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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 ‘Poetry’ Category

6 recent poems

Wednesday, January 8th, 2020

A few recent poems (of many possibilities).

~ ~ ~

Rant and Roll

Gimme that TV I.V.
for vain in vein insane
gimme booze, sex, gambling
highline fashion
low blows
gimme local lobotomy
drill my lobal monstrosities
gimme gone
gimme go
gimme fast cars in red glow
neon no ones run low
jazz jumped slow
gimme want and went and wan
night in sight of sun
anything to numb
this shit world dumb
to doom due profits sons
in never pure
ever slippin’ strip stream whirl
gimme never when
back then
but get me gone
I don’t belong
nor do

~ ~ ~

A plethora
(hot bath, black coffee, a toke)
of pleasure

~ ~ ~

Lady Wife Lady Friend Lady Companion

Toothpicks in her glasses
twist ties on her boots

she’d walk a country mile
for a country egg
in a New York minute

smile local
go global

bless her suite of heart

~ ~ ~

May You Live in Interesting Times

There’s the known darkness
and the darkeness not yet known

The darkness within the dark
the darkness without

The dark that sparks revere
and dark that undermines the lark

Darkness at the edge of town
darkness all around

But is and isn’t run unclear
in the farce and fear of darkness here

~ ~ ~


Monkey man
take stick draw line in sand


as if we get to choose
our abuse

(though we do)

live poet on the line
dead poet in the ground

memory walking

~ ~ ~

The Sisyphus Effect

I tried to tell her
don’t get up
stay in bed
it’s a scam
another reality trick
they get you every time
first you wake up
then you sit up
step out of bed
and whammo
they got you
they make you do stuff
be things
go places
I told her
tried to warn her
but no
she’s up
doing yoga
making coffee
petting the cat
listening to Willie Nelson
caught again in the web of want
old debt new due
one more early worm demanding bird

~ ~ ~


add title

Friday, January 3rd, 2020

Rip Tide

Life’s a beach, and sand you die
sow reap rip sew sow reap rip sew so

Our car clock’s running slow
pretty soon we’ll be there before we leave
and won’t even have to go

I’ve realized global warming
is caused by too many hot babes,
and not enough cool cats
to lower their temperature.

It’s all telepathetic

– Smith 1.3.2020


random fotos w/o logic

Wednesday, January 1st, 2020

random fotos w/o logic


Elephant Things

Thursday, December 26th, 2019

Paper cutouts, opening credits
the indie film of my childhood,
Babar on paper waves, hands in pocket,
Babar visits where the wild things are

Gray-brown sweet potato skin,
walking trees, ears buoyant
as butterfly wings alien headcases
accentuate elephant cognition;
catch the taxonomist’s imagination

Under the preponderance of labrador
bonehead browline – alarmed lady eyes
in tree knots and whirls

Old women of the sepia planet
the knees and belly of the mother goddess
unexpected grossness of that mouth lip
labia jutting over the
blue water of murmuring shadow

When tusked, beast
the dark forest of the cerebellum
loping orchestration walking mud,
painterly pointing trunk, brain
for their own traditions,
not for us! Brain
for their own things

~ Lady


recent random fotos no connection no logic

Wednesday, December 18th, 2019


last month’s feature… + the 49 previous

Wednesday, December 4th, 2019

Thanks to publisher/editor Kathy Kieth of California, here is my November feature on Medusa’s Kitchen
the usual 10 fotos, 9 poems.

This makes 50 features in 48 months, 4 years of Medusa Smith.
(There’re 50 because 2 months I had a 2nd Sunday feature.)

420 poems, 448 fotos, 30 songs, 55 years – so far… here are their links.

December 2015 – Just Different Crazy

December 2015 – Creation Mist

January 2016 – Twixt Ape and Angel

February 2016 – Poems from Six Decades

March 2016 – Status Report

April 2016 – Food in, Food Out

May 2016 – Dung or Diamond

June 2016 – Truth du Jour

July 2016 – A Past That’s Worth Hiding

August 2016 – Looking for the Nice in the Nasty

September 2016 – This Garden Uneven

October 2016 – Those Ghosts In-Between

November 2016 – Bring Back the Snake

December 2017 – Our Lonely Orbitsong

December 2017 – News From the Great Gauze

January 2017 – $uper$eeking

February 2017 – Right Left of Wrong

March 2017 – Up, As in Barking

April 2017 – Lady K

May 2017 – Temple of Hope

June 2017 – They Call Me Bone

July 2017 – He’s Alive!!!!

August 2017 – Fair is Fair

September 2017 – Incest in Sky

October 2017 – Blues in my Pockets

November 2017 – My Voice Raised in Bell & Chime

December 2017 – Just Cuz: Mirrors & Moments

Jaunuary 2018 – Rainingn Cats & Gods

February 2018 – Gung Hay Fat Choy

March 2018 – In the Beginnings

April 2018 – Entropy’s Rain

May 2018 – Flight Plans

June 2018 – Ghosts of Thyme

July 2018 – They Own Your Ass

August 2018 – Status Report & Spirit Juice

September 2018 – Used Ego for Rent

October 2018 – Sometime Won, Sometimes Lost

November 2018 – The Sun Always Rises

December 2018 – Unreined, Dear

January 2019 – Hope’s Possible

February 2019 – Be What it Will

March 2019 – Becoming One with One

April 2018 – Fracking the Flux

May 2018 – Cool and Sly

June 2019 – Gotta Try

July 2019 – Doing Time

August 2019 – Dark Questionables

September 2019 – Sisyphus Rocks ‘n Rolls

October 2019 – Let There Be Light, Momma

November 2019 – Bluebird of Happenstance


Rufus Thomas, Bill Haley, Alice Cooper, Flo & Eddie, Tiny Tim, Paul Williams, Meat Beat Manifesto, Alex Patterson

Friday, October 25th, 2019

My October feature on Medusa’s Kitchen – 1 long poem written with Lady, 1 haiku-ish, 10 fotos.

“Smith sends us his ode to his interview career, full of his usual bump and grind and look-backs into the past—rosy and not-so-rosy—with the help of his fine Lady. Thanks, Smith and Lady; you two kids keep ‘em coming! (And thanks for the pre-Halloween visions of yourself, Steven! Spooooky!)” – Kathy Kieth, editor/publisher Medusa’s Kitchen/Rattlesnake Press.

My adventures with Rufus Thomas, Bill Haley, Alice Cooper, Flo & Eddie of The Turtles, Tiny Tim, Paul Williams, Jack Dangers & Meat Beat Manifesto, and Alex Patterson of Orb – 1964-1997


Lady’s latest – Rage

Wednesday, October 23rd, 2019


We’ve titillated ourselves with our absolutism
as contrary as a self-mutilating Texas Chainsaw Massacre
creep zapping and eating his own scalp skin, fingers in the chili
It’s all of us, it’s some of us, it’s raw, raw, raw.

It’s enough when the lint and the dimes in the pockets
yield no dividends, no fountain of generous obliviousness,
it’s enough when the water is yellow and smells funny,
when your parents did not have enough money to fix you
and you do not have enough money to have kids to fix
and kids are in the prison of disregard – and in prisons
it’s enough to flip the burger
of a mind to something that can crank, crank this
into better shape, please, that mind burger. Eat it with
some red leaf lettuce, raw onions, local cheese. Fuck
the pink slime. Fuck the Russians, fuck my hate I want
to mash it with a morter and pestle.
I want to unfuck this fuckedness with big fat fists,
hope the saying of it is a cauterization and catharsis,
hope hope hope.

– Lady, 10.20.2019


66 Basho talked to me

Tuesday, October 22nd, 2019

66 Basho from The Complete Haiku
translated, anointed, introduction by Jane Reichhold
Kodansha USA 2008 – original artwork by Shiro Tsujimura
Basho 1644-1694

Inside the temple
visitors cannot know
cherries are blooming

(36 of 1012, 1670)


Tomorrow the rice dumpling
will be just dead reed leaves
with a dream

(76 of 1012, 1677)


Scudding clouds
as a dog pisses while running
scattered winter showers

(86 of 1012, 1677)


On a bare branch
a crow settled down
autumn evening

(120 of 1012, 1680)


Dew on roses
the rapeseed flowers’ faces
become envious

(132 of 1012, 1681?)


The crane’s legs
have gotten shorter
with the spring rain

(136 of 1012, 1681)


Fully in darkness
grabbing a thorn
instead of a firefly

(137 of 1012, 1681)


Old pond
a frog jumps into
the sound of water

(152 of 1012, 1681-82)


Dew drips drips
wanting to rinse away
the dust of this world

(206 of 1012, 1684?)


Even a long day
is not enough for the singing
of a skylark

(304 of 1012, 1687)


In the middle of a field
with nothing to cling to
a skylark sings

(305 of 1012, 1687)


A peasant’s child
stops hulling rice
gazes at the moon

(314 of 1012, 1687)


Winter sun
frozen on horseback
the priest’s shadow

(332 of 1012, 1687)


On snow and sand
you can fall off a horse
drunk on wine

(334 of 1012, 1687)


First celebrate
the flowers in your heart
confined in winter

(341 of 1012, 1687)


With young leaves
I would like to wipe away
the tears in your eyes

(396 of 1012, 1688)


Early autumn
the sea and rice fields
one green

(443 of 1012, 1688)


Various grasses
each flower
an achievement

(444 of 1012, 1688)


Travel weary
how many days of this?
autumn wind

(447 of 1012, 1688)


Seeing someone off
his back looks lonely
in the autumn wind

(448 of 1012, 1688)


Spring departing
birds cry and in the fishes’
eyes are tears

(497 of 1012, 1689)


Heat threads
tie together
to hold the smoke

(498 of 1012, 1689)


How glorious
young green leaves
flash in the sun

(502 of 1012, 1689)


Fleas and lice
now a horse pisses
by my pillow

(531 of 1012, 1689)


Not permitted to tell
how sleeves are wetted
in the bathroom

(548 of 1012, 1689)


Small flower scraps
small red-beauty shells
small wine cups

(597 of 1012, 1689)


A clam
torn from its shell
departing autumn

(600 of 1012, 1689)


First winter rain
even the monkey seems to want
a little straw raincoat

(613 of 1012, 1689)


Not yet a butterfly
even as autumn passes
the caterpillar

(614 of 1012, 1689)


Winter garden
the moon and insects’ song
a thin thread

(616 of 1012, 1689)


Now children
come run among jewels

(619 of 1012, 1689)


Butterfly wings
how many times have they flown
over the wall’s roof

(637 of 1012, 1690)


Day break
not yet lavender
the cuckoo

(645 of 1012, 1690)


Missing a wife
putting on bamboo grass

(647 of 1012, 1690)


Don’t be like me
even though we’re like the melon
split in two

(659 of 1012, 1690)


A dragonfly
unable to settle
on the grass

(660 of 1012, 1690)


A wild bore
it is also blown about
by the typhoon

(661 of 1012, 1690)


At my house
the smallest of the mosquitoes
is my treat

(662 of 1012, 1690)


Soon to die
yet showing no sign
the cicada’s voice

(663 of 1012, 1690)


Drinking morning tea
the monk is quiet
as is the mum flower

(678 of 1012, 1690)


With lightning
one is not enlightened
how valuable

(685 of 1012, 1690)


Building a bridge
between snow-covered mountains
white egrets

(695 of 1012, 1690)


Year after year
the cherry tree nourished by
fallen blossoms

(709 of 1012, 1691)


Summer rain
where the poem card peeled off
a mark on the wall

(716 of 1012, 1691)


For a while
flowers are above
the night’s moon

(719 of 1012, 1691)


hung on a nail
a cricket

(738 of 1012, 1691)


The hawk’s eye
already it has darkened
the quail call

(752 of 1012, 1691)


Feeling holy
the leaves that stain
fallen leaves

(762 of 1012, 1691)


Memorial Service
five gallons of sake
like oil

(808 of 1012, 1692)


Year after year
the monkey wearing
a monkey mask

(816 of 1012, 1693)


Ice fish
their dark eyes are open
in the net of the law

(822 of 1012, 1693)


Baby sparrows
exchange voices with
rats in the nest

(891 of 1012, 1694)


Life’s journey
plowing the patch of rice field
back and forth

(934 of 1012, 1694)


Flowers and fruit
at the same time melons
at their peak

(941 of 1012, 1694)


exactly as a pine in the fields
the shape of a branch

(944 of 1012, 1694)


Pine and cedar
to admire the wind
smell the sound

(963 of 1012, 1694)


Rippling waves
the fragrance of wind
in their rhythm

(964 of 1012, 1694)


My dwelling
the moon’s square of light
at the window

(980 of 1012, 1694)


Under a clear moon
the foothills’ mist
is the field’s cloud

(982 of 1012, 1694)


The color of wind
planted artlessly
in an autumn garden

(985 of 1012, 1694)


A cricket
does it get into the bed of
a wild boar

(998 of 1012, 1694)


How pleasurable
sleeping late in autumn
as if master of the house

(999 of 1012, 1694)


Autumn night
dashed to bits
by conversation

(1004 of 1012, 1694)


This road
that no one goes on
autumn’s departure

(1006 of 1012, 1694)


Ill on a journey
dreams in a withered field
wander around

(1011 of 1012, 1694)


Clear cascade
scattered on the waves
green pine needles

(1012 of 1012, 1694)


Smith – 9 poems, 10 fotos, Medusa’s Kitchen

Saturday, September 28th, 2019

“A big thank-you this morning to Smith from Cleveland (Steven B. Smith) for his musical, mythical land of poetry and his eye-popping visuals. “Cool Cat Copacetic”, for sure!.” – Kathy Kieth, editor/publisher of Medusa’s Kitchen/Rattlesnake Press.

1st foto below waaaay too large to show but I like the distortion… correct sized foto beneath it.



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