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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 ‘Philosophy’ 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

 

Sun Ra

Saturday, March 24th, 2018

Sun Ra

1

My brother, a man of few words
goes across the street to pick up
a Mexican lunch and after he’s full
he gives me his bag of
leftover fresh tortilla chips
a kind of intimacy

2

Tetras – their movement’s squared off into binary digits
flicking 90 degrees like an object suddenly stimulated in a child’s mobile
half of them draw straight lines one tetra length long
various vectors and tangled orthogonalities

They cloud in their favorite spot, the hollow on the right side of the tank
between the lake rocks and the bookcase
The ones on the edge more quick, shooting long tangents,
unsure what they define
and when they thin they scatter
the cloud loses its mind

When a tetra’s alone, it’s adrift
without the ballast and balance
of its companions

The reflection
from the fishtank’s bubbler
goes up at the same rate
looping like contained
stars on a strip
of quicksilver

3

Lyle Lovette says
stars shine on water
sun burns on sand

4

Jupiter is rising
in the ring of Saturn
to celebrate the equivalence
of the days forthcoming

Polly want a polysaccharide?

5

Staircase at night
Low piano note
Comfortable noir

6

I’m going to get a beer
husband goes off to urinate
we’re a pair

The romance of
cyborg man and
atomic eye woman–
the title of our
next book

“When the rising sun
hits the army tents it’s a tent, son,”
he says, then, “s’n will be gone
before eight”

I say, “Astute observations for hire”
He says, “Call me Am….. Astute Man”

then “I was born on the border of
Tolerance and Intolerance,
Texas.”

7

Were my face an owl
thought not thought but
regard for thock of my
feeling, a mirror bent
down from a tree
undersea
being

8

I’d be a
calm caravan
plodding crucible of mothered feet,
shadow liquid in its shifting
under witnessing stars

Retiform filter
gold sifting loaded loam
easy, like a cold ripening apple
thinking about the sun
in the night

~ Lady

 

3 poems, 2 fotos, no song

Thursday, January 4th, 2018

Slipknot

Meet me in the meat lane
I’ll be lambing up the chops

trying to chase the safe
and not the not

laminating lamentations
crying up the crop

slipping slide relations
in cut of guardian knot

never wanted to fuck my mother
didn’t want daddy dead

actually loved my younger brother
before he blew off his head

they’re all gone and yet remain
in my side of am

none of this of course germaine
to jiggle jelly jam

– Smith, 1.4.2018

~

To Be Continued…

You can befuddle a dog
by throwing a stick

You can confuse a cat
by dangling a string

And you can distract people
by mentioning money

– Smith, 1.3.2018

My poem Bad Bush George (for the CheneyBush Beast) is up at WineDrunk SideWalk: https://winedrunksidewalk.blogspot.com/2018/01/day-three-hundred-and-fifty.html

 

2 leftover tidbits, 1 new tidbyte

Wednesday, December 27th, 2017


“Mingus Our Magic,” 4.5″ x 5″ x 1.5″
for Lady K., 12.24.2017

Piece in the fotos titled for poem I wrote Lady in our 10th week of relationship. I turned her onto Mingus, Yoko Ono, and Was (Not Was), and she turned me onto Gorillaz.

~

Match

Mingus our magic
We mingle our meld both mode
And modality

– Smith, 11.21.2005

~

My December feature on Medusa’s Kitchen returns me to form – October and November were uneven, perhaps mindflux from shoulder surgery.

http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2017/12/just-cuz-mirrors-moments.html

~

2 leftover tidbits, 1 new tidbyte:

~

Philosophy 168

We yearn for oneness
but since the Big Bang
we’re someness
underneath a box flap
pulling at the strings

– Smith, 12.22.2017

~

The Flu

One toilet
Two people
Four orifices

– Smith, 12.12.2017

~

Status Report 262

Cold and blow outside
but anti-inflammatory pills gone days ago
so I drive 8 blocks to hospital pharmacy

Leave ear warmer and scarf
cuz parking’s 2 minutes from door

But parking gate’s broken
won’t raise me in,
I’m waved away

I know this game,
Reality and I play all the time,
the let’s-mess-with-him
and see if he’s laugh or curse

Staying calm
I say Buddhist chant
bought 51 years ago in San Francisco for $6

Nam myoho renge kyo
right word, right thought, right action, right path

Drive halfway home to free street parking,
walk back through ice and howl and blow of cold

Get 90 1-a-day pills 8 cents each

Start back
staying inside long as I can
down deserted corridors of weekend hospital
the SLAP SLAP SLAP reminding me
my right sole is loose

(perhaps going to church 60 years ago
didn’t take as well as it might).

Check sole and see coat zipper undone
I re-zip it and the lower half unzips again
jamming.

Pull coat over head,
force zipper unzip,
zip and watch unzip again

Snap snaps,
top 3 close,
bottom 2 broke
coat flops open catching cold

Hunched against biting wind
I scurry through storm
chanting and laughing

Reality’s joke,
but punchline’s mine

– Smith, 12.27.2017

 

serial solar recycle

Monday, November 6th, 2017

Sisyphus Prime

In dark before dawn
clutching cup of hot black coffee
poised between was and will
not quite is
licking wounds
weighing pain
seeing how much grass is left
to ease me through
the three reals of time
before the rock
during the rock
after the rock
and as always
the hill
the rise
the mountain
the sweat unsweet
doing today yesterday
tomorrow today
now now
now being walk to work
push up hill
drag back home
to repeat unnecessary
serial solar recycle

– Smith, 11.6.2017

 

ache of break

Sunday, October 1st, 2017

Philosophy 167

Many paths.
Many mountains.
Many valleys.
Many steps.

Yet one.

~

Philosophy 168

Hope to outgrow
what I cannot outrun.

The ache of break
from dream to wake.

– Smith, 10.1.2017

 

ennui

Friday, September 29th, 2017

Been in a bit of a funk due to health, finances, a general existential ennui – haven’t even posted my new poems.

The health is Lady’s battle with eye cancer (successful it seems) and my right shoulder replacement in 11 days. Already have a metal hip, a metal left shoulder, two metal rods in my neck, and a 2-year unhealed broken kneecap, and set off metal detectors.

The finances are like Sisyphus – eternal. Born poor, live poor, looks as if I’ll die poor.

In spite of all this I am a rich and lucky man – have Lady’s love, a fine cat, cool friends, decent in-laws, and a past fully lived. Plus I had a fine poetry reading at Mac’s Backs last week.

Here’re my two most recent poems, plus a few news updates.

~ ~ ~

Conversation with Wife 37

“Sweat’s so weird,
I woke last night in a cold sweat.”

That’s a James brown song.

“Think it’s menopause.”

How long’s that last?

“10 years.”

10 years?!?!
You mean you bleed for 30 years
then spend another 10 getting over it?

“Yes, aren’t women wonderful?
All to make more of us.”

Why can’t we just order babies from catalogues?

“Are catalogues how we get cats?
Dogs from dogalogues?”

Captains from the Captain’s log.

“Humans from humanalogs.””

I used to belog to a club,
but they wooden let me stay.

– Smith, 9.28.2017

~ ~ ~

Lady K’s cat scan came back negative for cancer, which implies her eye cancer has not spread. They’ll check again in 6 months. Doc says her eye tumor is shrinking, and she has only a 2% chance of it spreading.

~ ~ ~

Status Report 259

I hunger within
for the things without,
yet the things without
cannot feed me
for they lack substance.

– Smith, 9.29.2017

~ ~ ~

Electricity was out 14 hours. Our neighbor saw the pole go down. Said a man cut across the traffic circle half a block away, blew his tire on the curb, gunned the gas, raced through the red light, lost control, hit the electric pole half a block the other way and knocked it over. Our neighbor is a male nurse. His first thought was stroke, so he ran over to see if he could help, saw no signs of stroke, smelled no alcohol, so his best guess based on the way the guy was acting is heroin. 12 hours later as we watch the repair, we hear an explosive KEERACK right across the street and see a massive tree branch as large as a medium tree fall, missing a man’s house by a few inches. He comes out, sees there’s no house damage, and says “Looks like I have some firewood.”

 

There’s far, there’s here, there’s what’s in-between

Tuesday, September 12th, 2017

Philosophy 165

There’s far,
there’s here,
there’s what’s in-between.

Far is sky, clouds, horizon,
dirt, trees, sun, moon, stars, wind,
ornamental grasses,
big ideas, small gifts of affection,
sacred lies like good and right.

Here is our corner of cat and Smith & Lady life,
an oasis from the dark twixt.

In-between lies fire and flood,
weird nasties in power who worsen knot
to make misery money.

We carry our light to far light
in cleanse of blight.

Just need map, road, and first step.

– Smith, 9.12.2017

 

philosophies 152-164

Tuesday, August 29th, 2017

Philosophy 152

You know you are doing something right
when the purring gets louder

~

Philosophy 153

Fire, bone music, stories
the whence from which we came

~

Philosophy 154

We wake in pain
to feathered flesh
that never will arrive

~

Philosophy 155

Man is a pile of dirt minus one rib,
a sloppy eater that needs a bib,
a hunk of meat devouring itself,
mostly lower shelf.

~

Philosophy 156

Sometimes look in the word bucket
and it’s empty
sometimes full but all messed up

~

Philosophy 157

It’s the process
not the end point
that’s the point

~

Philosophy 158

Do what you can
with what you get

~

Philosophy 159

It’s all fluid
a big flexible water whorl weighed with hook
and bite of tooth and claw

~

Philosophy 160

The face in the mask is
alas
peeking through

~

Philosophy 161

Whatever the while
Do your best
And offer a smile
To prime the rest

~

Philosophy 162

Well crack my bred
spread my jam
in this jelly place of am

~

Philosophy 163

Wrinkles are the face’s wealth
we iz what we iz and that’s all yam am.

~

Philosophy 164

Drink my tea, smoke my dope
Shuck this patriarchal collar rope
Get to work on help and hope

– Smith, 8.29.2017

 

life =

Friday, August 4th, 2017

Life = one over end

 

 
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