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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 )
 
   
 
 

Archive for the ‘Environment’ Category

rabbit biting snake tail

Friday, May 5th, 2017


Climate March 2017, Washington, D.C.

Tolls for Thee

Driving back roads to avoid tolls
I see a snake trying to escape
across the highway
from a rabbit biting its tail
and pulling it back into the dirt
for lunch

All roads are toll roads

– Smith, 5.5.2017

We drove to D.C. last Friday to march with 200,000 other folk in the 2017 Climate March. I got to meet more of Lady’s family and protest the kleptocrats in power.








Climate March 2017, Washington, D.C.

 

Lady Poem 7-29-2016

Friday, July 29th, 2016

A shearwater nests on the edge of a cliff
to fall in dream to flight in space
its cruciform wings skim tips of waves
and it follows the whales to feed on their wakes

~ Lady

 

June 5, 2016 Lady Poem

Sunday, June 5th, 2016

Indigenous spirits of the woods
this sacred land

A squirrel holding a parcel
black shadows between his
competent furry fingers
the creatureness of
his philtrum, the
cleft of his nose

A chipmunk like a minnow
stopped on the shallows on a log, in pause
from shivering slits of her nares
to the stripes of her quivering
tail tip

I can get the meaning if I really
want – how do I know I’ve
got it, though

~ Lady

 

May 29, 2016 Lady Poem

Sunday, May 29th, 2016

How unexpected a bird flapping down from the roof – decision and missive rendered. Thock thock thock thock thock. Cross between rubber and drum.

Bird chatter indicative of a quiescence when the traffic ebbs. Carousel cars turn toward then into rafts of away.

I lift my head up from the computer in a minute of liberty. The noise of my inner work alleviated by the novelty of noticing or not – of peering through and dreaming.

Husband brings the paper up from stairs of concrete reality. In luxury the pages spill on couch. I do not want to read the headlines, just ads and human interest stories. Better I launder what I have. Smell of soap, clean carpets, dishes, bath, bit at a time. Groom. Sweep – then palate refreshed for clean look

Hearing birds again – someone cooes an opening

~ Lady

 

Pollination

Monday, April 25th, 2016

Pollination

Petals’ smoother-than-leaf
plastic velvet house essential
color and oil

Nectaries gild anther and pistil,
ovary, stamen, style and sepal

Methyl benzoate
aerates an immediate halo
of a painted landing pad

Strong busy black legs cling
Pollen shakes on brushing wing

Done, a bee cleans herself on
petals’ protruding lips

From tail to tip
she packs the pollen on
the bootstraps of her backleg hair

And when it’s had enough
when it knows it can make its stuff
a flower’s musking stops

~ Lady

 

aggressive gas guzzling Labor Day jets gulp the sky

Monday, September 7th, 2015

cokegov

the Vietnam War was called the Coca-Cola War by some

Status Report 76

Aggressive gas guzzling Labor Day jets gulp the sky
killing our tax dollars for their propaganda . . .

Why do governments lie?

– Smith, 9.7.2015

downslide

the mouse that roared

 

the weird orange-eyed bee people

Monday, June 15th, 2015

yelloeyelady1

yelloeyelady2
my beekeeping Lady

Status Report 9

Strawberries are stiff and dry.
I prefer berries made out of berries.

I was an Old Testicle kind of guy,
believed in an eye for an eye,
until the whole world went blind.

Those without sin need cast their first atone.

There’s buried treasure
beneath her cotton white robe,
nipple on mountain seek.

Oh my! what orange eyes you have!
The better to squeeze you, my dear.

Rain comes, rain goes,
sometimes sun, sometimes haze,
the days are rearranged.

Wherever the buck stops, it damn sure ain’t here.

The daily wheel awoke
I walk to turn the spokes
pulling life I’m yoked.

Be aware the Ides of June, the Ides of May,
keep both Ides open.

– Smith, 6.15.2015

Was a bit trepidatious yesterday inspecting our beehive since last time they stung my hand and it swoll into a lobster claw for 3 days, but I went without protective gear anyway. It went fine until we were gathering everything to leave and I picked up a bit of burr comb we’d removed from the hive; there was a bee on it who didn’t like being squeezed and it stung the end of my thumb.

I took some Benadryl right away, then twice more before bed. No swelling yesterday, and this morning I wake with a swollen right thumb. But it’s not too bad. just big and tight and awkward because you use your thumb for everything from picking up your coffee cup to flicking a Bic to toke.

Learn and live so you can live and learn.

yelloeyesmith4

yelloeyesmith3

yelloeyesmith5
her beekeeping man

 

Ready – Lady Poem 6/11/2015

Thursday, June 11th, 2015

 

Whim steps to garden path
Growth loads jewelweed’s spring
Wood’s xylem shades us

~ Lady

 

 

1st sting new hive

Wednesday, June 3rd, 2015

1stbeesting1

1stbeesting2
my 1st bee sting from our hive

My right hand has ballooned up like a Michael Meyers fat suit.

I got my first sting from our beehive Monday on our 7th interaction with it. Weather was too cold to open the hive for inspection – 46 degrees when the bees prefer 55 – and I was too aggressive in cleaning out burr comb (that’s the wax honeycomb the bees build between frames or inappropriate places in the hive), and when I was done, one bee stung me.

It was so gentle I said “Did I just get stung?” and looked and sure enough there was the stinger with its venom sac still attached. I pulled it out and pretty much ignored it. They suggest you take benadryl after a sting, but this seemed so minor, I didn’t. That night I had trouble finding where I was stung and was thinking this is nothing.

Info says swelling and pain happens immediately, then subsides after a few hours, so I thought I was free and clear. Next morning I woke to a hugely swollen hand, not painful but super itchy, difficult to close into a fist, so I didn’t start swelling until 12-15 hours after the sting.

Now after two days of ballooning ever bigger, I’m waiting for the swelling to subside. I think it’s reached maximum size because it can’t get much bigger without exploding . . . I’ve no detail on my hand, no knuckles, no wrinkles, no veins, just bulging tight red itchy artificial looking balloon skin with a hardness beneath the main sting area.

I don’t wear any protective gear when inspecting the hive, just a white t-shirt, but if I’m stung again I’ll have to reconsider.

I’m a little sad losing my non-stung status after working with our beekeeper mentor for a year plus seven visits to our own hive, but I’m also proud to be carrying a sting from our own hive.

Interesting point about the burr comb I removed – my pa-in-law who’s an engineer noted the six-sided wax cells the bees construct have the front-side cells offset half a cell from the back-side cells . . . this makes their entire honeycomb structure much stronger (see foto below).

burrcomb
holding honey bee burr comb up to the light

 

BITS OF MOVING DUST

Saturday, May 30th, 2015

 

Ancestors
of part of an agrarian past
holding baskets of now
heirloom produce–
the tomato
and smiling forever

Or in tall, dignified finery
in an ancient hall, kind of slow
and lacking in color

Or in an exhale
let into relaxed
and painless air
sans worry

And there’s us
too often with our calculators
days locked inside brains

Or better sometimes, looking
and listening

All of it, living and past–

Connected
to everything on the backdrop
of the cosmos – deeper and deeper
starry mirror

Us
clumping together
bits of moving dust
in sentient host

~ Lady

 

 

 
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