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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 ‘Lady’ Category

cat vac

Thursday, September 21st, 2017

We drove 3 hours south for two nights in a cottage in the woods and took our 4 year old velvet black cat Misha,,, it was her first long car ride and stay-away. She loved it.

Here is Lady’s description of our jaunt.

Lake Hope

We opened the door to unwrap the cabin with its better-than-the-pictures golden floors abutting wood trim abutting wood paneling rising to meet exposed rafters and beams. We unpacked the windows from their unexpectedly high quality horizontal blinds.
I opened all the doors to see what I could see, plurality of closets an invitation to a longer stay.

I quick took a lone journey in the car through curlicue roads to find logs on private property from a fit man named Bubba who had chickens and aspired to own goats and bees. “Bees and chickens get along,” I told him. I handed him a twenty and said, “Thank you, I appreciate it,” without even thinking about the words “I appreciate it” until after, a newly picked up mannerism of mine. Logs and spiders rolled in the folded down back of our trunk.

From the car I carried and spread our brown box of kitchen stuff on the table like some writing from the 70s. The kitchen was with what was deemed necessary plus a couple extras. For instance, a colander (necessary), a full set of four plates, bowls, cups, silverware. The luxury of a corkscrew for wine.

Thankful for a full kitchen, I made salad the first night. I made salad the second night, too. “Our salad was good,” I said. “I think the goat cheese, red onions and apples had synergy.”

“Original synergy?” He asked.

Our bedroom smelled deliciously of bleached blankets. The bed tall and soft. Dirt from the day on the smooth hardwood floor tasted by my toes. A large framed print of Malabar Farm.

Like what made memories for me when I was a sweaty mosquito-bitten kid, I wondered if we would have hard water, softened water or water that tastes like nothing – like a broom in which closet.

I waited for bed on the vinyl sofa in front of the fire, the flames like little sprites pounding Bubba’s logs with their hands. We could talk on the couch. I lay down with my legs over his, and his on the hassock. We could play cards and talk in the future, I decided.

A dog barked come twilight’s poignant stirring with other campers and their far off breathy exclamations. Blue turned the corner to deep blue against the filigree of the canopy, the blue only skies make. The cat traveled black through flickering projections of firelight. I waited until night was black on black, indiscernible.

A curtain fell into magic night. Unwillingly leaving wakefulness, I felt the lamp around the corner of satin steel finishes and clouded glass with pull chains for easy finding, modern, clean but timeless.

The blankets smelled deliciously of crisp bleach. The bed tall and soft. The bed against the window, inches away, which I left open for the crickets and the birds. I needed another blanket but I held the smooth skin of his back.

Oaks rained acorns in knocking ones or flurries that poured from the roof onto the cool dirt of the outside floor, its grass, twigs, ash and more acorns, some with caps on, some lost.

In the bathroom come showertime, things well done. Sturdy medicine mirror inset into the wall which when opened all inside satin metal shelving deep enough to hold rolls of toilet paper. Complimentary soap and fresh towels laid out for scrubbing. The only thing worn in the cabin the shower with assorted stains in which my heart celebrated that other people share the joy of this cabin. It furnished hot water, strong and plenty and savored.

Coffee quickened a speculation of ground that could be covered today, the lake seen, or horses ridden, a path walked short or long. I read and re-read the glossy state park pamphlet. But there were chairs and sofa in the main room for interior moments. Chairs in the kitchen and a small wooden table for drinking coffee silently. Chairs and adirondack chairs on the deck for mid-day hours. Chairs outside around back circling the fire pit if the day were to migrate to there.

A mild depression mid-day that we could not stay so long. I played hide and seek sitting behind the slats of the closet. Even I could not hear my breathing.

“Where’s my wifey?” He walked across the groan of floor, not knowing I was playing. I gave myself up when I heard him make to put shoes on.

The cat coiled on the bleach sheets by the cool bedroom screen. Later uncurled awake there, she watched past the window to crows playing in the pixelated green impressionist painting.

I’d light nag champa incense by the fire to thank the household god, the cabin god, the camp god. The god of time we make, a comfortable hollow suspended a few days from the river of aspiration.

Lady K, 9.19.2017





 

conversation with wife #36

Saturday, September 2nd, 2017

Conversation with Wife 36

Wilcox and I are talking
of the rotted undergrowth that’s Washington
when Lady lays back
says softly, sadly
“I try not to look at the floor of the sausage factory.”

– Smith, 9.2.2017


1926 American Radiator ad

 

Cleveland Cleavage

Friday, August 11th, 2017

Cleveland Cleavage

Fleshly crease nigh nipple to neck
filled with sweet and sweat and scent

Jiggle jam compressed along
eye line song I long to roam

Cleavage is an isn’t impression
one nothing created by two tensions

A front-fleshed crack
to remind of ass smack

My wife is my breast friend
front and back and either end

– Smith, 8.11.2017

 

conversation with wife #35

Tuesday, August 8th, 2017


my gal is red hot

Conversation with Wife 35

I’m going to bill the webbots to read me.
“What, charge them some electrons?”
Yeah, I’ll say gimme some valence!

“We need sugar, bread, milk.”
Wonder what the offspring of sugar bred milk
would look like?

“I’m addicted to caffeine.”
I’m addicted to cowffeine.
“It makes you MOOOOOve.”

“Paramour is such a strange word.”
I like the single mour rather than a pair a mours
a single lell rather than a pair a lells
a single mount rather than a pair a mounts
a single dice rather than a pair a dice.

How was your 3 mile run?
“I’m weak.”
I’m weekend.
“We’ll have to strengthen you.”

“Where’s my lipstick?”
In my pants?

“I really like Aldi’s.”
I only like some d’s….
small d’s are okay,
but I don’t trust the capital D’s.

Do you think canvas was invented in Kansas?
“No.”
Sure would take a lot to canvas a neighborhood.

“I love pirates.”
If a loan had 3.14% interest, it’d be a pirate.

“Wonder what the origin of the word meat is?”
Some cavemen, after he’d eaten his beastie
said, “Me ate.”

“Sounds like pneumonia.”
More like oldmonia, me being 71 and all.

“We’re quite a pair.”
I’m more apple.
“I’m glad you have a sense of humor.”
I have fifty cents of humor.

Thank you. We’ll be here all week.

– Smith, 8.8.2017


I ear you

 

something fed in the night

Monday, May 1st, 2017

http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2017/04/lady-k.html aka Medusa’s Kitchen put up 9 of my poems, 9 fotos, and 1 song of and for Lady K.

Kathy Kieth, publisher/editor, ended my feature last Friday with:

About today’s post, Steven says: “While I was recovering from neck surgery, my wife Kathy discovered she had a rare type of eye cancer. She started off with a 30-50% chance of survival if it had spread from the eye.

“They put her in the hospital, partially removed her eye, sewed a radioactive plaque to it, radiated her for three days, then took a biopsy sample. Doctor says there’s a 95-97% chance the tumor will shrink from the radiation, and the biopsy says there’s only a 2% chance of it spreading. Plus the CAT scan says it probably has NOT spread yet. So the prognosis is as good as it could possibly be under these circumstances.

“So, these are for Lady K: poems from 2005-2017 for and fotos of Lady K aka Kathy Smith— friend, companion, collaborator, wife.”

Thanks, Steven! And please give our best to Lady K.

—Medusa

Check out Medusa’s Kitchen — New post every day showcasing a plethora of poets and imagists for your perusal.

~

Re: Cycle

Yesterday on the ground
atop a large flat rock
the small featherless corpse of a baby bird.

Today it’s gone.

Something fed in the night.

– Smith, 5.1.2017

 

Lady K’s spring 2017 issue of The City

Saturday, April 15th, 2017

Lady K published her online seasonal poetry/art journal this morning minutes before we left for the MetroPark Canalway reading celebrating it.

Absolutely excellent issue featuring Laura Dumm, Robert Lee Haycock, Bree Zlee Bodnar, Michael Joseph Arcangelini, Tim Joyce, Marc Steven Mannheimer, Chris Cipriani, Russell Vidrick, John Swain, Christina M. Brooks, Tim Green, Maj Ragain, Heather Ann Schmidt, D.R. Wagner, Satya Robin, Jim Lang, Kevin Eberhardt, Lady K, and me.

The City Spring 2017 issue – see we for free here >

Spring 2017

CoXistence

A White-breasted Nuthatch
a Red-bellied Woodpecker
and an American Goldfinch
meet and eat at the suet
with nary a bomb in sight

though two male Cardinal reds
do fight flight
over yellowbrown female friend

– Smith, 4.15.2017


 

 

in the land of the one eye

Monday, April 10th, 2017


too bright the light

Life with Wife 5

Scrub tub
add epsom salts
fill with hot water
ease in
take a toke
lay back in hot wake
to soak away ache
and phone rings
wife saying
“Can you pick me up?”
“Now?”
“My eye hurts.”

Four weeks ago
doctors took her eye part way out
sewed on 21 radioactive pellets
put eye in
locked her down three days
while radiation bombarded tumor
popped eye back out
removed pellet plaque
put eye in again
sewed inner eyelid shut
and sent her home to hard since
her eye blurry from serious salve
pupil dilated due daily drops
eyeball swollen and bruised
burning from bright
tired of trauma
she works more to see less
amid multiple pains
shooting ache stab throb
burn itch pinch
and she is
weary

“Sure, I’ll pick you up”
because pain trumps pleasure
and love binds both

and baths can be refilled

– Smith, 4.10.2017

 

mushroom eyes on acid

Sunday, April 9th, 2017

Lady K came up with 5 pizza/peace/piece/Pete puns today.

All I want is pizza mind.

Give pizza chance.

How do you solve a jigsaw puzzle?
Pizza by pizza.

I like Ringo,
but I lik pizza best.

Take another pizza my heart.

~

Mushroom Eyes on Acid

Dark rises from dark
broods as slow rising light
becomes land and trees against sky
sliced and unsilenced by silhouette
of train on trestle
while a multitude of birds
sing up unseen sun
new spring dawn baring winter’s nip
beneath its ever old promise
of renew

– Smith, 4.9.2017

 

as if answers exist

Tuesday, March 21st, 2017

Status Report 253

Walking on egg shells
in quicksand
covering void
over nothing.

My companion faces equation
but I have no numbers
and cannot do the math.

Our quest lies in questions
that do not know answers.

As if answers exist.

I love
and am loved
yet may lose
though I’ve gained.

– Smith, 3.21.2017

 

Lady K eye tumor update as positive as possible

Monday, March 6th, 2017

Lady K had a cat scan today to see if her eye cancer had spread. It tends to spread to and from the liver and lungs.

Her liver is clean, and they found a couple small spots in her lungs which they say are probably benign and nothing to worry about, but which they will keep an eye on just in case – and if it is cancer, it’s early enough to stop it before it gets started.

So essentially this is as positive a prognosis as one could hope for, especially since her eye tumor is a rare type of cancer (perhaps 2.5 cases in a million) and is aggressive.

So Friday they are going to partially pop out her eyeball, sew a small curved radioactive bead containing 21 radioactive seeds to the rear left side of her left eye, pop her eyeball back in, sew the conjunctiva closed (the mucous membrane that covers the front of the eye and lines the inside of the eyelids) and keep her isolated in a hospital room for three nights, then remove the radioactive bead Monday morning and send her home.

At some point in the next three weeks, the stitches will dissolve and her eye will open again. She’ll wear an eye patch until then.

Doc says her prognosis for killing the tumor is 95-97%. Since there’s no known cancer elsewhere, her outlook is good, and they’ll keep monitoring her monthly for 6 months then yearly through five years to see if it springs up elsewhere.

It’s lousy to get cancer, but since she has it, this is as good an initial prognosis as possible.

This will make two cancer survivors in our family. We did lose a third family member to intestinal cancer – our cat Mandy.


future hope – Lady’s 7 month-old niece Liberty Lynn Green

 

 
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