our day.

Lady mentioned it’s been 6 days since I’ve posted my “daily” blog, so here’s my new masterpiece.

Anger Management

Rain and dark and chill in heat.
Cuppa coffee and a toke the coming day to greet.
Rinse gaily, add some salt, and repeat, repeat, repeat.

- Smith, 7.28.2014

And a Kurt Vonnegut masterwork from 1963.

Fifty-third Calypso
from “The Books of Bokonon”

Oh, a sleeping drunkard
Up in Central Park,
And a lion hunter
In the jungle dark,
And a Chinese dentist,
And a British queen –
All fit together
In the same machine.
Nice, nice, very nice;
Nice, nice, very nice;
Nice, nice, very nice –
So many different people
In the same device.

– from chapter 2 of Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut, 1963

Don’t spill the Ice-9.


 

sticky wicket mercy

July 22nd, 2014

Sopping wet from sweat from bicycling 61 blocks on an errand of mercy, then back again.

Months ago Lady with her ever kind and giving Ladyheart gave a lift to someone less fortunate. Later that night she and I took over some food to him at his apartment and gave him and his urine soaked trousers a ride to the free church dinner.

Lady called Meals On Wheels to see if they could feed him and they said have him call so we went back and loaned him her fone but the gentleman in need got feisty with all the questions and when they asked if he had trouble getting around, he snapped “I get around fine. I use a cane but it’s a fashion statement.” Since Meals On Wheels is for those having trouble ambulating, they turned him down. The man definitely has trouble getting around and basically cut off his nose to spite their authoritarian face.

Friday I recorded a tune with Peter and forgot to turn my fone back on afterward. Friday night I get a voice message saying he’d like to talk to us. Go over Saturday but he’s not there so Lady leaves her jar of fresh canned blueberry jam and a bag of food in his door.

Lady gets a couple more voice mails asking if she’d taxi him someplace.

This morning I find another voice message from last night, call him back and get “Sorry, voice mail box is full, go away.” Get another voice mail from him from another number and call back and get a third party who is not exactly nice, doesn’t seem to understand what I say, and hangs up.

Get curious why I’m not hearing my fone ring and discover my fone’s still off, so since Lady’s at work with the car and I know what it’s like to be in trouble and need a hand, I bicycle 61 blocks in the hot sun.

We talk. He doesn’t remember me because I’m not with Lady. Ask him why he called and he said he’s out of money and he thinks if he can get hold of Steve & Kathy, they’ll lend him some. I say “I’m the Steve of Steve and Kathy.” He hadn’t recognized me because I’m not with Lady.

I explain we are on limited income and can’t be his patron. He says he gets $1,000 a month from disability (he’s 83) and his rent is only $230. I ask, “If you get that much, why are you in trouble every month?” “I donno, I do stupid things,” he replies. He doesn’t drink alcohol or do drugs, so I don’t know what’s going on.

I tell him he cannot call us to ask for money or rides, and he says it’s good to know that. He’s quite a nice old man, I like him, but I can’t even afford to buy a little grass for myself so certainly can’t afford to raise him – besides, he’s 15 years older than I am.

I explain to him how he messed up on the Meals On Wheels because he insisted he had no trouble getting around. He says he meant he can get around the block he lives on, but not to the church serving free food. So we agreed that if Lady will call Meals On Wheels back and try to explain he was confused when he answered and ask if he can interview again, he’ll give less prideful answers. She says she’ll call them again, so we’ll see.

Then I gave him $7 and bicycled back in the heat.

Moral of story? Be careful to whom you give your fone#, and be aware that helping others sometimes is like trying to rescue flies willfully stuck to flypaper – you might get stuck yourself cuz it’s all one great sticky wicket.

Still, is better to try to help than harden one’s heart . . . otherwise you end up like Bland Paul or Mutt Romney or Ted Cruel, which is NOT a pretty picture.

(Took these two fotos on my bicycle way back home today . . . on the same car)


 

DREAMING

July 22nd, 2014

DREAMING

She’s under starlight on a park bench
Lincoln park in Cleveland

Head down in her chest, she dreams
a magic hour, dreams

She wakes a magic hour world

Queen Maab on a park bench

Dream blinking from her eyelashes
meets dream under starlight

Fairies’ve laid a jam and butter sandwich
on a blanket by her side

Milk and honey
sweet cold water
fruit and nuts

A bite like a kiss into white bread
delicious provisions and memories
of her childhood

Holy feral night in her little church
in the park under the stars

Moon her sun

She picks her lyre
up out of her bag lady disguise bags

She plucks and wakes up sparrows
who adjust in roosts with nips
and muffled chirps for hours
waiting for daybreak

When lucid light of suntime comes
she visits Civilization
for coffee

~ Lady


 

my 2nd singing (in public)

July 21st, 2014

Mad Sing You II musicpoetry Fest – foto by Yogi Jen

Yesterday was special for me performance-wise. The night before, Lady and I decided she’d join me singing a couple verses of my reggae song and play a bit of her angklung as well, an instrument whose Indonesian tones fit reggae perfectly. When we told Shawn Mishak just before our set (he’s the leader of the group Kid Tested, and the music portion of yesterday’s set), he said fine, maybe she would like to play his new metal pan of amplified push pins as well, it was something he’d been thinking of trying for awhile.

Started off with me shouting out a talking blues over Shawn’s avant garde guitar improvisations and Lady’s dropping push pins onto metal, then swishing them around. The second song was to be reggae with Lady singing the first verse, then ending with a verse she’d ad-libbed earlier, but instead of reggae, she went all Kim Gordon Sonic Youth on me and started spitting the lyrics out like bullets and hitting the angklung hard and dropping the push pins following Shawn’s gritty guitar, and I saw my lilting reggae blown away by punk bombers and gleefully went along with em. What a perfect set, totally unexpected, we all heard what we heard when we heard it for the first time, all my precepts tossed. Don’t know what we sounded like but it sure was fun, and perhaps my best reading to date.

Thanks to Yogi Jen for the fotos.






Mad Sing You II musicpoetry Fest – fotos by Yogi Jen




Mad Sing You II musicpoetry Fest 7.20.12014
Pat’s in the Flats
neon by Jeff Chiplis – fotosmith

 

 
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