...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
Thursday, February 23rd, 2017
Lady cut her hair pixie short yesterday, it had hung below her shoulders.
She did it to break the mental/emotional gloom brought on by discovering two days ago she had eye cancer, and that in 15 days the doctors are going to sew a radioactive pellet to her eyeball for three days to kill the tumor without mushing her mind.
Her online research found a 30-50% mortality rate over 10 years (much of that in the first year), so odds favor us 50-70%.
Her doctor said sewing a radioactive pellet to her eye for three days gets rid of the tumor 94% of the time. The 30-50% mortality rate comes from the cancer having spread to or from the eye, so they’re going to give her a cat scan to see if it’s anywhere else.
My being 27 years older, she’s always worried about outliving me, but now the shoe’s reversed.
She had long hair when we took up in 2005, but when we began traveling for 31 months, she kept cutting it a little shorter each time we got to a new country because long hair and living out of a backpack in foreign lands is a burden, and finally in southern France she cut it pixie short, which has always been my personal favorite of her endless permutations.
Speaking of endless permutations, check out this 70-foto montage of Lady’s looks from 1976-2007 >>> http://agentofchaos.com/lady06.html.
Status Report 251
No poem today
My brain is fried
Too much grim
Yet hope remains
It will go good
Roll rock up hill
Of endless could
– Smith, 2.23.2017
Lady K’s mugshots 1976-2007
Tuesday, February 21st, 2017
Lady K has a medium sized cancerous melanoma in her left eye. In 17 days, they’re going to sew a small radioactive pellet into her eye, keep her in the hospital for 3 days, then remove it. This could solve the problem.
Only two options with this cancer is radiation or removal of eye, and they recommended radiation, which is effective 94% of the time.
Since radiation can also harm the eye’s vision, there’s a 10-15% chance she could lose sight in that eye in the next 2-5 years, which means 85-90% chance she won’t.
They’ll do a biopsy to see how aggressive the cancer is. If it’s type 1 which only moves from eye to liver, they’ll monitor her liver every 6 months for awhile, and if it’s type 2, they’ll monitor her more aggressively.
This will make two cancer survivors in our two-human family. We lost our cat to cancer.
The world cannot pump this many corporate toxins into the air, food chain, and water and not mess up the bio fluxflow.
Sermon of the Mote
Fear lurks in the bushes
rustles mind’s maybe
robs eye’s line
Flower pluck song long
when draped in gray
and gauze of gaze
Loss of lens reduces focus
I soul lies in eye
– Smith, 2.21.2017
Monday, February 20th, 2017
Conversation with Wife 33
On possible cancer in her eye, she sez:
Well, this is going to be interesting.
I have a tumor in my eyeball!
If they have to treat my eye with enucleation,
I want a cat’s eye prosthesis!
What did the clavicle say to the breast bone?
Why did the eyeball laugh at her tumor?
Because she was in on the in-sight joke.
Q: “What’s a tumor?”
A: “A massive inconvenience.”
– Lady & Smith, 2.20.2017
Lady was told Friday she has a large mass in her left eye. Have a Cleveland Clinic appointment tomorrow with Dr Singh, whom we are told may be the world’s top doc for eye tumors.
Not enough data and too many possibilities to dwell on – some benign, some nasty – so must await more data.
Scary. Yet Lady K’s taking it well – on the surface at least what with her joking, but I can see the stress creeping into her. I’ve been there too many times and know how inner worry quietly alters outer perception.
Could be cancer, could be not, could be surgery, could be not, could be lost eye, could be not, but the dark side of the prognosis research is grim.
Whatever – we’ll deal with it. She’s my sweetie.
Here are the doctor’s serious sounding notes:
1. Large ciliary body mass OS:
Small area of bleeding into posterior chamber.
On gonio exam (after dilation) small area of bleed inferior temporally – mass appears to be invading anteriorly as well.
Concern for iris melanoma.
Discussed patient with ocular tumor fellow.
Critical changes in the same quadrant.
Small notch in lens in same quadrant as the mass – lens coloboma?
3. Vit heme:
Small not affecting vision.
A more-than-possible cause is her cell fone. A Swedish study I read 11 years ago in Croatia found a high correlation between cell fone use and head tumors over the previous 20 years in major cities. But the coup de grâce was the rural statistics – since users are farther from the towers, the transmitting power inside the fone is turned up to reach them, and the higher fone power caused greatly increased tumor growth versus the lower-powered city fones, which in turn saw more tumors than before cell fone use.
Her in the US they keep saying the cell fone tumor studies are inconclusive, there’s nothing to be concerned about, we need more studies – but that’s bullcrap… according to the studies, cell fones almost certainly cause tumors and nothing can be done about it because mobile fones have became an essential part of world commerce and we can’t go back. So once again corporations are killing customers for profit. Gotta love capitalism.
Saturday, February 11th, 2017
Poet artist musician curator Shawn Mishak wrote a bone recovery poem for my neckbone surgery.
Poem for dem Bones
(for Steven Smith)
Rebel poet, regarded lover
Teen pranks lead to vast inequities
Child boy sacrifices mother
Learns how to properly extract sliver
Art crime felonies
Scream under a cinder block
Cracks until two and no longer one
A physical mixture
Tall and stretched out like exotic bird
Flaps until broken
Get better; heal in the sunlight as the skin floats
As the cat whispers her purr in the lovely corner
Finding that warm spot
For the next careful climb
Drink of the savory vine
Mine the vein and never
Say that I told you so…]
– Shawn Mishak, 1.28.17
This Saturday, February 18, 2017, 3-5pm, Lady K’s hosting her 3rd Annual Open Memoir Reading at Mac’s Backs-Books On Coventry, 1820 Coventry Rd, Cleveland Heights, Ohio 44118.
This reading is in honor of her Grandfather who died in 2006… Lady is re-editing his memoir Learning to Swim which she published in 2012 – https://www.createspace.com/3945123
Heading for Worry War III
what with the orange virus
and small hands on large levers
in the White House
bullies bellow loud in the land
but I don’t worry
cuz edamame ain’t got no daddy
and Only the Lonely is ever so lovely
in the season of the song
so welcome on in from the dark
to our corner of the arc
and sit a spell
light is low
but warm and real
for flowing flux
depends on being kind
– Smith, 2.11.2017
Monday, January 23rd, 2017
Life with Wife 4
She dumps four cups worth of coffee
into the boiling water pan
to make two cups
We sit and sip, unmoving
doing the wild coffee dance
– Smith, 1.23.2017
Wednesday, January 4th, 2017
Conversation with Wife 32
“Why did the French man leave the beaten path?”
You gettin’ up?
Good, I’m taking your spot of heat in bed.
“You a thermofile?”
No, I’m more of a thermofolder.
My first pun of the day…
You’re putting sugar in your coffee
“Why not, it’s New Year’s day.”
But I offered sugar this morning
and you said no.
“I have my whims.”
“My whims, my whims, my whims.”
Is that why you’re called women?
Are your nail-polished toes going to show?
So they’re no show toes
I used to hunt noshotos in Japan
on the island
around the base of that big mountain
Rubbing the bristles on my cheek,
I tell Lady, you know, I’m part werewolf…
though not werewolf exactly-
more their distant cousins, the waswolves.
– Smith, 1.4.2017
Tuesday, December 27th, 2016
Lady K’s become the Cake Lady.
She made an antique book cake for Michael O’Brien’s bookstore closing a week ago.
And for Christmas she made an upside down sweet onion cornbread savory cake.
And same day (it took her three days of making fondant reindeer and magic mushrooms and Christmas trees, plus the white chocolate birch bark) she made a gingerbread cake (which included Guinness Stout as an ingredient) with whipping cream & mascarpone cheese icing, surrounded by white & dark chocolate birch bark topped by a scene of trees, magic mushrooms, and a reindeer of homemade fondant.
Then she made a fondant bull because she gives one family member a homemade bull each Christmas to inspire financial success in the coming year.
I’ll be putting up an agentofchaos page documenting all this in a few weeks, but here’s a taste of her Christmas baking.
Wednesday, December 21st, 2016
art book cake Lady made 4 Scriptoria’s last open mic
Lady’s wondering why I stopped blogging. Things just got a bit much … had a magic final reading at Michael O’Brien’s used book store Scriptoria in the basement of the 148 year old Zion Church in Tremont – it’s being turned into condos going for maybe half-a-million.
After the reading we got hit on the passenger side of the car, which entails getting estimates and repairs. Passenger door only opens a foot now so Lady crawls out my side when I drive.
Meanwhile we also need to get $300 for rear brakes, our dying then living now day by day MandyCat has us in an emotional Schrodinger’s box, plus the car tires and vet bills have meant no marijuana for months now, while I’m getting nervous about the doctors removing one vertebra from the front of my neck and bolting in two metal rods through the back in three weeks.
Then there’s Lady’s Christmas Eve birthday followed by Christmas followed by New Years, all of which thins the finances and depletes my inner social well.
Other stuff too, you know, basic life stuff, getting through the day where an accused child rapist and admitted sexual predator and thief is now going to become our Degenerate-in-Chief and the massive racism and sexism and bullying such voting reveals in way too many millions of what I formally thought were decent human beings but am obviously grievously wrong.
So I stopped posting. Have 25 new poems written, but felt no need to show them… think I’ll wait until I get out of the hospital with a hard collar around my neck and the metal rods in my neck which accessorize the metal rods in my shoulder and metal rod in my hip before I post the poems to give me something to do in between the pain pills.
But Lady’s asked me to post so here’s the blog starts I’ve let slide.
Conversation with Wife 31
“You’re my Sweetie, you know that?”
Well, they did call me the Calorie
back in my marzipan glaze
I’d ride to the troubles
and folks would shout
We’re saved, here comes the Calorie!
and they would cover me with cinnamon.
– Smith, 12.20.2016
Have a new nickname for MandyCat – going to call her Lazarus. Yesterday was essentially a deathwatch for me… I sat with her for 7 hours, talking to her, telling her to go or stay, whichever was best for her, and twice her breathing stopped, then started up again. After awhile I put the tip of my finger in between her paw pads – sometimes when I do that she squeezes my finger tip like we’re holding hands, but this time she swatted me, and I said whoa, this ain’t over yet. And this morning she’d eaten all her dry food during the night, which she hadn’t eaten in a week, and then demanded tilapia, so I gave her some with another steroid pill in it. She’s still frail and off-balance, but there’s a lot more of her here now. So, ever onward.
Had to do food shopping for our sick cat this morning. Roads covered with 10″ of snow, so I went just down the hill to Walmart, a place we try not to shop due to the damage they do to local businesses and the social service infrastructure (their salaries are so low, many of their employees are on food stamps).
As I headed for the exit, I found a worn $5 bill flat on the floor. Picked it up, with my first thought I’d turn it in. Looked around, no one around. Went looking for a manager. Couldn’t find one. Started thinking this is a lot of time and trouble to turn in a $5 that the original owner wasn’t going to get back anyway because they’d have no idea where they’d lost it.
Thought about leaving, but realized I wouldn’t feel good about myself, and eventually found a young manager, handed him the $5, said “I doubt the owner will ever get this back, but just in case, here.”
Came home, told my story to Lady, she said “You did right.”
“But, the owner isn’t going to get it back, so I just gave Walmart $5 more dollars they don’t deserve.”
“Yes, but you may have affected the manager, he might mention it for a ripple effect.”
“Well basically I did it to make myself feel good, bought myself some self respect with a found $5. Wonder what I would have done if it’d been a hundred dollar bill?”
“Then you would have DEFINITELY returned it because someone needed it and would have come looking.”
“Probably, but folk with $100 bills tend to have more money than they deserve, but you’re right, I couldn’t feel good inside keeping other folk’s money. I’d never make a good politician or CEO. Beside, for $5 returned, I can post this and make myself look good.”
As I headed down the stairs to feed the birds for a second time, since we feed them twice when it’s below 14 degrees, I thought of another possibility – I feel we exist in an aware Universe, no god or anything, just some overall awareness with a wicked sense of humor, and this all could have been nothing more than a pop quiz to see what I’d do.
There’s more but I’m less so done for now.
Except for this. I was sure I’d be rich and famous. Thought so for 50 years now. I’m 70. There’s a vague chance it could still happen, but not likely. But though I’ve not gained acclaim and financial success, I do have a wife who loves me whom I love – we’re each each others favorite person. And we have a magic cat that makes us three. And we’ve fine fine friends, and my in-laws are as good as they come, the poetry and art and fotos flow freely for both Lady and I, and Lady is quite good at what she does, which is design websites, so if I had a chance to trade what I have for money and acclaim, I wouldn’t. I’m rich in love and like, and I cherish that.
me & my 5-month old niece Liberty Lynn Green
Wednesday, December 14th, 2016
Kathy Kieth, the editor/publisher of Medusa’s Kitchen, published my Stations of the Lost (for Lenny Bruce) poem online Sunday. This is pretty amazing since it has something in it to offend almost everyone. I wrote it as a stand-up comic routine for Lenny Bruce, and I thing he would have liked it.
As Mae West said, “Those who are easily shocked should be shocked more often.”
This is my 15th appearance in Medusa’s Kitchen since October of last year when poet D.R. Wagner included my found Ferlinghetti poem at the end of his weekly feature. I am honored to have become a monthly member of their crew. My next feature will be Dec 23 with my anti-Christmas poem/song Ex Christmas.
Right Sock Wrong?
We are born in cave of shadow
washed in birthing pan
walk with shadow in search of sun
till washed again at end
How well are our ways wound?
If I put left sock on left foot first
instead of right sock on right foot
does it make a difference?
Or yesterday’s right on today’s left?
Does the moving shadow
of my belt buckle on the floor
portent play of day?
Do things change if I put my pants
on left or right leg first?
What about both legs at once?
I know kindness to others,
listening, caring, compassion, patience
sways day’s way.
But what of stretch or no stretch?
yawn or no yawn?
left or right side of bed arise?
Is there a right right
and a wrong right?
Of the mother thread of life
Clotho spins and sings of is
Lachesis measures in song of was
and Atropos cuts, sings will be
Do they care what sock I wear?
or right left of wrong?
– Smith, 12.14.2016
Lady and I woke at 3:20 this morning and lay there talking.
Told her in my dream I was a young 40’s Harrison Ford and was lying on top of a bed with my ex-girlfriend Melania (our next First Lady) who was her current age age. We were both fully clothed and it was not romantic. I was worried I wasn’t going to get the movie role I was trying out for, and she was helping me prepare. I asked her why she kept breaking up with me and she said because I was so insecure.
Then Lady told me her dream.
She was back in elementary school, drinking beer (Guinness Stout), but was an adult. In fact all her classmates were adults too. She was taking stuff from her purse and putting it in the supply cupboard – 20 packs of Post-It notes, cookies, some other stuff, and slices of roast beef.
“That must have been some purse.”
Friday, December 2nd, 2016
her third try at drawing Tsi-s-de-tsi
her first two attempts
Lady’s been writing an alternate Earth novel where a 4-foot female Cherokee mouse named Tsi-s-de-tsi is Captain of a large ocean sailing ship with a crew of 6-foot rats who have rescued a young human girl named Beatrice and an even younger human boy named Hill. It’s for both children and adults. She has 64 pages so far, and the writing is beautiful, the story interesting.
Here’s a taste of four recent pages.
I pronounce Tsi-s-de-tsi (the Cherokee word for mouse) as Siesta-sea, but the actual Cherokee pronunciation is something else. You’d have to check online for itthe correct pronunciation.
She reads each new section to me as it is written, and I am thoroughly enjoying it.