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WALKING ON THIN ICE

Can the Can’t Cant

January 5, 2014 No Comments

Lady’s 1st apple canning

Can the Can’t Cant

Apple in the pocket.
Apple in the can.
My apple-dapple darling
canning what she can.

She’s cut and plopped and skinned and poemed,
put peaches in her pan,
tomatoes too, raspberry jam
last fall for winter am,
now winters Ohio apple for summer pie
to County Fair enter.

Says she can’t do the can-can,
but surely sure as such she can can.

— Smith, 1.6.2014

Lady wants to enter an apple pie in this year’s county fair. She insists on using Ohio apples, and since harvest comes after the fair, she canned apples in yesterday’s winter for her pie filling next summer. Most folk can in fall for winter.





Lady canned apples, for summer pie – fotosmith

Antithesis, Synthesis, Thesis

January 4, 2014 No Comments


fine print

Antithesis, Synthesis, Thesis

Scientists with their plumb bobs and right-angle reading
need to take leisure with their measure
and realize life is fleeting
especially for the needing who need eating
not eating as in being et but eating in
beneath their own sheltered roofs
in their own warm clothes
with their own lock on their own door
their own clocks, their own suppose
their own food bin, their own private sin
that's not of our beeswax
and that's the truth, Ruth
not too much to ask
or take to task
with your ifs and whens and back agains
as you weigh your theories
and check your purse
to balance your worries
against life or hearse,
or worse.

-- Smith, 1.5.2014

Worked hours last night on a poem that was stillborn, so here's a quickie just to keep the water running . . . daily poem 97 of maybe 101.




shelter from the storm - fotosmith

InfectionHive (Malware mix)

January 3, 2014 No Comments

no hive mind here

InfectionHive (Malware mix)

Hive mind not mine to mime, infection hive
is long talk walking industrial park in hunt of spark
to light eraser heads improperly fed
Guv’nor Goose’s warp rind mind
instead of Mother’s nursery rhymes,
the text and time sublime
in looping ghost mill moan
of rain track stacks,
fracked fact,
and assemblaged line hiss of mechanized Godzillas
in umbrellas of steel hardened hats

— Smith, 1.4.2014

Wrote this listening to InfectionHive by Malware. The composition starts with an aggressive aural assault before moving into a hypnotic industrial assembly line soothe groove grid that would feel at home on the Eraserhead soundtrack. Reminds me of the year I worked for Bethlehem Steel.

Click here to hear InfectionHive by Malware (6:53).


hive mind – fotosmith

A Mobius Loop in Moiré Land

January 2, 2014 No Comments

glorydaze

A Mobius Loop in Moiré Land

Continents drift.
Continents divide.
Continents are incontinent,
hence the oceans.

Nature is its own witness,
it is not for plumbers to decide.

— Smith, 1.3.2014


continental drift – fotosmith

CAT DREAM

January 2, 2014 No Comments

CAT DREAM

Pool of sun, puddle
of warmth for pile of cat
on the oriental carpet

Mandy dreams of night
walking her line up
and down a fence

Thank you,
pretty as you please
jumping off and on
it silently

The moon smiles
into the spacey inkiness
of thick night

~ Lady

Bad Blues Boy

January 1, 2014 No Comments

blues name chart from WHAS 11 News Facebook page

Folks ask what inspires a poem. Answer is anything and everything.

This particular one started last night when I used the above Facebook chart to find that my blues name was Blind Money Davis (which is fair since money seems unable to see me). I used the chart to create some more blues folk, then wrote this around them.

Bad Blues Boy

Hello Big Fingers Brown, I’m Blind Money Davis
heard you been singing some blues
about how I spouted a shout out at Buddy’s
before I done paid enough dues

Well Daddy No Know your psych slip’s been showing
like Stinky Eye Thompkins down patch
that dude do showed you harmonica blowing
his wife helped you scratching that itch

And you didn’t do well with Boney Foot Hopkins
nor Lippy Jeff Bailey back home
guess for Foot there simply weren’t enough napkins
and Bailey you did in alone

Was I you I’d be watching my waywords my friend
best remember Washboard Blue Jim
he couldn’t remember his own chord in the end
and his chance of recovery’s slim

I beat Sleepy Paul Skinny with fret board phrasing
played better than Big Yella When
I certainly handle harmonic stage phrasing
way cooler than 3-Finger Lem

So back off a bit you bitter bad blues boy
before we’re set up for a tiff
I’m not trying or lying here just to be coy
just hoping to soften sad if

— Blind Money Davis aka Smith, 1.2.2014


detail Doubting Thomas installation by James Matzorkis – fotosmith