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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 the ‘Lady’ Category

Yes, erumpent fireflies warmed hands

Sunday, January 13th, 2019

Yes, erumpent fireflies warmed hands
on xanthous flames fireplaced in a
viperiform damascene hagioscope
gripping the reredos

Girandoled discoball constellations
yogiboogeyboarded swimming pool lights,
dog and ponied interstices of the ceiling joists
zoopraxiscoped herds of variegated animals,
the alopecoid and hares, all manners
of dazzling English animals

The nickle nutlets of teeth in
jellygraph gloss of a dead lamb’s grin,
closed eyelids, japan painted blunt nose
nuque broke, visceral ladled nup of bent innocent colliform
draped on a chair, the Inuit their kamiks

Corpulant agriculture was fecund
on plates we left for morning after Christmas,
wastive abundance, frapped humanity
in ruddy hardihood consecrated by
the rabbi we called in;
the comrade donned a biretta
the webster sat under the vesper
it was a mixed bag, fingers bewildered in
nodated whatevers, que sera sera-ing,
the cows munched their kerf
it was ok it was the weather

The validity of vermiculture,
of worksome insects typing logopedics,
rosining translucent violins withily weaving
wirewove niello of the organized whole

~ Lady

 

a Lady, 1 me, Medusa 37

Sunday, January 6th, 2019

My December feature on Medusa’s Kitchen – 9 poems, 10 fotos.

Thanks to editor/publisher Kathy Kieth for the monthly gig. This is month 37.

http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2018/12/unreined-dear.html

~ ~ ~

Here are the Lady K & Smith poems (1 each) written for Rufus last month. Rufus is our monthly poetry workshop that’s been going for decades. December’s included host Wendy Shaffer, Jack McGuane, Linda New, Russell Vidrick, Terry Provost, Lady K, and me. Jack’s the oldest at 91 or so, Lady K probably the youngest at 46.

First poem by Lady K.

~ ~ ~

Peace like paesano bread, ecphasis,
aegis, sacrament for serenity to hold off
venerers in the zebroid woods who
salt livers and kidneys on the sindon,
cast clean picked flageolets from the inglenook
to the midden, worser natures abluting
xerotic throats with pure
fidicinal zegedines

The beele quains the
glomerate chattering diamond
damned inesculent mechanomorphic lotus!

Fresh kerfed ravelins
are thrown on the compost pile
the worms puzzle it into trichroic castings
gastrolith for the innominate’s neogenesis

Crows dig doggedly
at a nubigenous bandaeau the zumbadors
ushered to garland the pomiferous
virgultum

– Lady K

~ ~ ~

Anthropocened

I was born in Dead Leaf Montana
raised near Brown Grass Gone
my momma loved walking the ridges
daddy was the Devil’s son
ate insects in swamp water for dinner
for fun watched roadkill drying in dawn
trying to catch our breath
as pus oozed from corporate spawn
so took what we could from the dying earth
knowing we wouldn’t be here long

– Smith

 

2 Smith & Lady art heart collaborations

Monday, December 17th, 2018

Piece on left is Heart Chakra by Smith & Lady, 12″ x 12″ x 2.5″, 2018, for U + ME = GLITTER group show at Doubting Thomas Gallery Februweary 8-23, 2019 – curated by Joanie Deveney aka Joan of Art. The Minnie Mouse is from 1965.

Piece on right is Art Heart by Smith & Lady, 2014, 11″ x 11″, done for a previous Joanie Deveney group Valentine show.










 

10 art pieces by Lady K 10-12.2018

Sunday, December 16th, 2018


by Lady K, 20″ x 24″

These are pieces Lady K’s worked on since October.

She has a tendency not to sign, title, or date her pieces (something I found I regretted whenever I did it), but all these except the last are based on sea creatures (tho I see alien genitalia as well), perhaps in the Mariana Trench. Many of the 3-dimensional forms are clay. All the blue is copper corrosion, the orange/brown coming through the blue is rust.


by Lady K, 20″ x 24″

by Lady K, 4″ x 6″ & 6″ x 6″

by Lady K, 8″ x 8″ (work in progress)

by Lady K, 8″ x 8″ (work in progress)

by Lady K, 6″ x 6″ & 8″ x 8″ (works in progress)

by Lady K, 8″ x 8″ (work in progress)

by Lady K, 6″ x 6″ (work in progress)

by Lady K, 19″ x 23″ x 6″

by Lady K, 19″ x 23″ x 6″

by Lady K, 4″ x 6″ & 5″ x 6″

by Lady K, 5″ x 6″

by Lady K, 6″ x 6″

by Lady K, 8″ x 8″ (work in progress)

 

the Lady, the Dick, and the Liar

Wednesday, October 31st, 2018

This is a 3-fer – the Lady, the Dick, and the Liar.

~ ~ ~

Here is Lady K’s poem written last Saturday in the hour before our monthly poetry workshop called Rufus, run by poet Wendy Shaffer.

Rufus is 6-10 friends sitting in a circle around coffee and bagels sharing 1 new poem each for feedback, and has been going on longer than Lady & I (and we’re in our 14th year).

Rufus includes 3 of my favorite poets – Wendy Shaffer, Russell Vidrick, and Lady K. Smith.

Stone soup is, according to Wikipedia, “an old folk story in which hungry strangers convince the people of a town to each share a small amount of their food in order to make a meal that everyone enjoys, and exists as a moral regarding the value of sharing. In varying traditions, the stone has been replaced with other common inedible objects, and therefore the fable is also known as axe soup, button soup, nail soup, and wood soup.” Love the concept.

RUFUS
by Lady K, 10.27.2018

Let’s meet at the the crossroads, I’ll bring a
stone. someone some magic beans, and one a
string from their pocket, and someone a
clock

The cat will bring some cheese, the mouse
will bring some cream, the clock will bring
its hands, and we will make some time

We’ll tie our shoes with patience and button
up our ironed shirts, flashes of the pinks
from filed nails on worried-over hands, what
our barber has made of us this moon.

Harvest conjures measure. This is the time
for apples and carrots, for potatoes and
pumpkins and Mother Goose’s cobbled shoes.

This is the time for the reunion of friends these
words are candles in the closing tilting
cabbage of year each other like a yardstick
turning in measured postures we are, the grace
of our liquid profiles, the loping of shoulders,
and years are offspring of old who have gone
their whimsical way while we, we turn as houses
in each other, seasons housed in us, how I
looked last year, how I look this year, how I
look again, squinting through the sleeping dark
at the blurry clock through years and years.

The solace of friends, friends, this is our
solace, survivors of time’s laminating palimpsests
over memories until the poignancy of a turn
uncovered, the clear mirror of each other through
the madeleine of crisp seen huffs of breath in
huddled sky, we are characters of favorite books
meet in knit caps, we ladle out the stories and
make stone stew.

~ ~ ~

Just reread The Man in the High Castle by Philip K Dick (1962) and found it much better than I remembered from 40 years ago, though it doesn’t seem to have much similarity to the TV series. Now rereading Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep? for the first time since they turned it into Bladerunner in 1982 – he died just before it came out, but I read he had seen it in a studio showing especially for him.

Bladerunner is better than Sheep.

The man might have the most titles turned into film/TV… though Shakespeare could be competitive with his 37 plays.

Philip K. Dick 1928-1982.

Second Variety, 1953, shortstory, Screamers, 1995 movie
Paycheck, 1953, shortstory, Paycheck, 2003 movie
Imposter, 1953, shortstory, Out Of This World, 1962 TV
Imposter, 1953, shortstory, Imposter, 2002 movie
The Hood Maker, 1953, shortstory, Philip K Dick’s Electric Dreams, 2017 TV
The Commuter, 1953, shortstory, Philip K Dick’s Electric Dreams, 2017 TV
The Hanging Stranger, 1953, shortstory, Philip K Dick’s Electric Dreams, 2017 TV
Sales Pitch, 1954, shortstory, Philip K Dick’s Electric Dreams, 2017 TV
Exhibit Piece, 1954, shortstory, Philip K Dick’s Electric Dreams, 2017 TV
The Father Thing, 1954, shortstory, Philip K Dick’s Electric Dreams, 2017
Adjustment Team, 1954, shortstory, The Adjustment Bureau, 2011 movie
The Golden Man, 1954, shortstory, Next, 2007 movie
The Crystal Crypt, 1954, shortstory, The Crystal Crypt, 2013 movie
The Impossible Planet, 1955, shortstory, Philip K Dick’s Electric Dreams, 2017 TV
Human Is, 1955, shortstory, Philip K Dick’s Electric Dreams, 2017 TV
Autofac, 1955, shortstory, Philip K Dick’s Electric Dreams, 2017 TV
Foster, You’re Dead!, 1955, shortstory, Philip K Dick’s Electric Dreams, 2017 TV
The Minority Report, 1956, shortstory, Minority Report 2002 movie
The Minority Report, 1956, shortstory, Minority Report 2015 TV
The Man In The High Castle, 1962, novel, The Man In The High Castle 2015 TV
We Can Remember It For You Wholesale, 1966, shortstory, Total Recall, 1990 movie
We Can Remember It For You Wholesale, 1966, shortstory, Total Recall 2070, 1999 TV
We Can Remember It For You Wholesale, 1966, shortstory, Total Recall, 2012 movie
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, 1968, novel, Bladerunner, 1982 movie
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, 1968, novel, Bladerunner 2049, 2017 movie
Confessions of a Crap Artist, 1975, Confessions d’un Barjo, 1992 movie
Radio Free Albemuth, 1976, novel, Radio Free Albemuth, 2008 movie
A Scanner Darkly, 1977, novel, A Scanner Darkly, 2006 movie

plus some short films like Piper in the Woods 2016 7 minutes from 1953 short story

~ ~ ~

While I have not read of a single decent person ever saying a good thing Trump has done, I have seen that he has publicly been accused of 3 rapes (one of a 13 yr-old), of stealing from his vendors, cheating on his taxes, cheating on his wives, laundering money for both the Russian and the American mobs, of treason, racism, misogyny, xenophobia, homophobia, destroying evidence, voter fraud, stealing from charity, of being a genuinely shitty person, and of siring Trump thug junior 1, Trump thug junior 2, and Trump thug daughter who’s married to a Trump thug wanna-be… I dream of Trump and his Klueless Kluck Klan of a family in jail, without bail, all in one cell with no food – the deal being the last one left uneaten gets to be put in a cage and floated out to sea.

 

Friday Night

Friday, July 6th, 2018

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

 

Lady K eye cancer news (basically good)

Wednesday, June 27th, 2018






Lady had her extremely rare (1 out of 2,000,000) eye cancer tumor radiated March 2017.

Then in March 2018 she had cataract surgery for that eye since the radiation worsened the cataracts.

For two month she had great vision, better than in years, but now her retina is swelling from radiation damage so they stuck a needle in her eye yesterday to give her a shot of steroids.

The tumor’s dying. Catscans say it has not spread, and is extremely unlikely to.

So now it’s a cat and mouse game of healing her eye from radiation damage.

Last foto is skylight at Cole Eye Institute up at Cleveland Clinic.

 

catch up catsup ketchup

Monday, June 4th, 2018

Last posted a new poem April 7th… I’ve 40 poems since then unblogged. Think I’ll post 6 a day to catch up.

Hard to blog lately. The blatant evil rampant in the Republican party and the 62.96 million who voted for Trump and the egregious racism and greed shown since are getting to me. Never expected a lot from people, but I expected more decency than this.

Here’s Lady’s latest poem from June 2.

~ ~ ~

“You’re Prickly Pear’s Paramour.”

Remember when we were in Morocco?
Remember when you carried me on the
roof by the parapet?

“Were i Spider-Man I would whishhh my hands
over to you and tear your blouse off,
that’s what I’d do, touch the tips
of nipples where the milk used to be”

You have a serpent’s tongue slithering out

“We’re all innocent –
the serpent’s innocent, the mongoose
is innocent
but one of them’s going to win
I’m not even positive it’s nice
to eat vegetables. They might have
tiny little tomato screams. Rhubarb
might be begging for its life
lawnmower out there sounds like
big angry fly
looking for some shit”

You are just so many facets…

“Yeah, there’s the hot water facet,
the cold water facet”

~ ~ ~

and my most recent 6, from 5.15-6.4.2018.

~ ~ ~

Splice of Life

The panicked deer
desperate
dashes three westbound lanes
of 60 mile-per-hour expressway
that no one’s obeying
and with quick wit luck
leaps triumphant the concrete divider
success surging through brain
when SPLATTT
eastbound truck paints partition red.

And yet
she dies in dance of joy
euphoric escape last taste of fate
which rebirth
reshapes as joy over hate.

Live on edge, die on edge,
happy way go round.

And then of course there’s slo-mo-go,
the easier way to roll.

But is it?

~ ~ ~

Philosophy 172

I been working in the quandary
wandering my weird wrong way

If you go when you’re happy
take happy with you

If you go when you’re sad
leave sad behind

Count sheep if you will,
just don’t look in the mirror

~ ~ ~

Zen Box

Kneeling on the floor
before the cat box
removing clayed clumps of piss
and dried shit
then smoothing the surface
I realize this is my Zen sand garden
the urine my sins against others
the shit my sins against myself
the baking soda confession and forgiveness
for past’s smell
so I start new day new
clean
free
knowing I’ll be on my knees again tomorrow
for same old shit

~ ~ ~

Fork U

Washed the dishes

past 24 hours we used
3 tablespoons
1 teaspoon
3 knives
8 forks

one tablespoon and knife every 8 hours
one fork for 3
one teaspoon per 24

could be clue
I mean, 1 goes into 24 24 times

would make a good poem
if I knew where to go

all moments are interesting
not all poetic

and are

~ ~ ~

Conversation with Wife 41

I need to write a poem.
I feel better after writing a poem.

“Then write one.”

I don’t have any poem words.
I don’t have any poem pen.
I don’t have any poem paper.
I’ve got shit and toilet paper, that’s what I got.

There, there’s your poem.

~ ~ ~

Sisyphus Sum

It’s hot with strain of ache and pain
this pushing rock up hill
in another day of try and loss
no hope of less
so grasp what’s good
like chirp of bird
and glint of sun
or inchworm on my arm
sometimes a cloud will move just right
or drop of sweat catch the light
as lack brings laugh
and loss a like
such sips quench my worse

 

Good Friday Lady Poem

Friday, March 30th, 2018

Discrete blades of crocus
gleam older lizard slivers against
Easter egg grass

Tree bird
coaxes sweet revolution
from the branches of marbled clouds
pearl in its warble telling of the oyster
at the garden gate
open maw honey tide
mellow rosin sun

Far away from lead and stained glass
Mulatu Astatke pops up on the radio
i faram i faram
permutations of rainbow cloth
carrying cross in coptic lands
warm feet on cold plateau
to the temple of the living rock

 

Lady Poems on some March days

Wednesday, March 28th, 2018

It’s Going to Be a Beautiful Day

Cat’s hours crouching for a mouse
in the kitchen under the dishwasher
maybe most of night I think as
making coffee to Sun Ra

Miles Davis plays in a silent way
Our hanging crystals in the window
hint at the day’s sparkling potentialities

Sunday a.m. moment between here
and there’s doorway where
light glows from ebb of ember

“Every Sunday’s Easter,” I think
and God responds with a magnificent
spread of light on our dirty window
calling and responding

Husband sees it too, says oo
Then sun goes away, “How dare
that sun go away,” he says, and then
“but actually it didn’t go away
the clouds merely blocked it,
right?”

And they lived happily ever after’s
embroidered on our pillow I tell him

“OK, fair enough,” he says.

A silence presses my ear, which is startled
at the quick and subtle answer from
an unexpected calculator taking note

The vastness of roar and silence
leaves one to a soup of thought,
worked over flagellation

“How are you?” husband asks, and I’m
keen now to leaving myself a comfortable mote
in the torrent

Our guppy quivers in the tank, the male guppy
her ever-present satellite, the banner
of his hippie tail happy to be near her

On our early morning soundtrack choirboys sing
sober remnant whispers of vespers

Traffic splashes in the early morning spring dark
the aftermath of rain’s laid diamonds
on our storm window

When the deal goes down
gonna sit here, before dawn
fishtank light on, our ever-present
Christmas lights silently festive
no computer on my lap,
listen to Chet Atkins chirping
to our slowly twirling
window crystals

The muffled tick of husband’s recliner
he shifts position and crunches
his early a.m. cashews

Black cat wanders cheerful
in the dark

 

 
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