Blog Home Agent of Chaos City Poetry Zine Buy Stuff!
...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 June, 2014

Big Box Parking Lot

Saturday, June 21st, 2014


Big Box Parking Lot

Gray concrete and cars
bordered by greenish trees
capped by smudge white sky
customers walk cross lot
heads down, hands raised,
eye on cybervice
not much here to be here
they not here at all.

– Smith, 6.21.2014



Rapunzel and Rumpleforeskin

Friday, June 20th, 2014


Rapunzel and Rumpleforeskin

They arrested me in Willoughby
for being on the wrong side of the tracks in Wontoughby.

I was known as No-Joke Smith in the humor wars
because there were jokes everywhere
poodles and oodles of em
and everyone had one except this one
who had puns instead and felt like the joker in the deck
but at least unfun pun no-joke me
knew he was jokeless
and being in on it
laughed all the way to Lady Luck
where laying about the farm afloat in strawberries
and cultured cream
he schemed to scam the castle
overthrow the emcee
and host the most in my once cherry red coat
turned white with insight
to never feed the monster in the moat again.

They used to call me strychnine
but I was only #8.

– Smith, 6.20.2014



City Give

Thursday, June 19th, 2014


City Give

Five days ago struck by beauty
I stopped my bike and gaped
at the yellows and pinks and lavenders and
blues and purples and whites
sprinkled across the glowing green growing
a great big kiss of sun on this fecund now.

Today walking back from working dirt
weeding watering our garden plot
I pointed to the expanse
of monochrome fresh mown no-flower green
and described what I had seen.

No sadness.
City let flowers grow.
City mows.
Move on to next gasp waiting down the road
grasping glad in hand.

– Smith, 6.19.2014

nature by Lady top & Smith bottom



Thursday, June 19th, 2014


The word “love”
satisfies my throat like warm milk–
land of milk and honey accessible
in warmth and comfort
of a
nurturing relationship

We take care of each other
with love
a verb, too

When words feel fair
they feel like flags
in receiving ground

Something takes

Strong, held fast
soldered and rooted

That which we know
ratcheted in


Now we found our field,
our mountain

We can fly streamers on it
we can watch stars and fireworks
fireflies and swirling sparklers

Let’s be
that which we remembered
the temple for our inner children
the shelter of our embrace

~ Lady


Moisture mugs the sky

Wednesday, June 18th, 2014

unfinished treeface

Lady and I are hosting an open mic poetry reading in Chardon Ohio this Saturday June 21 at Beans Coffee shop from 1-3pm. It is a part of their annual heART of Geauga Arts Jam . . . check out their all-day schedule at

Beans Coffee Shop & Bistro, 121 Main Street, Chardon, Ohio 44024, (440) 286-7545.

~ ~ ~

Our chore share:
Lady cooks our meals, makes out the grocery list and leads food shopping, washes the floors and vacuums, schedules, pays bills, works 30-40 hours a week.
I do the dishes, laundry, clean the catbox, take out garbage, various other chores.
Mostly share the rest.

~ ~ ~

Don’t know if there’ll be a poem today. Find out by midnight. 260 daily poems may be enough. Do know obsessing on a poem-a-day for past 8.5 months has crowded out the rest of the blog. Been doing a lot of unblogged stuff like putting a found object face atop a 20 foot tree trunk for Hooper Farms, and volunteering at the Chagrin parks for the Knee High Naturalists, which was outdoor activities for kids 2-6 years old. Lady and I manned and womanned the kite table. Did several bee activities, and we also planted more trees for the MetroParks. Lady’s activism continues and I continue being her driver companion. I also seem to be headed for a shoulder replacement; should find out today. That will make titanium and ceramic in my right hip, 2 synthetic hernia meshes, glass-plastic-metal eye glasses, plastic metal teeth, and a metal/plastic shoulder keeping me going cyborg-wise.

~ ~ ~


Heat hovers like mad.
Plants wilt from want of wet.
People lay about.

Moisture mugs the sky.
Lake humidity rises.
Summer schlumps again.

– Smith, 6.18.2014

Summertime Summertime by The Jamies, 1958.

~ ~ ~

Kneehigh Naturalists flying kites


Conversation with Wife 3

Tuesday, June 17th, 2014


Conversation with Wife 3

“I really like the vocab list I am learning, a word a day.
My favorite is corollary, a conclusion based on a fact.”

“That’s one of the definitions.
The other is a coral where they keep Larrys.”

“Do you mean corral?”

“That’s a way to pronounce it.
Some do say corral Larrys.”

“No, people usually say corollary to an axiom.”

“Yeah, I kept axiom questions but no one had any answers.”


“That’s why I keep axiom.”

– Lady & Smith, 6.17.2014


1st two iterations of title, from 5.4.2014.

~ ~ ~

Conversation with Wife

“I need to make a code change before we go.”
will that be a short time change or long?
you say short because you’re short?
or short time because you’re a short timer?
perhaps it’s time shortage since your age is short of mine?
at least we’ve no shortage of options.
how about short changed? isn’t that how they make short people,
short change tall ones into short ones?
if a short person wears shorts, does that make it short shorts?
are you coded yet, can we go?
best hurry, we’re short on time.

– Smith

~ ~ ~

Conversation with Wife 2

“Thank you for being so nice to me.”

That’s part of my three face plan. It’s easier for me to be nice to you because I put on one of my three faces, then I do my gig, and then, one third way through the day (but we’re only only dealing with the wake day) I change faces. I put on one of my new faces. So my new Smith is ready to do all this nice stuff again. Then, two thirds through the wake day, I change again. So it’s easier to be nice when you have three faces. That’s my three face plan.

The weakness is my three face plan requires marijuana. In fact, all my plans require marijuana, without exception. Even my plan for not having marijuana requires having marijuana for getting through.

I’m what’s known as your three plan man, Stan. Your three plan Stan man. If I were Stan, I could do Stan up comedy. I could run for President on the Stan Man Plan: “free pot in every pipe.” That’s my motto.

“I can’t Stan your plan.”

Well, we can fix anything with enough marijuana.

– Lady w/ Smith



Tuesday, June 17th, 2014


Like a concerned neighbor,
peace pounds at the door
of Representatives,
the Senators,
the President

Peace demands to be let in

Peace does the hard work,
picking toys up off the floor
wiping faces like a parent
figuring stuff out like
the engineering
behind diplomacy,
soothes tantrum tattle

Peace is strong,
strong as the Universe

It’s a stress reliever,
peace flying outwards forever like breath,
like surf, frontier of trumpets
and drums, celebrations
and flying angels

~ Lady


Out at the In-laws 12

Monday, June 16th, 2014

Out at the In-laws 12

In honor of my 23 years sober,
mother-in-law hands me a Virgin Mojito and says,
“Bet it’s a long time since you’ve seen a virgin.”

“51 years, I was 17, and she may have been lying.”

I don’t share my Mother’s Day story,
though this being Father’s Day they fit.

Buzzy the homeless newspaper vendor
backside the West Side Market
asks Lady if she’s a mother.
“I’m a mother to our cat,” she grins.
“There you go, happy Mother’s Day,” Buzzy chortles.
“Well,” I say softly,
“if she’s a mother, that makes me a mother fucker.”

– Smith, 6.16.2014



Quantum String Sting

Sunday, June 15th, 2014


Quantum String

Now and then there’s a now such as I
though there is no then since time’s just a lie
and so is space accordion to the the quantum pie
which is probability lemon meringue
with whipping cream side
and a cat box is somehow involved
unopened and uncleaned until one asks why
where you can know pace or place
but not both they say
and if you do say then you don’t really know
so you can have it both ways if you don’t actually go
but I suspect clowns clone down that path
or drones plow their own repast
rehashed over eggs and rice
spliced by staff gaffs at half mast
having blasts with mind lice
making fools such as I
another blackbird baked into the sly
in one more quantum sting.

– Smith, 6.15.2014

the shadow knows


I got stung (on purpose)

Saturday, June 14th, 2014


We had ourselves stung on purpose seven days ago to see if we have bee sting problems, since we’re buying bees next spring.

I was amazed at how hot the sting was, a pool of subcutaneous liquid fire spreading rapidly, lasting a couple minutes.

I chose my right thumb because bee venom is supposed to help arthritis . . . evidently the venom causes the body’s immunization system to respond – supposedly will even reduce scar tissue over time. Some folk get stung weekly.

The pain didn’t last long, itched a couple days, then went away.

This morning the base of my thumb is suddenly swollen and itches like mad, so googled it –

delayed reactions result when the body’s immune system prepares for future stings, these include swelling and/or intense itching which begin a week after the sting.” Doesn’t say what to do or when it ends.

I was a farm boy in the 1950s, had many a bee sting with no problems – odd how the body changes sensitivities over time.

Today’s poem was posted as Just Like Starting Over, but discovered I’d used that title so changed it to Once More With Feeling and discovered I’d already used that too, so now it’s a much better title than either of those.

Wake Sisyphus Rock

In pre-morning dark
before the sun and sky rise,
ready be to be.

Wake Sisyphus rock,
do again the done before,
roll back up the hill.

I arise a 10,
get run down to 1 by bed,
next day do again.

Wife working on couch,
her cyber slave symbiont
humming in her lap.

The cat is working floor,
need for food and affection
heard in firm meow.

Today poetry
for wife and I, after her
18 mile run.

I sit in silence
sipping caffeine, plotting path
to get to tonight.

Some days are two cups,
other daze require three,
couple toke or two.

I soak in quiet
waiting for a poem to breathe,
rise from so slow brain.

Poem and sun and sky
calibrate incoming day,
balance in belief.

Voila, sun is up.
Window’s crystals rainbow wall,
“Action” sez my is.

– Smith, 6.14.2014

New Ball&Smith tune, from point of view of rat in maze . . . click here to hear Rat Lab . . . Peter Ball music-mix-recording, word-voice me.

Rat Lab

All is not as is perceived,
though good is good in friends I see.
New-met folk seem kind to me,
And even strangers help in need.
There’s bad and wrong and ugly spell,
yet much less than was thought to tell,
but most our good folk got no gots
so working hard to raise their lot.

I am not rat, I do not roll,
I will not be your tootsie role,
it’s truth I seek and chains to lose
in finding through this field of fool.

Not much time to police police
or research vote to aid in ease,
must eat to work and work to feed
to keep ongoing family
on starting track awaiting bell
to salivate our way to well,
it’s not quite right but there’s no time
to solve it all by closing rhyme.

I am not rat, I do not roll,
I will not be your tootsie role,
it’s truth I seek and chains to lose
in finding through this field of fool.

– Smith, 6.13.2014



Copyright (c) 2009 Smith & Lady
Designed by Lady K