All Rise All Fall
for Lynn Sweeting

artistic rightness
what I aim for, what I aim at
not right for feminist
or politically correct

art has rules, these I follow
like footprints
only the oldest Indian chief
is able to make out
is able to sense

able to trace them
when they cross water
able to taste them in water
this is what I choose
to be about
without apologizing


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:20 a.m. 31/08/07

Row Your Boat
for Dashinique Rolle

too skinny to look at,
so I thought
show herself, so much meat
on her bones

her hips, her pelvis,
as meaty as could be

engaged to be married

someone, saw, knew,
what I see, know now
some time ago,
want her for all times

how late I always am
to get to the table,
to take my plate, my place
take up knife and fork
best of the lamb,
most of the ham, gone

all I’m ever greeted with is
nothing left
having to look and salivate
while others feast

I have eyes to feast though
eye-full of her, to fill my belly with

belly growlin’ like lion growlin’
king of the jungle, king of beasts

able to feast upon
whatever it pounces upon
whatever it’s able to tear apart

with her, I’d want to be gentle
as we went, as we go
down stream


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:06 p.m. 30/08/07

Lights Circling Night

let loose the tiger, all six
or was it eight, police cars gone

free to be wild again
to go back to wilderness

their going releases
this poem in me, from me

poems I write is how I express
I’m free

some see freedom as freedom
to shed blood, to take life,
as freedom to die


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:05 p.m. 30/08/07

Seymour Krelborn
for G.C. Jr.

Gerald Cash, gave me a check
as good as cash, as good as gold


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:32 a.m. 30/08/07

Mush Angels Eat
for Angelika Hillebrandt

noises I am unable to spell
all I am able to make in response
to her loveliness, friendliness

she is angelic, she thinks I’m somebody
I quake with happiness

it must be that long awaited success
is upon me finally
how to wear it, does it fit, does it suit me

about the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen
on this same planet with me
upon earth, walking
where has she left or hidden her wings

certainly she sleeps in heaven,
goes back and forth between meals

says she’s attending university in New York,
her mother’s ill, recovering in Ohio

I suppose she has a passport
goes between countries,
suppose she has a nationality,
all the trappings of earthlings,
all our limitations, but I know better

she comes and goes,
freer than birds do, birds go
like weather, from town to town
from time to time, from place to place
seeking limbs, roof tops to alight upon

when all backs are turned
she disappears without a trace
through a window, and off she goes

gravity has no pull, no hold upon her
where was she then, before I met her, saw her
she had to have been in another sphere

my heart is glad ever since,
whenever I see her, hug her

gave me last evening, two cheeks
to kiss, she’s leaving, jetting off
to New York, going back to school
what a disguise

I know an angel when I see one,
she can fool others, she can't fool me


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:44 a.m. 30/08/07

Lidless Lives
for A.H. & D.W.

Lord Lord
take off the cap I keep on, the lid,
attempting to safeguard what’s inside

necessary though to have it off
to take it off

when happiness is being out poured
to fill me up, to fill my cup


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:06 a.m. 30/08/07

Way Out
for J.S.

discuss through it
was all I wanted,
all I invited
disgusted that you did not
or could not do it
even cuss through it,
throw something through it
silence though,
was not the way
to deal with it


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:36 p.m. 29/08/07

Henri Matisse
for Patti Meicholas

what he manages to cut out, to leave out
what he leaves in, somehow, breathing still

he never cuts the lungs apart, across
he never cuts the heart out


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:52 a.m. 29/08/07

Face to Face
for Julie-Andree Knowles

how with possession,
we spoil beauty, with handling,
with hands, with ownership

shipwreck on their shores,
our boats all boards,
on rocks crack up

but this is but half the story
intact and unassailable,
something keeps, lasts

a face
which only beauty touches,
caresses
a face inviting kisses
to cover it


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
9:15 p.m. 26/07/07

A Moment of Ire
for S.F.

who was a friend of mine
is a dough-white bore,
time I turn upon her as Picasso would
upon the women in his life
after he’d gotten enough pictures
out of them, when they were as empty
as tooth paste tubes
she was empty to start with


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:11 a.m. 02/08/07

Glass Huts
for Jackie Cox

not only elephants have hides,
we too have our hiding places,
within thick skins

from slings and arrows,
from sticks and stones,
from words hurled at us to hurt us


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
6:01 p.m. 31/07/07

Province
for Camille Soulayrol

make neat, your life
no need to wait to get to heaven
sort it out here, now

make it worth having, worth living

life need not be a garbage bin
a rubbish heap, a garbage pile


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:33 a.m. 28/08/07

Ice & Soil

go ahead, be white
I’ll be whatever the heck I am
in addition to human


© Obediah Michael Smith, 207
2:39 a.m. 28/08/07

for Crystal Fraser

swept up like skirts,
out of a sort of sleep,

alive in ways I had not been
since mystery severed ties
I had with pelicans, years ago

love disaster, that disaster,
she was born ten years after

able somehow to stir me so,
head to toe

long long spoons, in lemonade, in ice tea

we’re having lunch this afternoon
umbrella above our heads
tourists about us, scantily clad,
imagining they’re in paradise

we know we are


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
9:40 p.m. 27/08/07

Eye See Saw
for E.M.J.

questions, answers, eyes
no words to ask, no words to tell
no words to spell

just a dress between her
and the world outside
between her and looking
and seeing eyes

weighing eyes, wanting
to wear away daylight, Jericho wall,
even without a trumpet to blow

evening falls and her dress falls off
and she steps out

caterpillar gets out of
and back into its cocoon
in order not to risk
dust being rubbed off of
a butterfly’s pretty wings

which, when she flaps,
a tsunami in the Pacific commences,
sinks ships


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:19 a.m. 28/08/07

Sold Soul Membrane
for M.G.S.

girl I knew has passed away
don’t know who this zombie is
wearing her faded features
like a faded outfit


© Obediah Michael Smith. 2007
11:49 a.m. 27/08/07


Eye Meet Flesh
for E.M.J.

I always pause
to eye her, to have her with my eyes
when I see her


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:32 p.m. 27/08/07

Russian Paint
for C.F.

Kandinsky, convince me
to buy your art
to sell my own


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:37 a.m. 27/08/07

Over Proof Rum
for N.B.

drunk, what you get, how you feel
on Wednesdays, when she comes in

how she makes her body move
makes twist, stops
without warning, starts again
as abruptly, stops

heartbeat, breathing of whoever looks,
she affects, controls, as she rolls her hips

intended or unintended, akin to oceans

indicates, confirms, one maker’s hands
took her buns from the oven
hand from which flows, rivers, rapids,
rolling oceans, rolling seas

rolling or roving eyes
hearts quickly beating
while the fire in her burns


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:18 p.m. 23/08/07


Cyber Buddies
for N.T.

dead, sterile, like a pencil or pen
a computer has no life until I pick it up

but similarly, what are we unless, until
God picks us up

what are we when he puts us down

I pick the computer up
to get through to her
she puts the computer down
like receivers
of two phones


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:04 p.m. 23/08/07

Affair A Pear

à une futerie, à Paris,
au lieu de demander un avocat,
j'ai demandé un avocat

avocado I got last night
tonight got me

when I thought I was having it
it was having me

a year ago today
since I visited
avocado heaven


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:44 a.m. 26/08/07


Skin Against Sin
for Natasha Turnquest

insects bite her up and down
leave their marks
upon a woman they love,
unable to get enough of

teeth and claw marks
where they crawl
sure signs, they wanted all

got all they could get until slapped
as hard as she would
a man getting fresh
or getting too near

insects want to enter
taste her blood

shed blood, red blood
red spots dot up and down
arms, legs

damaging, discoloring
baby-pretty beige


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:37 a.m. 26/08/07

Buses & Thrombosis

how come a bus system
competes with itself

does blood compete with blood
white and red corpuscles
in arteries and veins

overtaking each other
to get to the heart,
get back to start


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:04 a.m. 26/08/07

Dawns & Evenings Meet
for V.N.P.S.

you have to sink your own ship
you seem to be expert at it
don’t ask me to assist

you have to clean your own shit
it’s stinking up the place

hope you like the taste of suffering
thought the Lord suffered sufficiently
already

is it not enough to eat his body
drink his blood, to taste of it
to participate in crucifixion
as well as resurrection
to rise upon ascension day
has it not come and gone

why are we stinking as if decomposing
as if in a sepulcher still
why are we killed
why are we killing still
blood spilling still

I thought that page in the story
already read, over and done with

thought we could have fun with,
in, for the rest of our days

rest, sunsets to savor, the rest of our days

in a daze, too full of too many bad days
given, taken, too many bad ways

spoken too many bad words
in a world gone bad, gone mad

choose happy, not sad
upon writing pad, leave poems
no suicide notes

how harmonious are the notes
in Mozart’s sonata for harp, orchestra, flute

like Wordsworth, I wish my days
bound each to each by piety


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:12 p.m. 25/08/07

A Han Ta Sleep In
for Sonia Farmer

I getting so wear out
I almos like a page yur could tear out
so tired, eyes tired

at dis computer all night long
feel like all life long

life still long or short now
like a pencil yur write wid
and broke an sharpen
and broke an sharpen
tell it only a knub, a stub in yur fis
yur hardly could hole it

I hardly could hole up
I better lie down
I better go sleep, slip inta dream lan


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:23 a.m. 25/08/07

Make Cake with our Maker
for Crystal & Jackie

religion, too often,
is and should not be
like sickness caught
coughing out, sneezing out
scriptures nonstop

is it because of something I caught
why I’m sneezing, coughing poems
constantly

antithetical to those with religion
are those who claim
not to believe in God,
wanting to travel light


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:44 p.m. 24/08/07

Champagne Wishes
for Crystal Fraser

Crystal, like heaven,
lights heaven, likes me
able to cling, able to squeeze

what have I
in the deep freeze to feast on
to thaw out

I know what she does
to my heart I had on ice
when the heart, according to
the English patient,
is an organ of fire

she fills mine with warmth
and new-found appreciation
for our planet

didn’t know she was on it
until two week ago
ever since, it has become
so much more interesting
so much fuller
with exciting possibilities


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:43 p.m. 23/08/07

Daze of Joy
for Carol Scriven

up against death,
I live, I lie, I lean,
as if we were lovers
I’ve never been happier
in all my days


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:54 p.m. 23/08/07

In Two Nights
for Crystal Fraser

i
wanted to be
the wick in her wax
to whisper in her ear

ii
out of her mouth
almost slipped a poem
I wanted as much
as I wanted her tongue

iii
I wanted to make your little phone ring
I wanted to light up your numbers

iv
cruel to make stale jokes
about cold Canadian buns,
about bums in winter,
freezing beside the road

with buns bare in bed,
up against each other,
we try to keep warm,
away from the Tropics


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:00 a.m. 23/08/07

North Pole South Pole
for Crystal Fraser

whatever sails your boat or sinks your ship
ice-tea, my dear,
or would you like it hot

ice caps are melting, we're copulating


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:27 a.m. 23/08/07

War of Views
for A.H.

your weltanschuung
has clashed with, has crashed into mine,
like Bush into bin Laden


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:37 p.m. 22/08/07

Trash for The Flames
for Pablo Picasso

how annoying when
a book you want to read
with pictures you’ve come to love
because of dampness, rot
or because wet in rain
is now a book of pages you cannot turn

instead, its pages, stuck together
unable to turn them, you peel them,
rip them, tear them, destroy even more,
book you once loved

unable to access what was readily available,
so accessible

what of when the book in question
is life itself, a relationship gone wrong,
gone sour, like food, warm, palatable,
gone cold

nothing left to do but to rake it out

could have it back eventually
with hogs, huge, grunting,
in your back yard to rake it to
to take it to


© Obediah Michael smith, 2007
1:38 p.m. 22/08/07

In Between Events
for Crystal Fraser

a nation, a meal, rest, apple juice
carrot juice like milk, stain lips

where she come from to this frontier

know cousins, no cousins in Canada
severed ties, as if she could

no relations, no ship go back and forth
between two countries without a treaty

out of the blue, into the ice age

Paper Mate pen to write a letter
to get her out of school early

a wedding or was it a funeral to attend
white dress or black,
yellow dress or red

she has to show up in something or other
a wedding, a burial or birth

baby in its birthday suit,
kicking and screaming
was her not very long ago


© Obediah Michael smith, 2007
3:42 a.m. 22/08/07

Age of Incredulity
for Crystal Fraser

Carla Bruni, who she’s like
able to assert herself to a degree,
not before imagined

runway for a model in Milan
or my arm and my palm
to journey down in fashion

palm to spin upon, head of a pin
for however many angels
to dance upon, she among them


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:00 a.m. 22/08/07


Ocean Self
of Crystal Fraser

surface of us as placid as sea
within us, deep-sea diving, spear fishing

she surfaced last evening with a splash
fish, bloodying her spear, flapping

at times, available for handshake
even offer cheeks for kisses
but deep within ourselves
as if elsewhere, as if not there

met me last evening, at her front door
admitted into a space,
breathtaking, fascinating

in deep sea water, trouble breathing
in identity, her entity

did not mind at all, would do it again,
knowing it’s prescribed for healing,
for my soul’s salvation


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:56 a.m. 22/08/07

Imagination Tree
for Crystal Fraser

memory, remember me, tree of life
pick me, pick three, I’ll let you
for juice and seeds

leaves will fall when fall comes
for anyone passing to walk on,
walk over, walk through

what trails we leave when we pass
trembling with delight or weather

cold winds blow when we want warmth

blossoming, becoming a woman
filling a cup up, filling her cups up

cut me down
if you find me bitter to bite, to chew,
I want you to like my flavor, my fragrance

I want you to plant my seeds
so I’ll be available, season after season

I want your image
on my cathedral windows, in stained glass,
with light passing through

essence of existence to savor
save her, waste none
of an orange handed to you
upon a palm, upon a platter

plait her hair, it’s time for bed
time for soft, see-through attire

pitch-black night outside
dogs asleep, not even a whimper
but the cars with their music
without fail, booming by


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:54 p.m. 21/08/07

One Stormy Night
for D.E.W.

far from home, far from perfect
on this night, in this land

in a boat, I entered history
the roughest waves lashing it

haunted still by the waves’ roughness
by that night’s blackness


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:20 a.m. 21/08/07

Just Yesterday
for J.C.S.

as womanish as can be
too pretty, too short

I taste and I see
I wait and I weigh her,
in arms about her

with arms about her, elevate her

put her down
place feet upon
carpeted, wooden floor
remember when she’d fall
when she stood up

some men fall
when they look at her
in love or literally

team of sailors see her
sea turns against them
seeing the size of her
pumpkins and melons
their boat capsized
boy did she laugh


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:50 a.m. 21/08/07

Rough Waves
for Mia & Camille

we score goals,
when we, inserted, fire
I couldn’t miss
I was assisted by mother earth
by stars above

wish I had more than verse,
than words to give her
seeking higher ground
so much to gain

must play the game of life
and death, to the end

from danger zone to danger zone
so far from home

I used to be captain of her ship
and of her sister’s
we’re all adrift now
I need a lift


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:36 a.m. 21/08/07

Instamatic
for J.C.S.

an instant, that’s all
an instant, no more
as of old, like times gone by

no less flustered, she nor I
by intimacy, by bareness,
by our nearness

immense beauty shakes our leaves
however pretty clothes are
nothing fits like skin

in my arms, like old times
crazy times, forbidden things we did
edge of damnation

ours was another nation
we created as we went

we broke rules, we made new ones
bareness was what was celebrated

in the bath or out
in the pool or in the sea
anatomy to see, to share
to take possession of

properties acquired
to intoxicate whoever saw
had to limit who looked
who took pictures


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:04 a.m. 21/08/07

Dewdrops Do Drop
for J.C.S.

anatomy of a woman
attired in tights
could only let leave
with about a minute to worship
for sacrilege

uum! as if in pain
unbearable beauty
I could only behold
unable to hold her forever
had to put her down
had to let her go

short, pretty, shapely
up against me, bare
unable to keep her there
where hearts beat quickly
holding her, weighing her
one sort of pleasure
watching, another joy

what pain, her having to exit
my world, my senses
memory too frail to hold wine

words I make a cone of
I make to cocoon her, will it leak
will it eventually go soggy
like a cone with ice cream
melting in a warm fist


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:02 a.m. 21/08/07

No Grave No Gravity
for A.H.

angelika, angel like, I like angels
what about, how about
a ride on angel's wings
when life's too heavy
to lift, to live, to carry


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
6:51 p.m. 20/08/07

Daliesque
for Angelika

the earth’s an egg we live upon
crack it, fry it, fry with it


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:15 p.m. 15/july/05

Hot Trails Cold Trails
for Pat Strachan

real estate too often
ends up coming up
out through our noses
soda quickly consumed
before we have a bit of it,
proceeds from it
to swallow


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:00 p.m. 20/08/07

Easier Ride
for M.G.S. & J.C.S.

who’s going to inherit
the wind I am breaking
the sails of my boats
full of the wind


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:14 p.m. 20/08/07

Empty Money Barrel
for Joan Miró

people in the night, peopling the night
didn’t go nearly mad for nothing

don’t go near mad
without touching the thing you fear
before running off, running away

you did touch
you were touched and were changed
not for a while, forever

streamlining ever since
to get through bars, into heaven
once the time's right

rich in faith, spiritual wealth
not rich like rich men
unable to pass through
needle’s eye on camel's back

wide awake, sun coming up
new day commencing

been praying to God for money
pray he arrives today with a barrel full
when he knocks, I'll get up


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
6:33 a.m. 20/08/07

Dirt In My Heart for Seeds
for J.S.

Bodas de sangre, blood wedding

was she a virgin, girl I married
bloody sheet, fling from the balcony
to crowd awaiting custom

awaited custard apple for ages
used to get them from Miss Allen
one so big, you needed two hands

she asked me for papaya recently
hanging heavy upon my tree

before they could ripen sufficiently
some one came along
harvested what I planted

she had none and I had none

we used to have guineps and dillies
to feast on, when I was growing up
when I was young

dilly tree here still, five decades later

guinep tree cut down
neighbour say it was in the way
wanted to put up a wall

people who used to live there,
their grandson, all grown up now

divorced his wife, has two sons,
drives and fixes pickup trucks, fells trees

want someone to fall in love with
as thunderously as trees he fells fall

I am forever falling in love
but a tree falling in the forest
with no body there to hear it,
we are all still wondering, did it fall

can I get a witness


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:05 a.m. 20/08/07

In Pencil
For J.S.

will he fuck you like this
will you need new discs, a new desk
to do your home work


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:18 a.m. 20/08/07

On An Old Rugged Cross
for J.S.

about you, about me
make art, enter time and timelessness

love sins to look back on
already aged a thousand years
ancient as ruins

some of this to sip and to sup on,
some of this for supper

long gone, long ago
without need to worry, to be troubled now

was fuck a word for what we did
for what we shared
age was old, time was new
we met bare and dared to strip
suck, fuck and all was well

and all was not, what though,
can time not pass over, outdo, outgrow
what does time not know
its memory full, and each minute
more to record, recall

pages for us to hide between
sheets of paper, sheets of cloth
print upon them later

place for me to rocket off in you,
hard fuck, rough as waves, as graves

but nothing dies without erupting
larva and ash and us
dust to dust and us again

what might we have been
in another life, two owls maybe
rats to kill, night after night
a rat to share, to tear to pieces

in this life sedate, polite
good morning and good after noon
hugs and kisses upon the cheeks
hands to shake when we meet

I want to take your panties off
push my cock up in your pussy

man with a Bible, came by yesterday,
brother of mine, he left shouting, angry
said I need Jesus

who and what do you think I need
what have you to give me, to please

should I close the window, a chill in the air
if you sneeze, you might wake the children


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:35 a.m. 20/08/07

White Pepper
for Angelika Hillebrandt

fleshier lips, fleshier hips
whites should rejoice
for a dose of black in them
like a sprinkle of black pepper

I like black pepper on tomatoes,
sliced, upon grilled cheese on toast

I like adding black pepper and Ketchup
to and through scrambled eggs

white woman with hips, with full,
with succulent lips

a trace of black, a taste of black
added to snow white
and the seven dwarfs


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:58 p.m. 19/08/07

Juicy-fruity Women
for S.F.

more Modigliani
I’d not ever seen
to ooh and aah over
overboard with love
for his images, his women

women left bare
almost a century
oranges, tangerines

some women, like grape fruit
so much to take off

artist has to strip you bare
to take you with him
to leave you
to posterity


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
6:13 a.m. 19/08/07

Wine Press
for J.S.

squeeze the pus of her
out of my system

sweet pussy person
what's sweet can poison

not the puss to let climb
into my boots

must chase her away
rather than taste
forbidden fruit


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:54 a.m. 19/08/07

Affair With Life
for J.S.

erection I have for you,
I’ll write poems with

a poet has to handle his own pen
I have emotions to spend

not the stuff to waste
I usually eat all upon my plate

I usually lick the platter clean

fat and lean for Jack Sprat
no wife to help him out,
to help him up

his ups and downs
his own affair


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:22 a.m. 19/08/07

Aroused By Who
of J.S.

want to touch there, here and there

where can I touch, where can I not
how to find out

with clothes off
with eyes closed, with lights out

how to find out unless I dare
touch here, touch there

wear you, bear you, when you are bare

unless my face slapped, stings
unless my hand spanked, stings

spanked a few bottoms in my time
delicious accidents, acts of nature
which no one mentioned after

accepted like sand accepts water
thirsty for it
porous for it
richer for it


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:39 a.m. 19/08/07

Footprints & Sea Shells

walk the bitch, the beach, the dog


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:58 p.m. 18/08/07

Negative Tea
for K.M.

Adam and Eve in leaves
having to flee, along with me,
along with who also has to leave
because children of savages
are having a party
celebrating, not evolving
and happy about it, not wanting to be

assuming themselves free
without a bit of light to see by
emancipated and going no where

what they have to, choose to
give me is not a gift, insulted by it,
assault at best

what they call music
loud enough to wake the dead
when the dead wants to rest
as well as the rest of us


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:16 p.m. 17/08/07

Crazy Whirl

big, fat, flat-foot girl
would pull herself out from under me
just when I thought we were
copulating like crazy


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:51 p.m. 15/08/07

Eventful Fall
for N.T.

fingers striking letters
upon computer keyboard

hope I’ve not harmed, not bruised
hope I’ve not left you black and blue

how excited I get
in the clutches of inspiration
in the clutches of friendship

clutter of words to clean up
to make sense of
early morning of my days
in a daze of memories of last evening

one happening outside,
another happening within

no one able to see the heart gallop,
leap, like a year, like a horse,
its rider in the water


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:52 a.m. 16/08/07

I Remember Long Ago
for Natasha Turnquest

careful how you touch her
what you awaken

without consent, these words
otherwise birds fly in

Nadine Gordimer
sends us birds across the waves
across Good Hope Bay

how far I’ve strayed
limbs about me, poem about her
shy, I seek to know, to do

without bodies, sexes, ages
who are we, what are we

in the next life, in the one before
what were we, what will we be

pigeons, possibly,
upon the neighbor’s roof, necking

nearby, nest of eggs,
in a coconut tree


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:04 a.m. 16/08/07

Photographic Age
for Natasha Turnquest

beige bathe, beige bath

us two in it, a day, a minute
unable to let the water out
or wash the color off

wet cloth in water
after, cover her with kisses


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:44 a.m. 16/08/07

Limbs Joints
of Natasha

eyes on her skin, I on her skin
eyes like insects, from conversation,
fall upon her arm, her leg

creep over, crawl,
creepy-crawling eyes, I'm unable to control,
wild, wanting to roam her limbs, her body
so much to explore

can I love her, outside of, other than,
erotically

have her in my heart also
admitted her ages ago
evening eyes met, got to me, gets to me

creeps about inside me also
across nerves, alive-girl, woman, friend

who lent her to me and for how long
how deeply have we gone, can we go
we meet, we’ve met

on the boarders of brilliance, of madness,
on the shores of beautiful, of art

shatter glass, face in a mirror
instead of mine, scared of mine
after nightfall
hers in mine to soften heartbeat

galloping cowboys,
run me out of town, firing

noose to string me up
I’ll be back, want her that much

Eve of St. Agnes, Porphyro in a closet,
Madeline stirring

when her eyes open, she’ll see me
off we’ll go, air lift, air-light
caught up in unbearable lightness


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:25 a.m. 16/08/07

Wool Fight
for Sonia

I own the light
which comes into my house
when the sun comes up

my own light
so much, so bright, in August
in summer, in the morning

mine to let in or to close out
free to open my blinds
or to screw them shut

my life, my right to decide
how much to let in,
how much to shut out

each day,
from ninety-three million miles away
enters raging
like a big black bull


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
8:41 a.m. 14/08/07

Waterfall or Dip Up Flour

prose is the minute hand
going round the clock entirely, on and on

poetry is the pendulum
beneath the clock on the wall
swinging like a metronome


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:16 p.m. 13/08/07

When To Hang Curtains
for D.A. & S.F.

interesting the endless need-
that endlessly- a woman
has to stand guard,
has to stench against men
without end attempting
to burst into her pussy
like a football team
like policemen at the door of it
with shoulders, boots
with battering ram to ram through,
ram into the door of it
with her alone on the other side
to keep a storm surge
of masculine energy out


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:46 p.m. 13/08/07

Our Shoes or Feet

is what it takes to make you look
sixteen years younger
more significant than what it take
to make you live
sixteen years longer


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
8:32 a.m. 10/08/07

Stirring Up Creation

i
face to drink through a straw
made of milk and strawberries

ii
knocked over like a bowling pin
by the sin of looking,
over and over again

iii
antelope or cantaloupe,
boar constrictor swallows
without chewing


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:50 a.m. 11/08/07

Cloth To Make A Dress
for Sonia Farmer

i
some females, when they walk
indicate a knowledge of music
which surpasses any Beethoven

ii
I am the spider of the web, I’d say,
with wanting to react to every tug
upon the conversation

iii
horizon between light and dark
between day and night,
that line of separation
which keeps things straight

at times though,
what’s dark and what’s light
in a swirl, in a whirl

like something an ice cream parlor
serves, with sprinkles on top

but should chocolate and vanilla
ever mix, ever be mixed
in art, in ice cream or in politics

iv
want to fuck you black and blue
through and through

want to love you too
through and through
body and soul, crown of your head
soles of your feet

Royal Crown Grease
wash out your hair

footprints, fingerprints
to leave in the mud
lip prints to leave upon the mug
poem to hug you with

I’ll miss your wit
like Weenie Sausages
with can of these, I used to think
I’d died, gone to heaven

I used to have these on Ritz
on U Need A Biscuit

sandwich of us, like two snaps,
marshmallow in between

v
I hate when people
make assumptions about me,
said she, livid

assume I know nothing of cleaning
a toilet because I’m white

toil and sweat, sweat and toil,
foreign to me, assume I had a maid
all my life

you’ve had a maid, I tell them,
your mother

I hate when people
make assumptions about me
about what white is made of

without reading the label
without tasting the soup

my mother used to taste the pot
with big spoon, would give me some
hot as a nail through a palm

I get hot as hell when someone
makes assumptions about me

when someone attempts
to make an ass of you,
an ass of me

vi
layers of skirt to lift
but she’s conservative

bartender from Fluid,
poet with locks,
six-and-a-half-feet tall

used to serve her liquor
slip it to her to sip

layers of herself
like onion to separate, to offer

Dubai, Pakistani, Indian friends
in university, used to eat raw onions
with curry, like cucumber

similarly, she is cool and pepper
parts of her from all across the globe
from all around the world

vii
fighting over you
over your two breasts

over who will get to suck them
to sup with you

his thumb, enough for him to suck
as much as he deserves

a corner for him to sulk in
thumb in his face to fill it up
to shut him up, to keep him quiet

we have things to write about,
to talk about, things to be about,
to laugh about

shower me with blessings from above,
as well as with Palmolive soap

for her and me to wash ourselves
after love, towel for us to dry off with
when the rainy season’s over

viii
she promised we would do it
and sure enough we did

after poetry, sex, woman of her word
woman in word as well as in deed

rare breed these days
old fashion amid modernity

where what’s done, what’s said
is what’s convenient

time of war, propaganda is the goose
which lays the egg

truth is truth in any age,
never out of fashion
however much shoe heels change,
dress length alters

enough cloth to make a dress
even though she steps out of it,
leaves it upon the floor
amid the Wide Sargasso Sea

ix
net to cover you with,
like a country, against invasion,
against intrusion,
against other fellers'
flirtatious remarks
which prick my soul,
pierce me to the quick

wear black, cover yourself,
said Picasso, angrily, jealously
to Dora Maar, so men cannot
have you with their eyes

jealous of the sun in the sky,
shining on you, owning you

x
two lips and tulips
for Sonia, going away,
leaving on the morning train
for Pratt College

what books she has to open
to breathe fresh air

pages to bleed between
months of lights, of nights
to live through

not at all unlike soldiers
going off to war,
she’ll come back changed

how many times, until then,
will she have to change
sanitary napkins, insert o.b.

xi
outbreak in art,
like outbreak of flu,
so many catching on,
so many catching it, so many mitts

so many to admit for quarantine,
coughing poems, coughing paint,
sneezing art, like blood
into handkerchiefs

xii
Crystal Palace,
like a large bouncing castle,
all filled up with air

her wish is that they’d collapse it,
take it with them, whoever blew it up

along with others adjoining it,
it’s expected to be imploded soon
like The Montague, like The Holiday Inn,
like 9/11


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
written between 11:58 p.m.
08/08/07 and 4:44 a.m.
09/08/07