Thursday, July 19, 2007

On A Wedding Day
for Vaughn & Sobeyda

to town, to bed, to wed
she’s gone to my head

not in a suit and tie

in a conversation,
where I’m most comfortable

shopping for a wife
in a Spanish super market

up the aisle with a woman in his trolley

with a dress to alter
with address to alter

wedding in the rain
however heavy the downpour

not quite as extreme
as a couple under water
marrying in a sea garden

horizontal in masks

upon their backs,
breathing apparatus

bubbles going up
as they make their vows

a little God or a large amount
for Vaughn and Sobeyda
to spread on toast
to have with tea

God in a jar like jam,
like orange marmalade

knife to spread him with
like the gospel, like apostles

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007

19 Jul 2007 08:23:09 -0400


I was actually not kidding - I do mean my 2nd wedding (which of course,
is no where in sight right now). I love the way you captured the entire
event and events of nature of the day. You have captured the visual
aspect of the wedding. As I was unable to attend the actual ceremony, I
had been asking for some description of the actual event. None, of
course, was as colourful as yours and so I actually can now envision the
most auspicious event in full splendour and with a view through the eyes
of "the poet"

Thursday, July 19, 2007 1:30 PM
subject: handel's messiah

happy to provide a window or a few in what was a wall. many thanks Shan, for your own inspiring words. your intellect impresses simultaneously. let it not waste or sleep where literature, where art is concerned.

have you visited NAGB yet? has Simfone ever been? oh, these precious things at hand we fail to take advantage of; so many taking drugs, having sex like a drug and taking lives. wish someone, something can redirect us, in large large numbers, to the arts, to poetry, to our own poetry inside. thanks for inspiring these thoughts. unfortunately those persons who should, cannot hear us.

Thanks again for that late night/early morning you delivered me home, remember, the morning the lamp pole on my property's boundary, virtually exploded and I was soooooo afraid; like those shepherds keeping watch over their flock by night? my flock were books, paintings, my own poetry and my house itself.

with much love.
Obie from u.n.c.l.e.


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