AD.

WALKING ON THIN ICE

first and perhaps only poem I wrote on LSD

This is the first and perhaps only poem I wrote on LSD. Don’t remember writing it. Discovered it in my notebook the next day.

Image is a collaboration between ChatGPT, Dall-E, and me.
Can’t believe the words/non-words it included.

Night Fragment

As has been said
The night weighs upon the city
In tired, fat insolence. Rat scurry.
Old papers flap down empty streets.
It is an ugly season. Full.
Day slouches in, in shameless anonymity
Devoid of great chained excuses of being
A voided has been of god, notion and country.
Unfocused without, we hunt worms within
To bait further cold excretion of reason, rationale.
Refuse refusing our naked nothing.
Cautious.
Strip steal by night.

– Smith, 1968

May 2024 word harvest

May 2024 word harvest:

2024.5.11 – Ahh, a temporary temporary
2024.5.25 – Walking garden
2024.5.28 – Whatever bad I may be
2024.5.28 – Trump
2024.5.28 – America

[ images a collab between Smith / ChatGPT / Dall-E ]

~ ~ ~

Ahhh, a temporary temporary
in this big world always

dark sky black clouds slow rain
wet leaves dampen sound
suck light

the human virus crouch inside
quiet
hide from cleansing

Earth don’t care
lotta life before we came
lots after we gone

manflesh dies
decays
new life grows

green is green
feeds on failure

small am I
ooh minor moments
sing song with new ears

~ ~ ~

Walking garden
see what see
night light dim
moon drips me
fullfool man
shadow show
must expand
serve soul
trip meat path
string about
Basho frog splash only out
not quitting
day by day
no letting big pain sway
pain moral
pain flesh
pain oral
pain mesh
doing good
happy been
8-fold road
mindheart yen
rest tonight
rise tomorrow
seek light
serve sorrow

~ ~ ~

Whatever bad I may be
when I pet my cat she sees me
as highest form of we

~ ~ ~

Trump
MAGAtz
red rat rising

~ ~ ~

America
I see you
in I.C.U.

 

1st time E.R. for Lady

5 1/2 hours first to ExpressCare then E.R. for my Lady who was sorting exotic odd bits for assemblage art when she opened a fishing lure in firm plastic which popped and the lure jumped up and bit her, putting all 3 hooks in her left index finger, one near bone.

1st time E.R. for Lady.

Don’t

Don’t songs once in my shuffle pool….
guess that makes them don’t don’ts.

Don’t – Larkin Poe
Don’t Bogart Me – The Fraternity Of Man
Don’t Bogart That Joint – Marinus Pee
Don’t Bring the Blues to Bed – Leon Russell
Don’t Eat Stuff Off The Sidewalk – The Cramps
Don’t Eat the Yellow Snow- Frank Zappa
Don’t Forget Whose Legs You’re On – Arctic Monkeys
Don’t Fucking Tell Me What To Do – Robyn
Don’t Go Home With Your Hard-On – Leonard Cohen
Don’t Let Go – Roy Hamilton
Don’t Let The Devil Ride – Precious Bryant
Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right – Bob Dylan
Don’t Worry, Be Happy – Bobby McFerrin
Don’t You Think This Outlaw Bit’s Done Got Out of Hand – Waylon Jennings

word harvest April 2024

word harvest April 2024…

2024.4.1 – Bath window above
2024.4.2 – Perhaps the real party starts
2024.4.3 – Old diner
2024.4.8 – The rich eat the rich
2024.4.9 – What’s the biggr miracle
2024.4.10 – When it’s not the sirens
2024.4.15 – Who and what do I worship?
2024.4.17 – Sun up sky
2024.4.19 – Slow walking edge
2024.4.25 – Sitting in hot water
2024.4.29 – Freight train chugging down valley
2024.4.30 – Simple Simon Sez

~ ~ ~

Bath window above
all high wind rush and siren
no rooster, no train

yet there’s always rooster
always train

water hot
mind spirit soul not
used up much recovering
from tumor they cut

turn on radio
hide siren high wind sound
go to Zen when

sit up
mouthful of cold water
close eyes
sip slide small slips slow down throat
one high fine at a time
lay back
soak

radio hides mind
quiets body window noise
listen to C. Prophet sing
“What Makes The Monkey Dance?”

hmmmm…

~ ~ ~

Perhaps the real party starts
on the other side
free of flesh

~ ~ ~

Old diner
24/7
grease & gravy

~ ~ ~

The rich eat the rich
devour the poor
still itch

~ ~ ~

What’s the bigger miracle
yesterday’s total solar eclipse
or that Cleveland’s skies were clear?

~ ~ ~

When it’s not the sirens
it’s the freight train
when it’s not the freight train
it’s the rooster
when it’s not the rooster
it’s the windwater rush of wheel
when it’s not the wheels
it’s the sirens

~ ~ ~

Who and what do I worship?

don’t know no who high enough
from my lowness to glance upwards at

(I’m usually too high for humans anyway)

and I don’t worship animals birds insects fish
though do treasure respect admire

I’m close to worshipping plants
green leaves lilacs tall grasses

I do worship the trees
which may be earth’s highest lifeform
rich and wise in time and sharing

(we’re earth lieforms)

of course I totally worship the sun
from my small shadow

and last week in full total eclipse
I looked at the sun with uncovered eyes
for four minutes
as Sky Eye stared back at me
enrichingly

and I looked good

even piss sparkles in the sun

~ ~ ~

Sun up sky
man down dirt
Heaven vs Earth

The wind blows where it blows
knows what it knows
goes when it goes
in spite of my guesses
of yes’es and no’s

I drink my coffee
watch the moon eat the sun
we are one

~ ~ ~

Slow walking edge
abyss below
void within

~ ~ ~

Sitting in hot water
sweating salt water

Sipping cold water
sweating more

Less of me to rue

~ ~ ~

Freight train chugging down valley
hauling my old sins away
making room for new

~ ~ ~

Simple Simon Sez

It’s your world
I’m more flotsam or jetsam
not cargo
not passenger
couldn’t pay passage
no where no way no why

Yet here I am
part stowaway mostly fool
dancing your sins
your money bins adding empty to empty
pretending they’re full
printing what you don’t have
to buy what you can’t use

Shiny tomorrow dead yesterday
you know
sow reap rip sew

Been lotta sowing heading for reaping
big heap of ripping

Mess larger math smaller

I choose to move in moments
sit in sun
walk dog
pet cat
hug wife
toke home grown
you know
lightening my corner of are

We’re meant to mend
watch trends but not follow
avoid the fallow the shallow the hollow

So I mine the mundane
like our white picket fence
ending in dead-end street

It’s precarious
the good
the bad
the living
the dead
the taken and the left behind

Best to sit a bit between the troubles
soak in sun and silence

~ ~ ~

1st 3 poems (1964) illustrated by A.I & me

Asked ChatGPT / Dall-E to illustrate my first 3 poems, my total output for 1964. I was 18.

Fruddlehump

I saw a purple purfled cloud
A softly go flinning by
It skipped and jumped and fruddlehumped
Across the mauvian sky

Then I saw two bluish banobs
Making flurvy beneath the tree
They skipped and jumped and fruddlehumped
Into the Jungian sea

Next I saw a whimpering wall
Switch to a strumpbelly strict
Then skip and jump and fruddlehump
Man I sobered up quick

Slowly I put down my bottle
Never to drink anymore
Then skipped and jumped and fruddlehumped
Right through the tavern door

S.O.P.

It hurts to be a teddy bear
To sit alone, unused
No longer wanted anywhere
Just left alone, confused

I’m tossed aside to lie in here
This dank and musty chest
The dampness serves to hide my tear
The dark to mock my past

Not always thus, this has been no
I was her fair haired toy
She loved me once, I pleased her so
I shone, her chosen joy

Yet here I lie in darkest net
Her love for me did end
My love for her she deemed forget
She found a stranger friend

And now the stranger she does mold
And twists him through the air
While in this chest my heart grows cold
Alone and frightened, bare

Confessions of a Conservative

Let others munch spare frogs legs and things
Or their mother’s tidbits so fine.

Not me.
I prefer wee bumblebee wings
With a pipe of blueberry wine.

I’ve no desire for porcupine stew
Aunts coated in chocolate yea thick
Fried crocodile
Ala flayed caribou
Or some other chef’s table trick.

A simple table whenever I dine.
Not mine all these modern cuisines.
I’m quite satisfied with blueberry wine
And old fashioned bumblebee wings.

shuffle soup 4.25.2024

interesting additions to my shuffle soup

362 – I’m Waiting for the Man – Velvet Underground
363 – There Stands The Glass – Webb Pierce
364 – Missing Out – Maya Hawke
365 – Alaska – Maggie Rogers
366 – Johnny Come Home – Fine Young Cannibals
367 – I Need Some Money – Eddie Harris
368 – The Late John Garfield Blues -John Prine
369 – The Shadow Of A Black Crow (Live From Topeka Correctional Facility) – Melissa Etheridge
370 – Chrome Plated Heart – Melissa Etheridge
371 – The Great Pretender – Roy Orbison
372 – How Soon Is Now? – The Smiths
373 – Kickstand Hog – Critters Buggin
374 – Honky Tonk, Pt.1 – Bill Doggett
375 – Ugly Side – girl in red
376 – Trio Sonata No. 6 in G Major, BWV 530: III. Allegro – Yo-Yo Ma, Chris Thile & Edgar Meyer & Johann Sebastian Bach
377 – Organ Sonata No. 5 in C Major, BWV 529: II. Largo – Michel Deneuve, Jean Ferrandis & François Xavier Bourin for Cristal Baschet
378 – Danse Céleste – Michel Deneuve – Présent Infini (Musiques Méditatives pour Cristal Baschet)

Word harvest March 2024

-Word harvest March 2024

2024.3.3 – Deep low slow pull
2024.3.4 – Sun’s up
2024.3.6 – I sit in silence that is not silence
2024.3.13 – Life’s simple
2024.3.14 – Ahhh yes
2024.3.15 – Life’s funny
2024.3.23 – Remove my ears
2024.3.25 – In bath sweating
2024.3.26 – I’m slow

~ ~ ~

Deep low slow pull
big weight freight train moan
always going never coming

I am Sisyphus
I am rock
I am hill

(aren’t we all?)

I live on the corner
of Random Ave and Marginal Drive
just off Lost Nation Road

(fog in fugue of chance and choice)

I’m no Johnny Red-Toes
dipping his boots
in others’ blood

(backup beep of Reality repairing itself)

I keep my needs simple
a sip of water
a sit in the sun

Out there
persistant rooster tries to raise sun
under constant Cleveland cloud

~ ~ ~

Sun’s up
rooster keeps crowing
so much for cause and effect

~ ~ ~

I sit in silence that is not silence
there’s a wavering hiss of tire on concrete
the far siren singing
clock ticks
unknown people in unknown places
murmuring unknown words in unknown song
baby dinosaur chirps from tree
unseen dog barks territory
more cars hiss wind and water
squirrel chitters
wind chimes
rooster crows for sun every eleven seconds
when it’s been up for hours
in rhythmic return of almost nothing

unsilent dance
moves here
moves there
a veil over its fate

I listen

~ ~ ~

Life’s simple
you sow
you reap
you rip
you sew

I listen a lot lately
listen to the windchimes
but also to the wind
listen to kitten cry existential angst
yet power purr in my lap
listen to night
to light
to elephant trumpet and angry cat
in Zoo down hill
to wind water rush of rubber rolling road
and fainter hiss of hit and miss
to rooster constantly crowing sun
every few seconds all day long
to wife
(“happy wife, happy life”)
to shadow cat jumping from mantle to join me
in graceful silence
me grateful she wants to
to Good Smith inside see where he’s going
to Evil Smith as well just in case
to me listening to you listening
to spring birds peeping
sirens singing
freight trains moaning
coyotes howling
hoot owls hooting
in this Great Hearing of the Body Electric

and so I sow
reap
rip
sew
rinse again repeat
and try not to bleed in the street

~ ~ ~

Ahhh yes
clumps of complications behind me
all kinds of troubles lurking ahead
but right here
right now
hot black unsweetened coffee
steaming in a white Twin Peaks diner cup
life is sweet in its bitterness
there’s hope having stumbled this far
we can fake it to the finish
after we finish
this

~ ~ ~

Life’s funny
and then you die
a punchline

so
go for laughs
or gasps?

~ ~ ~

Remove my ears
take out my teeth
lay these old bones down
piece by piece

~ ~ ~

In bath sweating
cat in window above
beyond cat lies two ever-presents —

rooster crowing sun
freight train pulling moan

I am rooster
I am train
I am rising sun
I am undelivered load

between rooster and train
the low constant white noise
of windwater leaves and tires fleeing

I am wind
I am water
I am leaves
I am rubber

I do not flee

~ ~ ~

I’m slow
but I’m stupid
so I make up for it

~ ~ ~

been writing poetry 60 years

I have been writing poetry for 60 years.

Here is my oldest remaining from 1964. I was 18, in the Navy, at prep school for the Naval Academy, my English teacher asked me to write a poem for the base newspaper.

Fruddlehump

I saw a purple purfled cloud
A softly go flinning by
It skipped and jumped and fruddlehumped
Across the mauvian sky

Then I saw two bluish banobs
Making flurvy beneath the tree
They skipped and jumped and fruddlehumped
Into the Jungian sea

Next I saw a whimpering wall
Switch to a strumpbelly strict
Then skip and jump and fruddlehump
Man I sobered up quick

Slowly I put down my bottle
Never to drink anymore
Then skipped and jumped and fruddlehumped
Right through the tavern door