give us this daze

sisyphussmithSisyphus Smith

Give Us This Daze

Sisyphus sez
sipping coffee waiting for sun
before his morning mountain run
“You have to love the rock
you have to want the hill
pain is all you got
that and strength of will
welcome to the ritual
of redux redo
until rock and hill and roll are one
there is no up or down
and misery is fun.”

– Smith, 3.31.2016


thought crime

a poem a piece for Poetry month


Lady and I each will have one poem appear on the Cuyahoga County Library’s online celebration of National Poetry Month along with 28 other poets, many of them friends. . . you can sign-up for daily notice of each poet here –

The 30 poets with date of poem appearance are Maggie Anderson 4.8, Phil Brady 4.24, Steve Brightman 4.5, Miles Budimir 4.19, Don Cellini 4.12, Kathleen Cerveny 4.30, Thomas Dukes 4.10, Leatrice Emeruwa 4.22, Kisha Nicole Foster 4.9, Kathryn Gallagher 4.2, Lori Kusterbeck 4.25, Tom Kryss 4.3, Bob Lawry 4.20, Amit Majmudar 4.1, Shane McCrae 4.4, Claire McMahon 4.28, Darlene Montonaro 4.18, Linda Nemec Foster 4.29, Mary O’Malley 4.13, Suzanne Ondrus 4.17, Josh Romig 4.16, Barbara Sabol 4.23, Rikki Santer 4.27, Wendy Shaffer 4.21, Margie Shaeed 4.7, Kathy Ireland Smith 4.26, Steven B. Smith 4.15, Lou Suarez 4.14, Bruce Wiegl 4.6, Catherine Wing 4.11.

I’m almost up to Status Report 200. These poems were not originally designed to be a cohesive flow, so I’m starting to go back and patch some of the more awkward segues. Here’s my latest batch patch.

Status Report 2.1

Sun rise
I’m still alive
Now what?


Status Report 13.1

From bed
to coffee
to day


Status Report 21.1

Bath hot
body sore
brain “ahhhhh”


Status Report 27.1

Thank you Great Mother Father Other or Nought
for whatever oddness wrought in this knot
may rot not spoil the plot


Status Report 53.1

Left with seeds and stems
twigs and seeds
to welcome in the norm

– Smith, 3.30.2016


whichever way I amble next


Status Report 197

Waiting in the reading room
reading of the wait that looms
in weight of wait white as bone
existing in the fading zone
more me’s than I can hold in one
so into fiction fill the rest
to test with friction in the fray
whichever way I amble next

– Smith, 3.29.2016


map of man?


did Issa say
birth, bullshit, death
map of man?

– Smith, 3.28.2016


eggsellent Easter color combo, mismatched message


Medusa’s Kitchen features 9 of my poems, 7 fotos and 2 songs in my monthly visit at Glad to be part of their group.

Lady & I caught the Unitarian sunrise Easter service at Lakeview Cemetery this morning.

Sunrise Service

Worship death rerisen
blood dried
by time and design

Dew on grass
low morning light
inner essence effervescence

– Smith, 3.27.2016

A caucasian 12-14 year-old boy in front of me had a purple hoodie covered with illustrations of brass knuckles, dynamite, hand grenades, diamonds, bling, skull & crossbones, handcuffs, headfones, eating utensils, running shoes, winged-skulls, bombs – with a bright yellow t-shirt peeking out the bottom . . . eggsellent Easter color combo, mismatched message.


policy Polonius


Policy Polonius

Roundy round round
roundy round round
cover again the same old ground

Keep yr nose clean
wash yr own mind
stay in line and don’t be wrong kind

Grindy grind grind
groundy ground ground
this working wheel will wear you down

Rub a dub scrub
wash and wax hacks
cover yr ass and hide yr tracks

– Smith, 3.24.2016

Just discovered I have a haiku quite similar to one in the 1600’s by Buson, one of the four great haiku masters.

Buson’s sexual haiku:

The short night is through:
on the hairy caterpillar,
little beads of dew

or depending on translator

The short night–
on the hairy caterpillar
beads of dew.

mine from 2010:

The caterpillar
glistens in night-sparkled dew
hides in its foreskin


The first sip of hot black savior coffee

eggheadart work-in-progress by Lady K

Status Report 196

The first sip of hot black savior coffee
unsweetened in dark before dawn
slides from lip down throat
to blood to brain to mind
to move me to the coming day’s
old sorrows, borrowed rituals,
its forever fog of the familiar
masked handcuffs of the gone
wading new waters with old tides
and altered sandbars with rip sides
of do again the done before
do again the done before
do again do again
do again
the done before

– Smith, 3.23.2016

monka separate reality

oh turd of time


Status Report 195

Spring soon
mushrooms croon
old song’s new tune.

Irritate oyster, get pearl.
Stress coal, get diamond.
Live long, learn.

I I am
yet long for I,
oh turd of time.

– Smith, 3.22.2016


first flesh, then machine


Spent a couple hours in two waiting rooms today reading a 1958 paperback of An Introduction to Haiku: An Anthology of Poems and Poets from Basho to Shiki by Harold Gould Henderson. Excellent read.

Had a cat scan this morning followed by two hours waiting for our car’s wheel bearings to be replaced.

These aren’t haiku, just what oozed out reading while waiting.

Reading in the Waiting Room

Magnetic machines,
human pain and misery
wanting room.

Two waiting rooms,
hospital, then car repair,
is my life a third?

First flesh, then machine,
waiting room to room
haiku waits with me.

Two hour car shop,
in mens room twice,
mediocre music.

Small wallets,
cringing people wading
cost estimates.

Car repair
free pastries free coffee
six hundred dollars.

– Smith, 3.21.2016

Pa-n-law’s backyard drone video used my song Optional Gravy for its soundtrack >

A Late Winter Drone with Optional Gravy



free coffee

Lady Poem – March 19, 2016


Gramma was so big then
her being old and me being new
in the shower at the pool, her belly
like the Venus of Gagarino, Rorate
Coeli – rain down the savior –  legitimate
mystery of the shower’s sluice dripping
in points from her gray pubic hair
a holy wonder for me

Now you have little ones –
are you frank? Do you have steam boiled
practices in their polaroid memories?
Is it like learning for the first time
how to ride a bike, amazed by
whatever made this happen?