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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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May 16th, 2019
a few haiku by Basho (1644-1694)
Inside the temple
visitors cannot know
cherries are blooming
Dew on roses
the rapeseed flowers’ faces
become envious
On a bare branch
a crow settled down
autumn evening
The crane’s legs
have gotten shorter
with the spring rain
Old pond
a frog jumps into
the sound of water
~ ~ ~
one by Buson (1716-1783)
Butterfly
sleeping
on the temple bell
~ ~ ~
and non_haiku by me… Normally non-haiku are senryu, but these probably ain’t even that.
Tokyo, Kyoto
same country, same letters
but oh!
In field
corn over my head
alone with sky
Black cat
saunters saucy
fur so sure of self
Cold pain world
slow soak in hot salt bath
briefly evens up
Dogwood dew,
a tear and fear
affair.
April 30th, 2019
My monthly feature #41 on Medusa’s Kitchen – 1st was December 2015 thanks to poet D.R. Wagner recommending me (he of the late 60’s d.a. levy coterie)
Thanks to editor/publisher Kathy Kieth for her generosity – 9 poems, 10 fotos:
http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2019/04/fracking-flux.html
April 23rd, 2019
I’m 2 monthly features and a filmed reading behind blog-wise these past 3 months. My raging ego seems to have gone iffy.
Doesn’t make much difference anyway since fame abhors my vacuum and the world’s slowly boiling itself in frog soup.
Here is my 40th monthly feature on Medusz’s Kitchen, thanks to editor/publisher Kathy Kieth…9 poems, 10 fotos — http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2019/03/becoming-one-with-one.html
April 16th, 2019
2 short poems by others, 2 by me.
~ ~ ~
A poem by Ishmael Reed (born 1938)
Dualism
(in Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man)
i am outside of
history. i wish
i had some peanuts, it
looks hungry there in
its cage
i am inside of
history.it’s
hungrier than i
thot
~ ~ ~
poem by Mike White (born 1971)
The Way
The fourth leg
of the dog
with now
only three
was the
in-the-way one
he’d lift
in order to pee
~ ~ ~
She’s the dew
on my petal
refracting the light
~ ~ ~
There’s this whisper
beneath my silence
wondering why
February 21st, 2019
I’m down to 1 or 2 posts a month (from 1 a day for years and years). Just don’t care all that much… think Little Donnie Dump Trump and his gang of chumps are getting to me.
My 39th monthly feature on Medusa’s Kitchen thanks to the generosity of publisher/editor Kathy Kieth – 10 fotos, 9 poems:
http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2019/02/be-what-it-will.html
January 31st, 2019
Lady’s poem for the January RUFUS poetry workshop:
Jussive on the synthronus
with the silkaline hierodules
witwanton skeleton zygotes jazzbo on the basalt
woolward janitrix triaged the rebullition
ophiuran’s blue ball chaconne
the vaporimeter, which
issued copal in the ginnel below a whelky bell
a colation strung and distilled from wack
circumcrescent potter hands
tagmeme divination of the jural
passively watching the paseo
micromoment digits of the monad
– by Lady K
And here’s my 38th consecutive monthly feature on Medusa’s Kitchen thanks to the generosity of publisher/editor Kathy Kieth – the usual 10 fotos, 9 poems.
http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2019/01/hopes-possible.html
January 13th, 2019
Yes, erumpent fireflies warmed hands
on xanthous flames fireplaced in a
viperiform damascene hagioscope
gripping the reredos
Girandoled discoball constellations
yogiboogeyboarded swimming pool lights,
dog and ponied interstices of the ceiling joists
zoopraxiscoped herds of variegated animals,
the alopecoid and hares, all manners
of dazzling English animals
The nickle nutlets of teeth in
jellygraph gloss of a dead lamb’s grin,
closed eyelids, japan painted blunt nose
nuque broke, visceral ladled nup of bent innocent colliform
draped on a chair, the Inuit their kamiks
Corpulant agriculture was fecund
on plates we left for morning after Christmas,
wastive abundance, frapped humanity
in ruddy hardihood consecrated by
the rabbi we called in;
the comrade donned a biretta
the webster sat under the vesper
it was a mixed bag, fingers bewildered in
nodated whatevers, que sera sera-ing,
the cows munched their kerf
it was ok it was the weather
The validity of vermiculture,
of worksome insects typing logopedics,
rosining translucent violins withily weaving
wirewove niello of the organized whole
~ Lady
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Posted in Being, Creative Writing, Family, Food, Humor, Lady, Letters to the Universe, life, Peace, Poetry, spirituality, weather | No Comments » |
January 6th, 2019
My December feature on Medusa’s Kitchen – 9 poems, 10 fotos.
Thanks to editor/publisher Kathy Kieth for the monthly gig. This is month 37.
http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2018/12/unreined-dear.html
~ ~ ~
Here are the Lady K & Smith poems (1 each) written for Rufus last month. Rufus is our monthly poetry workshop that’s been going for decades. December’s included host Wendy Shaffer, Jack McGuane, Linda New, Russell Vidrick, Terry Provost, Lady K, and me. Jack’s the oldest at 91 or so, Lady K probably the youngest at 46.
First poem by Lady K.
~ ~ ~
Peace like paesano bread, ecphasis,
aegis, sacrament for serenity to hold off
venerers in the zebroid woods who
salt livers and kidneys on the sindon,
cast clean picked flageolets from the inglenook
to the midden, worser natures abluting
xerotic throats with pure
fidicinal zegedines
The beele quains the
glomerate chattering diamond
damned inesculent mechanomorphic lotus!
Fresh kerfed ravelins
are thrown on the compost pile
the worms puzzle it into trichroic castings
gastrolith for the innominate’s neogenesis
Crows dig doggedly
at a nubigenous bandaeau the zumbadors
ushered to garland the pomiferous
virgultum
– Lady K
~ ~ ~
Anthropocened
I was born in Dead Leaf Montana
raised near Brown Grass Gone
my momma loved walking the ridges
daddy was the Devil’s son
ate insects in swamp water for dinner
for fun watched roadkill drying in dawn
trying to catch our breath
as pus oozed from corporate spawn
so took what we could from the dying earth
knowing we wouldn’t be here long
– Smith
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