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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 ‘life’ Category

Cat & Dog

Saturday, April 7th, 2018

Cat & Dog

Cat was on the feather
Showing me where the feather was, dear

“Did you catch a cat?”

Barely, like one of those quantum particles,
snapping my fingers,
hard to hold

Our cat knows
which one is the prey
in our current game

I saw a woman
play Three Card Monte with her dog
she’d put a dog treat under one of the cups
go swish, swish, swish, mix them up,
and the dog would point his nose at
the correct cup every time
and eat the treat

While this is impressive
it’s not quite as impressive as it looks
because she cheated;
she kept her right hand
on the cup with the treat,
never took it off,
went swish swish swish swish swish and
always kept her hand on the treat cup

The dog just watched it go
back and forth
and never left the right hand

When she stopped
he would touch his nose to it;
he would get the treat

Instead of a fireplace
we low-class have a water tank
there’s usually 10 seconds
between the bubble burps in the aquarium filter
but sometimes it’s 11 or 12

I am a wee odd.

For example, I count how long it takes you
from locking the door
to becoming visible in the parking lot

It used to be 31 seconds

“You mean you count?”

Yes, 1001, 1002, 1003

It used to take you 31 seconds to get out
and then 41 seconds because you were cold and you were carrying more stuff
and recently it was 51 seconds
and I started thinking, ‘this is getting
too long but you’ll probably stop at
the mail box,’ and I saw you and you had
a package in your hand.

If it had been more than 60 seconds,
I would have come down and checked

“Wow, that’s very nice”

I work what grid I can, he said
black cat, red feather, white line.

~ Smith & Lady

 

Lady Poems on some March days

Wednesday, March 28th, 2018

It’s Going to Be a Beautiful Day

Cat’s hours crouching for a mouse
in the kitchen under the dishwasher
maybe most of night I think as
making coffee to Sun Ra

Miles Davis plays in a silent way
Our hanging crystals in the window
hint at the day’s sparkling potentialities

Sunday a.m. moment between here
and there’s doorway where
light glows from ebb of ember

“Every Sunday’s Easter,” I think
and God responds with a magnificent
spread of light on our dirty window
calling and responding

Husband sees it too, says oo
Then sun goes away, “How dare
that sun go away,” he says, and then
“but actually it didn’t go away
the clouds merely blocked it,
right?”

And they lived happily ever after’s
embroidered on our pillow I tell him

“OK, fair enough,” he says.

A silence presses my ear, which is startled
at the quick and subtle answer from
an unexpected calculator taking note

The vastness of roar and silence
leaves one to a soup of thought,
worked over flagellation

“How are you?” husband asks, and I’m
keen now to leaving myself a comfortable mote
in the torrent

Our guppy quivers in the tank, the male guppy
her ever-present satellite, the banner
of his hippie tail happy to be near her

On our early morning soundtrack choirboys sing
sober remnant whispers of vespers

Traffic splashes in the early morning spring dark
the aftermath of rain’s laid diamonds
on our storm window

When the deal goes down
gonna sit here, before dawn
fishtank light on, our ever-present
Christmas lights silently festive
no computer on my lap,
listen to Chet Atkins chirping
to our slowly twirling
window crystals

The muffled tick of husband’s recliner
he shifts position and crunches
his early a.m. cashews

Black cat wanders cheerful
in the dark

 

wouldn’t trade for fame

Wednesday, December 21st, 2016

bookcake02
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.
meandlibertyme & my 5-month old niece Liberty Lynn Green

 

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

 

Lady Poem July 28, 2016

Thursday, July 28th, 2016

Moment courts that I be not afraid but
trust the line I walk to time earned in
expanses of allowed whistles to a song
of self esteem, a bounce in my step, fealty
to sights noticed and ambient sounds heard
generous wallet and spontaneous talk
face slack, relaxed without frantic smile
except one come naturally like
sating rain

~ Lady

 

Lady poem 7-17-2016

Sunday, July 17th, 2016

The colophon of a book
of the paradise of my life – would
I let myself enjoy it – includes block print bees,
fruit trees, pineapples, haystacks and
wheat wreathes, mint juleps and distillations
cultural and otherwise, figures in almanacs
rendered into prizes for specimens shown
at a county fair

We could walk into this streaming sunshine logo, me and thee,
holding hands up to the curlicue of a wooden arch drizzled
in vine, ducking under leaf and grapes and other emblems
of harvest and civilization

Or we can walk into someplace wild named only
by calligraphic monks and keepers of words
glossy books of birds come to life

Summer morning before it gets hot
swallows divebombing us in plucky cheer
us alien in overgrown grasses of a nature
preserve, new eyes of animated stick figures
a children’s drawing taped
on my office cabinet

 

6-25-2016 Lady Poem

Saturday, June 25th, 2016

Learning’s germ for fertilizing
eyes and ears, a head a heart, a hand,
a pen’s milt on action’s platform,
and it goes around again

~ Lady

 

Types of Work

Saturday, June 18th, 2016

Types of Work

I run by the river, my diet of water
under iron need to exercise,
free for an hour despite
a lightning depleted and
rekindled

Attracted to this lodestone
in caffeinated capture – always out
it’s halfway back to coercivity’s
fret

~ Lady

 

Lady Poem 6-11-2016

Saturday, June 11th, 2016

For Lincoln or Liberty

Clay and fountain
bright source, trice August
fresh brew in the sweatiest month
loin fruit, tiny pink-fisted sturdiness
mouth like an illustration for a healthy wail
presentation of a new someone

~ 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

 

 
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