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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 ‘Family’ Category

Be excellent to each other

Saturday, May 18th, 2013

Lately I keep thinking about the movie “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.” In the movie, they find out that in the future they are worshiped and the whole of future society is based on them. The motto of the society is “be excellent to each other.”

I love 80s expressions like “excellent” and “awesome.” I love thinking about the hearty innocence and doggie gusto of Keanu Reeves. Yeah, he’s kind of bland, but he’s still *excellent.*

I am on a quest. My quest is to be as excellent as I can be in all the little nooks and crannies of the Thomas’s english muffin of my life, the big, most excellent, vegan-butter-and-raw-honey-whole-wheat-toasted english muffin of my life, the english muffin of my life that is delectable yet leaves one wanting more life to live!

So for the past two years I’ve been beating myself over the head with activist efforts without letting myself have the teensiest toe-dip in the actual tangible parts of what it is I would affect positively with my activism.

That’s changed recently. I am working on tangible, immediate results in addition to abstract work.

There are two things we’re picking up: volunteering at the APL doing dog-walking and working on protecting the watershed. So rather than only sitting and talking, Smith and I are out there doing fun stuff and getting exercise and being with each other, helping save the world and being and feeling excellent.

Volunteering at the APL is such a joy–to be with the dogs in the field, being so happy, witnessing happiness. Their walks of temporary freedom also temporary respite for me. It is so nice for the dogs to have the walks–they are treated well and they get out quite a bit, but even so the majority of their time is in the little cages.

I have noticed, though, that some of the dogs who are more shy or who have some physical problems (like Dozer, a sweet, blind dog) have been there for probably quite some time. One dog doesn’t like a leash, so I don’t think she gets to go out very much at all unless someone really pushes her. I’ve been working on a relationship with her and have just sat in her cage to work on keeping her social but she won’t even let me pet her yet.

It makes me think that when I adopt a dog, if that happens in the future, I will adopt one that is shy or has some kind of physical issue, because it will help prevent animals with these problems from having to stay too long cooped up.

This morning we’re going for orientation on the new watershed volunteer gig. This is kind of neat because it’s a new project for the Cleveland Metroparks, a new watershed program in Parma. The more I read the more I read about new programs for reclaiming and restoring the health of land, and I am so enthusiastic about being a part of this, putting my hands into the loam of it, seeing stuff grow and be protected and secure.

~ Lady

 

Out at the in-laws #3

Monday, May 13th, 2013

flow surfing – foto Smith

Out at the In-laws 3

Old piano rumbles
forgotten fingers stumble
fumble for the flow
light licks flick leaf wind trees
kitchen voices two room silence
shadow spackles window
sun slats wall
melody off
low
slow
unfamiliar film noir edge
until finally “Für Elise”
Beethoven’s beauty
slides like soundtrack
to foreign flick
as I look about for my script
camera, director
sure I’m in a set piece
peace by piece imparting
pardoning my probe

— Smith, 5.12.2013


Piano Lady – foto Smith

 

WEREWOLVES AND THE DALAI LAMA

Thursday, April 18th, 2013

Adding structure and convention
to my day to enforce
ideals and happiness

Dalai Lama says “bar the door”
to practices that cause one
to feel ill,
make it such that it is not
easily possible to get
caught up in them

I am not a werewolf
but I love them

Men who would be wolfen
scraggly bearded bears
of men

Honey and bread
on the table

Butter on the knife

Crumbs on the floor

The tending of yogurt

Cheesecloth

Fruit in a bowl

These men, their stews &
hermitude

Monks

Barring the door to the
outside world
lest the outside in them
come raging through to meet
the outside out there
knashing of teeth
clashing of bones

In ancient times,
werewolves
sucking the marrow
from sacrificed
virgins

Marrow me,
marry me

Marry me
fill me up
fill up my marrow

am mirror

am wife

~ Lady

 

Good Sirens

Friday, April 5th, 2013

Skin
Skin is the first thing I think of
when I think of you
your warmth
smoothness
the hearth of cuddle
wrapping my skin around yours
my arms along yours
the big bird bones of our hands
knuckles gently bent around
how calm and warm and smooth it is
and then suddenly
how short–you’re up like that
there are ten minutes of this or so
and then you’re up like that
making coffee

Oh that we would have the luxury
of feeling able to settle into
each other for a whole amniotic morning
a whole one

Hours without time ticking down
to some task

Just in the flow
in the womb flow
Mandy walking on us
walking on top of the blanket
braver when we’re inert
or meowing from the other room
now and then

Birds becoming more persistent
in song and then
less persistent
introspective
meandering with my thoughts
meandering

Even a siren can sound
comforting
especially in the morning
a siren like business being done
somehow elsewhere
juxtaposed
with us relaxed
in the here & now

A siren like rain happening perhaps
the extras on the scene outside our door
should we choose to get up

The siren an anti-siren
saying don’t come out there, it’s other stuff
going on out there, just soundtrack stuff
beyond
the intimate cell of your domicile

Siren, such a weird word
heralding some sad stuff
but also some happy stuff
and poetically mostly happy stuff
in this spool at least

There’s the siren song of now
that siren song of the womb room
that siren song of Mandy plodding on carpet
her feet making oddly heavy sounds
though again she is light like
the birds
our hands are like
the birds
the birds are like
the birds
and sirens
and the sirens are like and unlike
sirens

~ L

 

I am not a robot.

Monday, March 25th, 2013

handface

I am not a robot.

“How do I know?”

I’m gooshy.

“They program robots to be gooshy now.”

I’m complicated.

“They program robots to be complicated, too.”

I have a complicated personality.

“They do that, too.”

I bleed.

“Robots can bleed, too.”

My thighs look like chicken.

“They can very cleverly do that, now, too.”

~ Smith & Lady

 

 
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