A delirium of talk
from my head to my heart
tight burn hollows of shoulders
dog breath, a panicked cat
bird in the throat
bird in the ear
bird in the eyes
bird brain
Friday night
~ Lady
The colophon of a book
of the paradise of my life – would
I let myself enjoy it – includes block print bees,
fruit trees, pineapples, haystacks and
wheat wreathes, mint juleps and distillations
cultural and otherwise, figures in almanacs
rendered into prizes for specimens shown
at a county fair
We could walk into this streaming sunshine logo, me and thee,
holding hands up to the curlicue of a wooden arch drizzled
in vine, ducking under leaf and grapes and other emblems
of harvest and civilization
Or we can walk into someplace wild named only
by calligraphic monks and keepers of words
glossy books of birds come to life
Summer morning before it gets hot
swallows divebombing us in plucky cheer
us alien in overgrown grasses of a nature
preserve, new eyes of animated stick figures
a children’s drawing taped
on my office cabinet
A bit like a nun up from
clean starched sheets worshiping
royal yellow emperor sun unfolding
its robes into the new day to the
plunking strum of Eralio Gill’s harp
somewhere out there a rose garden
in here blessed routine looking out our
green window I write poems, I visit my own home
live my canon law, the right to gently
carpe diem calmly ignore the coaxing
traffic whooshing outside which
wants me bureaucratic
quickly washed and frantic
I’ll sit in a breakfast lifestyle while
husband clinks ceramic plates on the table
and shuffles his slippers on the slate floor
My eyes are fresh in the homeland
perpetual novelty of butter
jam honey on toasted bread
~ Lady
Status Report 193
Ten years married
to the sweetest prize
I ever tried to lose
I wanted to be alone
in my twentieth year of celibacy
and she was way too young
My unwelcome mat
said GO AWAY in large letters
as she knocked my door
Finally gave in
knowing it couldn’t last
tried the ride
Ten years later
no one doing it better
we still walk as one
In what is but beginning
– Smith, 3.18.2016
We were married by a witch in the afternoon 10 years ago, and that evening hosted a group poetry reading at the benefit auction for the 25th Street Book Store at the punkish Inside Outside Gallery in the end of the building, then afterward invited the poets and artists and audience up to our studio for a wedding celebration party.
Conversation with Wife 22
1.
Your closed computer made noises last night,
bongs and dongs.
“Bongs and dongs?”
I meant bongs and gongs.
“I prefer bongs and dongs.”
I won’t touch bongs and dongs.
“Do you do bongs?”
I do do bongs, I don’t do dong.
2.
“I wonder who first made yeast bread?”
Yeasterners.
3.
“That cauliflower we stole from the field
in Croatia by the sea, remember how good it tasted
The Cauliflower of the Wild?”
Wasn’t that by Jack Lunchean?
4.
She says
“I need poems for my Spring issue of The City”
so I softly sing
My bedroom springs don’t work no more
I’m falling to the floor.
She turns to the group
“That’s what happens
when he gets his 3rd cup of coffee.”
5.
“We’re like dogs with money waiting to be fed.”
– Smith, 3.5.2016
Lady’s art in progress
Lady working on art
Be Mine, Virtual Valentine
Dawn soon to break
on love’s one winter day
but I say away
to just one
because love’s every day
mine to you
you to me
we to cat
cat sometimes to us
sometimes tooth blood claw
love driven to be forgiven
so happy me with you
happy you to me
happy three we
fine fluxation be
– Smith, 2.14.2016
cat waiting on water
One Soup to Rule Them All
I don’t cook
though I played one for six months
in County Jail lockup 1970
but wife is stressed and stretched and strung
with work hell so I’ve begun
making one large Dutch oven soup a week
to help feed and ease my she.
I’m good at it, find it fun.
My one recipe fits all –
for today’s chili
pour 1/4 cup olive oil in Dutch oven pan
finely chop 4 medium onions
4 carrots
4 stalks celery
11 sprigs parsley
add to pan
saute over medium flame with lid on
stirring frequently
add 1 pound fake meat soy protein mix
cook and stir 20 minutes
add 2 small cans kidney beans
1 small can black beans
1 large can diced tomatoes
couple shakes MSG, salt, black pepper
4 capfuls cream sherry
bit of water
pack of chili mix
bring to boil
lower flame and simmer 50 minutes
fill a blender with cooked beans and veggies
puree
pour back in
add frozen corn
simmer 30 minutes
eat.
Same basic flow for black bean soup
but replace chili mix with cumin
and fake meat with nothing
or navy bean soup with bay leaf and thyme
and smoked salt
or potato soup with spice of choice.
Soon I’ll can the cans
cook dry beans
cut and cook tomatoes.
Best navy bean soup I’ve had.
Pretty good chili.
Fine black bean.
Secret is simple –
more finely chopped veggies than you’d think
and slooooooow cooking.
Nature and chemistry do the rest.
– Smith, 2.9.2016
Lady has taken over the small family web design business, and trying to get a handle on scheduling 2-3 others, plus admin, plus customer relations, plus doing most of the billable coding is beating her down until she figures out the proper mix.
So I’ve also taken over most breakfasts with egg & muffin sandwiches alternating with oatmeal . . . the oatmeal’s extra tasty slow-cooked with milk, vanilla, and raisins, and sweetened with brown sugar and local maple syrup.
I already handle the laundry and dishes, as well as assorted shopping chores and errands, and usually the catbox. And I normally drive so Lady can work on her laptop or catch up on sleep in the passanger seat.
In a few weeks I’ll be 70. Strange trip. Started writing and singing blues lyrics at 56, took up romance with Lady at 59 after 20 years celibacy, and now becoming a cook in my late 60’s.
Who’da thunk it?
Status Report 78
It’s to the nine’s
cuz nine nine every September
brings another year with my Lady love
this being the tenth
our 1st decade
of love
friendship
playful companion for mind and body
body and soul
Strange daze of enigma and maze called Kathy
I named her Kafka’s Lady
which became Lady Kafka
then Lady K
as strange diluted to sane
as we looked in the mirror through day’s play
I plotted how to kill her stalker psycho Sam
should he appear with knife in hand
then killed my throat cancer instead
sold the studio
dispersed possessions
stored the art
took off
2 backpacks 10 countries 3 continents 31 months
England Holland Poland Croatia Italy France
Spain Morocco US Mexico
came back full of poems
fotos, art, love
and like enough to cheat death for you
since I’m heading for 100
I’m with the one I want
and the one I want’s with me
As I said before
it’s you or nobody Lady
and I prefer you
– Smith, 9.9.2015
Lady and I took up 10 years ago.
Gave her a ride to my reading of 9 short pieces on mom Mother Dwarf’s death two and a half months earlier, and afterward she came up to see the art and stayed, even though my unwelcome mat said GO AWAY and I was in my 20th year of self-imposed celibacy, proving once and for all that art and poetry can not only get you laid, but can catch a wife.
She brought drama.
There was her stalker psycho Sam who wanted to kidnap her and keep her in his closet and talked of murdering me because I took her away.
There was the firefighter poet who’d she’d left her husband for and now had left him to play the field with a cracked psychologist and psycho Sam and another old bearded poet and the occasional stranger . . . all who went away after me though none of them thought she was better off.
Two weeks later she moved in. Six months more we married, a day after her divorce was finalized. Four months after that we’d sold my studio, given away most the stuff, stored the artwork, and took off for Europe and Africa and Mexico for 31 months.
By the time we’d gotten back, we’d finished my memoir Stations of the Lost & Found, a True Tale of Armed Robbery, Stolen Cars, Outsider Art, Mutant Poetry, Underground Publishing, Robbing the cradle, and Leaving the Country by Smith & Lady (available online for $20, or $15 from us).
Now it’s time to write book two.
So happy 10th year of taking up, my love. Got a ways to go.
poets Lady, me, Tim Joyce – foto by poet M.J. Arcangelini
We took the first hour of 4 and manned the SPACES Gallery poetry tent across from the West Side Market yesterday. Folk would walk up, we’d ask their name, a few questions, then write a free poem for them. We wrote 18 in an hour, so we each had 7 minutes max to question, write, fotograf, and give. Fascinating process . . . fast, fun, little time for depth, more a process of impressionistic reportage.
It was a blast, especially due to the two children who received poems — our 1st customer was Audrey, 4-yrs old, who also took our spaghetti squash I’d drawn a funny face on.
Our first 4 folk had names starting with A, as did numbers 6, 7, and 12 so the A’s, about 4% of the alphabet, took 39% of our output.
Thanks to SPACES staff Mimi Kato and Marilyn Ladd-Simmons for their prep work, hosting, direction, and encouragement. And thanks to our friend, teacher, ceramicist, and neighbor Angelica Pozo for asking Lady & I to participate in this.
Pedestrian Poetry by the People, Smith shift, 2015
SPACES Gallery hosted a bazaar tent where folk could sit,
tell us their name, a bit about themselves. and we’d write
a quick poem for them. Lady & I had first shift 10-11 in hot
sun under blue sky in open air square across from the West
Side Market. First of 18 seekers was 4 yr old Audrey who
took the free spaghetti squash with a crazed face I had
drawn, then asked me to write “Sally” across the front.
AUDREY
Audrey who loves spaghetti squash
She named her “Sally”
It’s a beautiful blue day
Just as beautiful as Audrey
~
APRIL
Bright as month
of river running
sun shining
birds winging
~
ANN
A beautiful day
Sky-high with potential
Fresh start at the
West Side market
Weekend like going to
a restaurant & sharing
a bunch of appetizers
What more of a great
Start to September
Could one want?
~
AMIE
Because she said
she would
as she walked
in the sun
we did
(she was wearing a t-shirt that said
I Said I Would So I Did)
~
MITZI
Mitzie & Amie on a
hot as balls day
Bright blue sky
without even a trace
of contrail
Hot – like summer
finally purchasing claim
on its season
Today we have not a
care in the world
~
AL
Al & Amie & April
& Mitzi walking park
in sun with poem
people . . . .
may your flux be fine
~
ANGELA
While you’re in Cleveland
Catch the poetic wind by
chance
Like spiders strapping themselves
to a string of web
& leaping – wind carrying
them to a destination
Cool little city on a hot day
Bright blue promising sky
Like a present for everyone
– travel
~
TIPAKORN
Gorgeous name
carries wind of promise
adventure pure
in lands of sun
and shine
and light rain
(he mentioned after his name has to do with the sun)
~
BENJAPORN
It is a day
of special names,
beautiful names,
people flowers flowing
in market square . . .
sun rising
~
LILY
What a treasure to meet
an adventurer – Lily from
Thailand
Sky high in blue clarity
Crepes in hand, sweet-or-savory?
All I can do is draw from
my own memories of travel –
& of living in an unfamiliar
place
And then the pleasure of feeling
it slowly becoming my own
~
BLAKE
Blake from the up-down city of
Detroit – visiting the up=down
city of Cleveland
Both cities laden with urban
decay for urban explorers –
cities of salt, rust, and some
unmown grass
Promises in new construction,
kindled interest – monied interests –
we hold our own pockets open &
hope! For kinds of rain.
~
LYNN
For family & friends
and southeast side
excursion to the Market
and gathering of clan
circling the falling
to catch up with laughter
& learning in sum
~
AIDI
Eating bread from Market
in her stroller fair
blue eyes target
beneath golden hair
MEGAN
Artistic neighbors meet at
beloved community spot –
Market Square – food,
tents, people with a bit of
spare time
Megan & Aidi – sharing a
memory in the making Aidi
will remember the rest of
her life – these similar
moments – time with
Mom, the community of
female friends
~
STEVE
Steve to Steve
from Tampa to Cleveland
Welcome
may your flux flow
and feel be fine
cuz any friend of Rafeeq
is fine to find
~
JENNIFER
Welcome back, welcome back to
the puppy dog people of Cleveland
salt of the earth, prone to hellos
& self-deprecating answers
How familiarity is like a warm
bath, a kind of indulgence –
& maybe you are thinking, “Oh –
I can come home again – &
this is what it’s like!”
Cleveland-to-Tampa-to-Cleveland
again couple
~
LORETTA
From Toledo to the Market
with marriage down the road
Sun & sisters & folks
& friends
from art to food to friends
Welcome
to Cleveland
~
ELLIOTT
Familiar – from another northern
Ohio city – Toledo! So happy
to meet you, neighbors!
Like sausage gravy & biscuits –
Like where one is comfortable –
Sampling the degree of
separation from here to there –
Thinking – “We should do this
more again!”
Thinking – “So many places in
Ohio”
Taking life like seizing the day
– Smith & Lady, 9.5.2015
us with Amie & Mitzi – foto by Mimi Kato of SPACES Gallery
After our shift, Lady asked Mimi Kato to write a haiku in Japanese for Lady’s next online issue of TheCityPoetry.com. We are going to take time to test time to see how we find out what it means down the road.
Mimi Kato
Spaces presents
Pedestrian Poetry by the People
today Saturday Sept 5, 2015 from 10am-2pm at the open air Market Square Park across from the West Side Market.
Lady & I have the first shift from 10-11am in the Spaces tent. We’ll be sitting at a typewriter and type a free poem for anyone who sits down.
Here’s the schedule of poets:
10:00am – Smith & Lady
11:00am – Lee Chilcote, RA Washington
12:00pm – Dianne Borsenik
1:00pm – Christine Howey, Jayce Renner
Facebook event page: https://www.facebook.com/events/424515201091959/
Status Report 75
Wife is younger by two decade seven
The pluses are endless,
the love true
but two darks brew
I’m older sooner sicker frail finder
hence death is due to brew reminder
and she wonders how I can just sit and silent toke
and stare out window betting traffic color light
while she stresses struss of work
of life of love of irk
and I tell her truth
I did my stressin’ struttin’ fretful fussin’
in those 27 years of older
got most of it over
and done
now sitting willing in waiting sun
and her use
– Smith, 9.5.2015
