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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,
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Archive for the ‘Peace’ Category

Lady Poem 6/4/2016

Saturday, June 4th, 2016

Tracery

Beyond the failed utopia
the witch of the high wind
lifted up her hem

Loosed genies spilled fractals
sitars traced the cosmic mandala
and adults admitted memories
of dragon realms

Horns sauntered horses
from choruses of island muses
to the polyrhythmic noodles
and multiple loaming shadows
of ethiopian jazz

~ Lady

 

Lady Poem 6/2/2016

Thursday, June 2nd, 2016

Sometimes I would just like a light rusk
dipped into black coffee
to pause and not do anything
not even meditate
in this early morning space
communion with simplicity
sans any ideas about it

~ Lady

 

May 6, 2016 Lady Poem

Friday, May 6th, 2016

Attende Domine

Worms crawl in the ground
all sacred, the ground – and oh why
do I forget to walk on it

Decorative prisms
hang in the window barrier to my
filigree tree with its own ornaments,
wintered sycamore pods

Sparkling wings fling the sky
past its branches

Birdsong garland
cheerful honey to my ears

And the sun put
a rainbow in my husband’s eyes

~ Lady

 

May 5, 2016 Lady Poem

Thursday, May 5th, 2016

May 5

Billions of people but
my city seems so finite

The moon and the stars
the hows and whys we don’t know
like early discoveries of tight songs
low hanging fruit

Similes and sights easier to say
eating an apple, not knowing
how it’s made

~ Lady

 

Lady Poem – July 10, 2015

Friday, July 10th, 2015

 

Men as beautiful as women
Flash of earring, hair straight as
train rail, reality of an individual’s hand
musing a feather like a fan dance by Martha Graham
entree to walk in the secret garden
of thought, love quest echoing
in canyons, mind calling soul

Some people call it the happiest place on earth,
those who lived in Paradise Valley, Yamosöpö tuviwarai,
before clash of Paiute and Spanish, slave traffic
melding into the fusion of their children
like sand falling from story-telling hands
strange comfort of syncretism
over centuries

~ Lady

 

 

Ready – Lady Poem 6/11/2015

Thursday, June 11th, 2015

 

Whim steps to garden path
Growth loads jewelweed’s spring
Wood’s xylem shades us

~ Lady

 

 

BITS OF MOVING DUST

Saturday, May 30th, 2015

 

Ancestors
of part of an agrarian past
holding baskets of now
heirloom produce–
the tomato
and smiling forever

Or in tall, dignified finery
in an ancient hall, kind of slow
and lacking in color

Or in an exhale
let into relaxed
and painless air
sans worry

And there’s us
too often with our calculators
days locked inside brains

Or better sometimes, looking
and listening

All of it, living and past–

Connected
to everything on the backdrop
of the cosmos – deeper and deeper
starry mirror

Us
clumping together
bits of moving dust
in sentient host

~ Lady

 

 

Gracias

Thursday, May 21st, 2015

 

Gracias

Roses spilling blooming fountains
blossoming from hand, ribbons dangling down
tokens appreciating life during rites
of life

Where did roses come from? How is it
they are so beautiful, so cultivated?
Did The Universe know they would be
prized and make them, these queens
of flowers?

Or is it just that we decided–an elevation
of taste like chrysanthemums
in Asia?

Birds sing signalling redemption,
this new day, this new season
deliveries of fresh dawns
relentless freshness

And their lungs,
so many varied synrinx whistles
warbling signature songs through
music box throats–

What shape the key but
a kind of sheer permeating cheer?

~ Lady

 

 

Lady Poem – May 16, 2015

Saturday, May 16th, 2015

 

Hinted reality
ancient spirit, ancestor breath
grazing flowers, batting lightly,
sighing with memories

Petal confetti, celebratory leaves
marking sloughs of years, one’s
perennialism hastening and plumping,
bruising and shrinking, crinkling to paper,
eaten by the reach of ground and
hunkering into dormancy, germ
starting over again

~ Lady

 

 

Lady Poem May 11, 2015

Monday, May 11th, 2015

 

Thuvian throatsong, patter of Cherokee drums,
congregation of tents, comfortable nests of campfire
communities, dogs settled in the dirt thumping tails
once in a while, watching, trusting, us on our beat-up
old couch surrounded by third floor art–so many centers
of the world in their own sweet ways
so thankful

~ Lady

 

 

 
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