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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 )
 
   
 
 

Archive for December, 2020

wordwork

Sunday, December 13th, 2020

Writing more since Trump lost.
He did lessen quality of life.

2020.12.10 – With plague
2020.12.11 – Flayed Minion
2020.12.12 – Conversation with Wife 52
2020.12.12 – The mouth breathers
2020.12.13 – There’s night
2020.12.13 – Sun gone, lights off
2020.12.13 – Last warm night of year

~ ~ ~

With plague
even the well intentioned
bring danger

~ ~ ~

Flayed Minion

Do dead dogs dream of electric meat?
Why is it trick, never treat?

Do rich itch from inner need
or just enjoy watching us bleed?

If space has end, what’s other side?
Will race ever blend till we’re of one mind?

Do prayers work when sang to the skies?
And why hasn’t God replied?

~ ~ ~

Conversation with Wife 52

A billion more people past 8 years.
“Where are they all coming from?”
Vaginas.
“Wow, must be a lot of vaginas.”
Yes especially in China.
“What?”
China vagina.

Think I’ll produce a car called the Slave,
that way we can all be Slave drivers.
“No.”
Make the front half black, back half white.
“That’s racist.”
Yes, a racist car… we can all go to the racists
and watch them circle the problem.
“I wouldn’t post that if I were you.”

~ ~ ~

The mouth breathers
keep telling me
which haiku to read

~ ~ ~

There’s night
there’s day
same coin

My beast within
barely lies below
my caution

Go ahead
starve your inner evil
it eats anyway

Best I can do
is pass the peace
and toke

Make it easier
on others

~ ~ ~

Sun gone, lights off
fire in fireplace
toke time

~ ~ ~

Last warm night of year
sitting by the fire pit
pipe in hand

 

not the 1958 Royal Teens

Thursday, December 10th, 2020

“who likes short shorts…” – The Royal Teens, 1958

2020.12.4 – Between the fire
2020.12.4 – The first to say
2020.12.5 – Lay back in too hot tub
2020.12.7 – Black
2020.12.7 – Shaking the fuzz
2020.12.7 – Silent echoes head
2020.12.7 – I’m not saying Walmart’s checkout is slow
2020.12.7 – Try to feed
2020.12.8 – Needle probing
2020.12.8 – Night’s not darker
2020.12.9 – Cat in lap
2020.12.9 – There’s this and that
2020.12.10 – Dogs lower their heads
2020.12.10 – The plague wind

~ ~ ~

Between the fire
and the forest
lies the flame

~ ~ ~

The first to say
“What’d you think of them apples?”
Was probably the snake in Eden.

~ ~ ~

Lay back in too hot tub
set time machine to one million years pre-being
push button
pull plug

~ ~ ~

Black
before sunrise, drinking coffee
black

~ ~ ~

Shaking the fuzz
heading for buzz
of morning’s first pipe

~ ~ ~

Silent echoes head
heavy holds heart
tiptoeing through dread
collecting the pretty parts

~ ~ ~

I’m not saying Walmart’s checkout is slow
but my green bananas ripened
while I waited

~ ~ ~

Try to feed
a sick cold hungry coyote
but it bolts in fear

~ ~ ~

Night’s not darker
than inside my head
and dawn’s a long way off

~ ~ ~

Cat on lap
rat in White House
I prefer purr

~ ~ ~

There’s this and that
some of the other
whatcha gonna do?

~ ~ ~

Dogs lower their head
wait, watch
cats control

~ ~ ~

The plague wind
brings masks, hand sanitizer
fear of fellow

 

wife… father… friend

Saturday, December 5th, 2020

“Wow! Smith has been counting, and he says that this visit to the Kitchen makes it five full years for him (60 months, 62 features)! He has chosen to share today’s post with Lady, plus his father, and collaborator Wendy Shaffer. As he puts it: wife… father… friend. Many thanks to him for those fine years of poetry with his intriguing visuals—and to his adept co-posters today for sharing their work!” – Kathy Kieth, editor/publisher Medusa’s Kitchen

1 poem by my father Pappy Smith, 3 by wife Lady Smith, 1 collab with friend Wendy Shaffer, and me.

http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2020/11/so-it-goes.html

5 year quantum count: 509 poems, 537 fotos, 31 songs

Next month Lady has 7 poems and 8 fotos in Medusa and another Wendy/Smith collab.

 

the shorts of it

Thursday, December 3rd, 2020

2020.11.29 – I can’t eat the sun
2020.12.1 – Cold rain on roof
2020.12.1 – Rain rapped roof
2020.12.2 – Winter storm
2020.12.3 – 4 a.m.
2020.12.3 – The sound of wind

~ ~ ~

I can’t eat the sun
but sure do see it feel it breathe it need it
oh to be an autotroph

~ ~ ~

Cold rain on roof
warm within
glad to know I’m glad

~ ~ ~

Rain rapped roof
calms brain
soothes soul

~ ~ ~

Winter storm
turns night
white

~ ~ ~

4 a.m.
to sunrise
my time

~ ~ ~

The sound of wind
rushing through trees
sky water

 

 
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