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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 )
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Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category
Saturday, May 5th, 2012
Where the Occupy Cleveland tent stood for 7 months – foto Smith
It’s a sad day: Lady has decided after seven months to stop cooking breakfast-for-four each morning and delivering it to the occupiers in the Occupy Cleveland Info Tent on Public Square (tent permit was revoked and the tent taken down by the city three days ago).
Since October 7th, 2011 (the first day of the tent city occupation), Lady has cooked 209 breakfasts-for-four which equals 836 people fed . . . that’s quite an accomplishment in seven months. Actually more have been fed because on multiple occasions her four breakfasts were shared by more than four occupiers. We missed delivering breakfast two days out of those seven months — once due to the clutch going out in the car and once because Lady decided she just couldn’t do it anymore.
~ ~ ~
Here’s her goodbye note:
I am taking a hiatus from Occupy Cleveland. It has been too stressful (too much time commitment and with the sad event this past week, very very sad) and I am not sure in what capacity I will return. I wish much love to everyone through this time and wish for the movement to find focus and effectiveness peacefully and I hope that I can return, not be stressed out, and be effective with it as well.
~ ~ ~
Charity
We don’t have much
Not enough for mouth to month
But wife gives of what we have
To others with less
The poor are more gracious than the rich
Who give bigger
From their greater
Yet matter less
There’s pain in giving
There’s pain in not giving
She’s priming the pump
Betting on living
— Smith, 2011
Yesterday’s 2 occupiers who wouldn’t give up
(she fed them) – foto Smith
Posted in activism, Lady, Photography, Poetry | 1 Comment »
Friday, May 4th, 2012
Et tu, Brute – foto Smith
A Bridge Not Far
This skeleton –
a bridge which carries flesh
from birth to death
— Smith, 2010
Red pepper pole – foto Smith
Posted in Photography, Poetry | No Comments »
Thursday, May 3rd, 2012
In unity is strength – foto Smith
Fib
FBI is just lie misspelled
— Smith, 2003
Rather weird to go to online to national news and see FBI mug shots of three people Lady and I have been feeding breakfast to off and on for the past seven months down at the Occupy Cleveland info tent on Public Square, especially when the headline says “FBI watched as 5 men planned Ohio bridge bomb plot.”
The three we know always seemed nice, polite, gentle, friendly, helpful. One of them was putting together an Occupy Cleveland poetry anthology which Lady and I were to be in.
Unfortunately these five folk cost us our occupation tent permit. Cleveland had the longest continuous outdoor occupation in the country until Mayor Frank Jackson seized on the bomb plot to revoke it yesterday — he’s been trying to shut us down from the beginning.
But revoking our permit won’t do him any good because we simply walked across the street and occupied the northwest quadrant of Public Square, thanks to a court decision last year allowing this (although no sleeping or tents allowed).
So we’ll see what happens.
Here is the media statement which Occupy hashed out May 1st in an emergency meeting.
~ ~ ~
Occupy Cleveland Statement concerning May 1st events in Cleveland
While the persons arrested Monday evening by the FBI have participated in Occupy Cleveland events, they were in no way representing or acting on behalf of Occupy Cleveland. Occupy Cleveland has affirmed the principles of non-violence since its inception on October 6, 2011. Occupy Cleveland has spoken out and worked against violence in all its forms, including:
– Wars and occupations
– Economic violence of financial inequality, unemployment, debt and foreclosure
– Social violence of racism, sexism and homophobia
– Environmental violence of global warming and fracking
Occupy Cleveland believes the only way to respond to a violent federal and corporate state is through active non-violence. It is unfortunate that this occurred on the eve of May Day, the day the Occupy movement and workers around the world have taken to the streets, demanding justice. What has happened in no way discredits the issue and the non-violent methods of Occupy Cleveland and the Occupy movement world-wide.
~ ~ ~
Power to the peaceful.
Make them hear you – foto Smith
Posted in Photography, Poetry, Politics | 2 Comments »
Tuesday, May 1st, 2012
Mind over matter – foto Smith
Answers
New morning light
On yesterday’s shadow
– Smith, 2005
Mind under matter – foto Smith
Posted in Photography, Poetry | No Comments »
Sunday, April 29th, 2012
2nite – foto Smith
This needs to be sung fun and jolly, like a Saturday morning TV children’s song.
Tonight’s Advice to Tomorrow’s Me
Whatcha gonna do when the oughts run round?
Whatcha gonna do when your thoughts dip down?
Whatcha gonna do when your heart ticks tight?
Whatcha gonna do when it’s not all right?
It is not the fall but the getting up.
It is not the fail but the making up.
It is not the fault of the other folk
If you’re the butt of the cosmic joke.
Forget the outer, it’s the inner view.
Regret’s your master unless you renew.
Yesterday’s gone around the bend.
Tomorrow’s chance to make amend.
Past makes perfect seems to suggest
You’ve taken leave of some sound sense.
Then seeps in when somewhere down the road
Sometimes too steep to carry the load.
It’s always here and now, this not that
No matter what jumpstarted this act.
Work from in to out till all sparkle clean
Then get to work on the rest of the machine.
– Smith, 4.29.2012
2morro – foto Smith
Posted in Photography, Poetry | No Comments »
Saturday, April 28th, 2012
Inside out t-shirt by Anna Arnold – foto Smith
Wrote this this morning, posted it, then took it to the Newfus poetry workshop. I figured if any poem of mine could use constructive criticism, this newborn was it. So here’s what I posted, followed by what the workshop group suggested I change it to. They did make it better.
Street Fighting Women
My wife gets up at 3, goes to bed at 8
while I retire at 11, rise at 6.
At 3:28 in morning
through sleep I hear soft “Honey?”
“Uhhhhh yea?”
“There’re two women fighting outside
and I don’t know what to do.
Should I go out and stop them?”
“Let me look.”
I stumble through dark cold to look out window.
On the sidewalk three floors down
two women are screaming at each other.
In our driveway is an unknown car,
a man standing foolish, silent,
staying away from the women.
I listen . . .
anger, outrage, but no violence.
“Don’t worry, they’re not going to hurt each other.”
We watch awhile.
One puts her hand on the other’s shoulder.
Shoulder woman jerks, turns, starts away.
Hand woman follows,
both still screaming.
Man sort of starts forward,
stops when they stop, keeping distance.
More yelling,
but it’s running down.
Shoulder woman finally leaves left.
Hand woman, man depart right.
I go back to bed,
unsuccessfully seek sleep,
toss and turn
trying to return to where I was
seeing no moral
no lesson
nothing but this poem.
– Smith, 4.28.2012
Workshop result:
Street Fighting Women
My wife gets up at 3
goes to bed at 8.
I retire at 11
rise at 6.
At 3:28 this morning
through sleep I hear soft “Honey?”
“Uhhhhh yea?”
“There’re two women fighting outside
and I don’t know what to do.
Should I go out and stop them?”
“Let me look.”
Stumble cold through dark to window.
On the sidewalk three floors down
two women are screaming at each other.
In our driveway is an unknown car,
a man standing foolish, silent,
staying away from the women.
I listen . . .
anger, outrage, but no violence.
“Don’t worry, they’re not going to hurt each other.”
We watch awhile.
One puts her hand on the other’s shoulder.
Shoulder woman jerks, turns, starts away.
Hand woman follows,
both still screaming.
Man sort of starts forward,
stops when they stop, keeping distance.
More yelling,
but it’s running down.
Shoulder woman finally leaves left.
Hand woman, man depart right.
I go back to bed,
unsuccessfully seek sleep,
toss and turn
trying to return to where I was.
– Smith, 4.28.2012
Lady hugging tree yesterday for Arbor Day
same tree 2 women were screaming in front of this morning
foto Smith
Posted in Lady, life, Peace, Photography, Poetry | No Comments »
Thursday, April 26th, 2012
Silent echo – Smith
Odd dream last night. I was trying to play drums in a band called Rubber Gun Chicken and couldn’t make a sound.
So while I’m pondering that, I’ll continue the personal silence meme and use another’s words for today’s blog . . . an 88 year old poem written by a 22 year old black man to his white professor which I’ve read at our last two gatherings to appreciative silence.
This is from pages 166-7 of Cleveland Poetry Scenes: A Panorama & Anthology from Bottom Dog Press 2008, an excellent book of articles and poems I’m honored to be in (surprised too, since I’m Cleveland’s archetypical outsider).
Langston lived in Cleveland from 1917-20 when he was 15-18; he graduated from high school here where he was class poet and had his first poem published in the school magazine.
THEME FOR ENGLISH B
By Langston Hughes, 1924
The instructor said,
Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you—
Then, it will be true.
I wonder if it’s that simple?
I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.
I went to school there, then Durham, then here
to this college on the hill above Harlem.
I am the only colored student in my class.
The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem
through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas,
Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y,
the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator
up to my room, sit down, and write this page:
It’s not easy to know what is true for you or me
at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I’m what
I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me—we two—you, me, talk on this page.
(I hear New York too.) Me—who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records—Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn’t make me NOT like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part of you, instructor.
You are white—
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That’s American.
Sometimes perhaps you don’t want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that’s true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me—
although you’re older—and white—
and somewhat more free.
This is my page for English B.
– Langston Hughes
Cleveland building blocks – foto Smith
Posted in Photography, Poetry | No Comments »
Wednesday, April 25th, 2012
3rd eye certain – Smith
No Now Now
Soaking in hot bath
thinking next
processing past
when Ram Dass whispers
“Be here now”
so I stop
relax into now
only there’s no now now
no know
it’s flick bits of then
ifs, woulds, whens
perhapses, maybes
temp checks
time taken
token to
too
no silent vessel
but creak and clatter
patter matter
— Smith, 4-25-2012
Brain bubbles – foto Smith
Posted in Photography, Poetry | No Comments »
Tuesday, April 24th, 2012
Faulty window – Smith
Soap Opera Century Walk Bach To Me
Saw a cat sit and beat a drum with her tail
Thought of Jonah swallowing the whale
Of the life against which he lived to fail
But someone already told that tale
Then there’s Icarus flying too close to the sun
While the Minotaur after Theseus does run
And Medea over Jason kills her son
But she’s not the only one
Medusa with one look turns men to stone
As Isis hunts far for Hurus’ last bone
To reunite his body and death atone
Might have been simpler simply to reclone
Robin Hood robbed and taxed the rich
Whose greedy palms did always itch
For larger status tents to pitch
But too much want leads to the ditch
Hercules had to clean their stables
Because only he was able
Unless that is just another fable
And I’m sitting at the wrong table
All these tales tell outlandish lies
Trying to answer our unsettled whys
To explain what’s above the skies
The how and why we live our lives
But there ain’t no truth to a single one
Except for truth of having fun
Though bits of truth in each one sum
Yet no final answer till this this undone
Of course I could be wrong on all this
This endless list of missed and myths
I mean I don’t even know my is
Much less the way of bliss ‘n show biz
— Smith, 4-24-2012
Broken window – foto Smith
Posted in Photography, Poetry | No Comments »
Monday, April 23rd, 2012
Too much – Smith
The Wolf Who Cried Human & The Pack That Wouldn’t Believe
It’s not about me
It’s about you
No matter what you do to me
It still leaves you with you
In wanting is suffering born
The rabbit never stops running
for rutting
from stuffing
for eating
in rabbit run meaning
Feed the cat or listen to perpetual meowing machine
I’m askin’ not requestin’
Inquirin’ not suggestin’
Ain’t no shakin’ in the Shakers Circle
Ain’t no quakin’ at the Quakers wake
This is rather what I’ve done
I’ve flowed from sun to sun
Croon old placenta moon
In squid ink sky
Reflect on root
Over white water why
Rat shack me shank around a bend I go
Downstream between the healing and the heat
— Smith, 4-23-2012
Dr Smith’s prescription for reality – foto Smith
Posted in Photography, Poetry | No Comments »
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