why, oh God
has poetry always lived
next door to poverty

why is poetry not relied upon more
drugs and alcohol
relied upon less


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
8:35 a.m. 20/april/07


earth is a marble,
as delicate as an eye, ours now

not cracked,
unscorched, unscratched,
passed to us in tact

we too must pass it on
instead we step on it


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:24 p.m. 25/april/07



woman I’m as comfortable
in or in with as I am out or out with

I seek one someone to go with

for too long, going with some one
I’m reluctant or outright ashamed
to be seen with

what a fix this is, what a fix I’m in,
I’ve been in, half of all my days


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
9:09 p.m. 25/april/07



cold cheese on hot, homemade bread,
sweating like lovers in bed


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:22 a.m. 14/april/07


Lord God, I’m happy

I must take a deep breath,
must breathe normally

no need hold my breath, awaiting Godot
happiness here with me/within me/beside me

must avoid being besides myself with joy
must sip what I have, must make it last

laugh too loud, I crack, fall apart,
collapse into sadness/into forlorn,
fall once again into emotional hard times

wish good times to roll and never cease
like the Ginger Bread Man


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:40 a.m. 18/april/07



sea gulls soaked in the rain
upon the dock
as still as if dead

others skillful, fearless,
fishing the choppy harbor waters

upon the dock they alight
or flapping their wings,
come to life and fly off


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:27 p.m. 12/april/07