Dirty Ear
for E.C.
some dutty noise,
some duttiness,
some dutty mess
always dirtying the atmosphere
in the ghetto
some people in a gathering,
in a group
wherever they are
wherever they go
without education
without moral principles
self-centred instead of
loving their neighbour as themselves
would create ghetto
wherever they stand
or sleep or sit
wherever they go
wherever they are
no more than a place to shit
what am I doing among them
in prayer, in song
penning psalms
in a strange land
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:12 p.m. 25/may07
for E.C.
some dutty noise,
some duttiness,
some dutty mess
always dirtying the atmosphere
in the ghetto
some people in a gathering,
in a group
wherever they are
wherever they go
without education
without moral principles
self-centred instead of
loving their neighbour as themselves
would create ghetto
wherever they stand
or sleep or sit
wherever they go
wherever they are
no more than a place to shit
what am I doing among them
in prayer, in song
penning psalms
in a strange land
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:12 p.m. 25/may07
posted by Obie Quiet at 8:04 PM
6 Comments:
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Great observation...I often think I'm out of place here and elsewhere.
I Sang to some seniors the other day and a young man doing 'community' school (a guess part of his program) was more interested in making me aware that he had an ipod and can break dance better than I can sing and play the guitar.
Normally, I would try to win him over to my way of caring but thought quite selfishly why bother..I was not there for him at all and he probably needed to offer to make some of these old folks some tea..another thought was it was good for him to know that we do have a responsibility to care about things other than our selves..i suspect it is our duty to keep on rockin' These young folks probaly are watching you and you are making some kind of impact (it can only be a positive one)
DAwn
...after a night's rest ...sorry I was tired. I shoud try be more impersonal with my comments...about the poem..a delicate play with words. I should have made the distinction between author and the 'voice'. Much of the images evoke a sense of loss and alienation. The anger in the poem seems to come from within and out. Amari Baraka's recurring theme of an urban 'wasteland' and alienation. Like him you echo this deep sense of loss and individual decay. Your poems now seem to reflect not only a centre but I sense a deeper reach within. The river is both deep and wide. Thanks...dawn
dvh: these remarks - connections are very helpful - help me to get my mind around me - to get a better, firmer grip of my pen - lessen the need to masturbate in futility...at all/as much...we'll see. God rescue us - rescue me. May he send us RIGHT relationships - with him, ourselves, our community and romantically.
You are an artist ..if I could have helped anyone understand that ..I would bottle it and make billions of dollars..as it stands perhaps as artists we know souls are also worth it..and there are billions more...It might eventually make some sense in the journey
Take care and never lose faith ..your voice is individual and unique,,,
DVH
dvh: our VOICE should be like our piss - our blood - our spit - our feces, shouldn't it - a thing - a brand which only we can produce and should we not be extremely extremely proud of what we have distilled and made drip like moonshine, like mountain dew?
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