Contemplative
for Sonia Isaacs
even if my chin’s down, I’m up
to be helpful, “Chin up!” she summoned,
two-word motivational speech
artist too, she must know “The Thinker,”
Auguste Rodin
were she to say to him, “Chin up!”
Western civilization,
like the thinker’s chin,
rests upon his right arm,
right hand balled into a fist
would she want the world to topple over,
all of us to topple off
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:07 p.m. 30/09/07
Labor to Make Honey
for Benjamin Obadiah Iqbal Zephaniah
“I am not going to eat my friends!”
states Benjamin Zephaniah emphatically
vegetarian and vegan
but I have a few friends I’d like to eat,
a few friends I’d eat gladly
what you have difficulty eating,
pass to Mikey, watch him feast
then look with surprise
with no more to say than,
“He likes it!”
© Obediha Michael Smith, 2007
5:33 p.m. 30/09/07
Red Carpet
for Shanell Adderley
I want your eyes, full of fireflies
your heart, how fast it must be going
at such times
for now, hold on to the rest of you
the rest may be required later
fireflies, quickly beating heart
start with these
a hug for now, what’s left, hold
a rest, arrest, I need a dress, an address,
before I could ask for your hand
before I could wash your feet
brush your teeth, we're going out
we'd have to brush our feet
it's been raining off and on
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
6:33 p.m. 30/09/07
Wee Brain
asses pulling up or going by
with their music pounding
know just how to fuck up
a moment you were in, you were having
up until they came along
their moment dropping like bomb
upon, within your own
what they own, imposing upon
what you own or thought you owned
they own, it seems, the whole wide world,
imagine they do or would like to
all I wanted was
my quiet instant of realization
quiet thought, arriving from above,
from on high, when some fool,
high or drunk or stupid, pulled up,
shattered all that, ended all that
unicellular amoeba in a pond
bursting under pressure
only wanted its little piece of this world
a little peace in the world
elephants feet are so very large
intellects of some persons, so very small
as if God gave them brains
as tiny as pea
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:42 p.m. 30/09/07
Sunrise I Seek
of N.W.
as lean physically
as she is intellectually
inconvenient therefore
to turn to her, look to her, go to her
when in need of someone
to lean on
occasionally though, she surprises me
she is the prize I need,
the prize I seek
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:38 p.m. 30/09/07
Roofs Blow Off
for L.M.
our hearts
ticking like explosives
ticking like clocks
set to go off
like things which blow up
which go up
as well as go off
like lights go off
never know whether
life will end
with a bang
or a whimper
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:54 p.m. 30/09/07
In A Bare Hug
for Ebony Bullard
what is she doing with a dress on,
dressed up, dress up in the sea
what is she doing all grown up,
affecting me as she does
since school out, since nineteen candles
were lit upon her birthday cake
and blown out
since that hug, hello
no one before or since
has said, I miss you so passionately
with so much heart
with so much soul
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
8:56 a.m. 29/09/07
Coup d'État
for Christine Wilson
each poem a noose
about your scrawny
neck to pull tight, to pull taut
thoughts must be pulled taut
just short of breaking
just short of popping
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2997
8:21 a.m. 29/09/07
Trench Underground
for Steve McQueen & Dustin Hoffman
I have broken into something,
into somewhere or have I broken
out of prison, taken wings finally
like Papillon, like butterflies
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:17 a.m. 29/09/07
Rhymes Chimes Other Musical Devices
for Marion Bethel & Pat Rahming
there’s nothing free about my verse,
I pay with my life for every line
cannot imagine any poet ever,
paying more or praying more
for the best verse anyone can find
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:01 p.m. 28/09/07
Crackpot
for J.S.
she is as shallow as a bowl of soup
when an ocean liner needs a harbor
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:41 p.m. 28/09/07
Apples Worms
for L.M.
instead of me,
she wants worms
to eat her papaya
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:47 p.m. 27/09/07
Price List
for my friends
am I not good enough to be happy,
to be wealthy, have I not been
isn’t it a matter of
whether you’ve been bad or good,
for Santa to show up
with a sack on his back
deprived of gifts for so long,
I need him to show up
with sack just for me
who ever brought me though,
the gift to write poetry
to write anything I wish,
anything at all, almost any time I want
who brought it when
have I bowed in humility,
in appreciation sufficiently, for what’s priceless
whatever pen I pick up, like magic,
like a well you could draw from always,
fills up with poetry, fragrant as perfumes
Padre Pio received the gift of the stigmata
and though he bled, Christ-like,
from five wounds, this gift was coupled
with the gift of the scent of heaven
I want to be hungry only
for what heaven sends
for what heaven brings
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:34 p.m. 27/09/07
A Hug And A Kiss
for E.B. & M.D.
how she hugged me
why she hugged me
I had been her mother’s man,
man she couldn’t keep
they’d lost me, not seen me
I’d drifted off, way off
she herself a woman when
I didn’t know, had not a clue
until our encounter in Kentucky
until she cornered me, giggling, snickering
when she got me, while she hugged me
never knew I was worth so much
to her, her mother or to any one
don’t think I’d ever felt so much worth
not since I’d left my mother’s breasts
my mother’s arms
held me up from falling over,
from falling down
held me back from wanting to tumble
into a grave or off the earth
oh, what she made living worth
this planet worth,
when it was or was fast becoming
marble I was tired shooting,
ready to toss it into deep harbor waters
she came along like a shooting star
like chalk, a sign across night’s blackboard
I tell you, I wanted to fuck her,
stand on my head, walk on water
ever since, to express appreciation
what though did she want, would she want
what would she be satisfied with
ejaculate in her to complement
her holy gesture
how she - why she - when she held me
or is this thought contempt
violation of sanctity, of the worship
which that meeting was
embrace like nothing I’ve known
since my diaper-wearing days
except her mother and I,
standing in their living room once,
kissed until the seat of her panties
was as wet as clothes
on the line in the rain
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:52 p.m. 26//09/07
Pass the Future
Jee, she is so attractive to me
first time I saw her,
as hooked as I am today,
two years later
woman as big as she is clean
as she is elegant
moves me, draws me, awes me,
affects me deeply
how, why, a mystery
but how very deeply
she reflects me
even though, when I behold her,
it is not through glass
that I am looking
it is not in a mirror
figure for stained-glass
for light to pass through, for worship
though she nor I is attached to
or connected with,
sufficiently intricately,
the traditions of Italy
just the ink in this inexpensive pen
to hold her or to make her holy
is she my wife to be
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:19 p.m. 24/09/07
Piano Fingers
wind blew water from the canvas top
of a seller’s unoccupied stall
she was passing in the afternoon
earlier, it had been raining, she screamed
cold spray, fearing it was not as clean
as shower water
all over her bare as well as covered body parts
reacted as if a wave, out of no where,
smashed into shore and sprayed her
pretty, fresh and clean, heading out
and this assault
breath of wind mixed with water,
daring to shower her, to sully who
is so particular about appearance
about what, about who she brushes against
about what or who brushes against her
wind distributing water, all over her,
she screamed in protest,
as if with sound she made
she were able to shield herself
from soak and wet, from having to go
home again, do all over again
what she’d just completed so very carefully
showering, fixing hair, dressing
not wanting to have to undress
spend the time she’d spent all over again
in the bath, before the mirror
in her closet, another outfit to fit into
to match with how she feels today
with the colors of the mood she’s in
or was in
somewhat changed by the wind
and what remained of the rain
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:05 p.m. 24/09/07
In The Morning
In The Evening
with hammer in hand,
I can intend to build
or I can intend to kill
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:40 p.m. 14/09/07
In The Ring
for T.R.
O
open your mouth,
you owe it to me
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:35 a.m. 24/09/07
Waffles & Sausages
for V.N.P.S.
dumb pussy,
unleavened bread, any one
it wasn’t deliberate,
I forgot,
baking powder left
off the list,
out of my intellect
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:33 p.m. 23/09/07
Deliver Bread
for L.M.M.
I’ve given him it
I’ve hooked him with it
whether I’m able to bring him in or not,
he’ll die eventually
my poison, my dart’s gone deep
I can’t have him, no one else will
I’ll see to that, I’ve seen to that
he’s been in my trap
though he seems to have gotten away
he has not, he cannot
his wound's too deep
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
9:58 p.m. 23/09/07
Unlike A Pack of Cards
for Crystal Fraser
fiercely independent,
second time we met
you were on your own
dependent on no one, leaning on no one
as tall, as independent as
the Empire State Building,
the Statue of Liberty or Tour Eiffel
night we met,
you were with someone,
in the shadow of a friend,
a hanger-on, someone tagging along
though with others,
second evening we met,
you were on your own,
gloriously alone as I always am
or usually am
I must stand alone,
must be on my own
for poetry to find me,
she must find me alone
alone, on my own to befriend poetry
such a jealous gal
such a jealous pull
such a jealous pal
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:28 p.m. 22/09/07
Out of Waters Gems
for Crystal Fraser
it was as if
you were giving off steam
when I thought you sedate
you shifted, shocked me
this chilly, antiseptic,
ATM machine booth
better though than no where at all
to recall, to relate, to get in touch
with you within me
wanted to rest my weight somewhere
along the way, before arriving here
to mine myself for diamonds,
gold, emeralds
whatever precious jewels, metals, stones
you’ve deposited in me
assuming safekeeping's guaranteed
I am one to cherish rare findings,
rare fine things
you’re very rare and very fine,
out of no where appearing
to enrich my soul
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
8:29 p.m. 20/09/07
Cats & Kittens
for C.S.
lots of other ways to have sex
outside of copulating,
a long list, great distances
to traverse without Dick in Jane
how much have we circled
far and near this hole
without slipping in or falling in
or climbing down into this pit
no ladder to climb from it
not hers, not me
easier to climb a ladder to the moon
or to get upon a witch’s broom
and cruise the skies
but the intricate connection
we’ve enjoyed
kissed her pussy, sprouting hair
made her cry, I cried too
but how irresistible a thing it was
like worship, like the sky had come down,
had come near
and I had to show reverence
kissed until a bush gathered there
as well as after
a place on the planet
I deeply loved, I dearly loved
I nearly died to own
but gradually, she took possession,
ownership
I learned to like it less, kiss it less
with menstruation intruding
with her needing a bucket
or some such container beside her bed
at times like these, to puke into
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:56 p.m. 22/09/07
Arc All Boards
one devastating line of verse
I seek always, to wreck your ship
reverse of what pirates were up to
it is against pirates, against piracy
that I write
ships to wreck, of who have plundered,
leaving with valuables
women upon the shore weeping
for what they’ve lost
my poems like lassos
about escaping steer
to rope them in, to get them back
to get back what is getting away
I write poems to save the day
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
8:09 p.m. 21/09/07
Across The Street Sweeper
fat as she is
she pulls whatever she’s wearing taut
even fat, I’ve heard suggested, is a shape
mangoes come in so many sizes
she suggests she’s sweet
suggests we pull up a chair
pull the curtains across
and eat
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
8:35 p.m. 21/09/07
Words Wake Us
i
look at that very good-looking,
very big woman,
I open my window just in time to see,
lucky me
all the music in her body
I’m allowed a glimpse of,
the benefit of, for thirty seconds
before its over, before she’s gone
to make it last, along with, as long as
heartbeat, as long as my heart beating,
I transcribe, like notes upon a staff
to forever be able to hear, to see
a woman who, were she going my way,
I’d readily marry
but she leaves the frame of my window,
unlike a picture, framed, to get on with life,
to get on with living, while I write
movement, in air, even through air,
in this atmosphere, requires rhythm,
motion, to get through
like a swimmer in water, similarly,
must, with arms going, legs kicking
to overcome water, wanting
to hold you back, wanting
to drag you down
ii
glimpses, glances,
no more than this, no more than these
of honey bees
iii
Zoot Simms blows his saxophone
sound he makes is especially sour,
is especially sweet
this, mixed with notes
Joe Pass plucks out, upon acoustic guitar,
which rise like water droplets fall
just the medicine my soul needs
to add to, to go with
this journey cake of life
life’s not always a bed of roses,
not always a crystal stair
at times though, I cheer for the chairs
life pulls instead of guns
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:40 p.m. 21/09/07
Grapefruit Sins
for Sonia Farmer
dough-white, though white,
she’s my girl
whether I live or whether I die,
no lie, she’s my girl
whether in Nassau, in Nashville
or in Nazareth, we’ll keep
we have once danced
cheek to cheek
down stream or up a creek
with or without a paddle
I’ll get out of whatever
I’m stuck in wherever
and get to her and get her back
however far she strays
however long she stays
she’s been away too long already
from me, from Poinciana blossoms
from Poinciana trees
where she is, it freezes
here at home, year round
we have trees to climb
dillies to pick, plums
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:22 a.m. 20/09/07
Imaginary Cherry Tree
C.S.
if only she were bare
like she used to be
when I bear her in my arms
beauty of her weight to strain with
every bit of it, to weigh me down
to wear me out
so sweetly exhausted,
exhausting to me, to be
exhausted for love,
in love, over love
to fall down, fall out,
sweaty as construction workers
without the dirt and dust
us, wet with the work of love
the effort of love
way of rejoicing
what to rejoice for
two rejoicing, appreciating living
as alive as one can be
one and one, two
as well as eleven
as well as the two-backed beast,
no beast at all
having a ball in bed
with my baby, bare as could be,
sweaty
© Obediah Michael smith, 2007
4:58 p.m. 19/09/07
Are Days Numbered
ticking off days
days ticking away
ticking of days
like ticking bombs set
set to go off
top of our days
set to blow off in time
we keep our black dresses
our black outfits
to gather about
a hole in the ground
singing hymns
singing songs
saying prayers
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:59 a.m. 19/09/07
Plug To Pull
To Let Out School
for Carl Bethel
how much you can get,
how far you can go
without education, without intellect
is this why
what is the bulk of our populace
does not even try
to get up that road
to go the way a thinker travels
look at what one can get in an instant
with a mask on
with a gun drawn
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:11 p.m. 19/09/07
House of Fruit Flies
for J.C.S.
eye search her when I see her
hungry for poems
like an insect eater, waiting for one to alight
to snatch at
poems hover about her like fruit flies
hover over pineapple
I’m cutting into pieces and eating
over orange I’m separating into plugs
to partake of
over cantaloupe, papaw, water melon
I shove my knife in
to slice a chunk off
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:31 p. m. 19/09/07
Veins of Imagination
for J.C.S.
what about my thoughts
what about things I imagine
and cannot mention
slippery slides, slippery slopes,
slippery sides of life
we imagine and cannot live
do not live
except when irresistible
when carried away
except under cover
under night’s dark blanket
but the sun without end rising
sometimes comes up on us
hand within the cookie jar or finds us,
chewing still, forbidden fruit
or something too good to pass up
or to pass over
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:11 p.m. 19/09/07
Two Travelers
for J.C.S.
look at her, lick at her
when I see her
cat lick, cat-like, cats lick butter,
what’s smooth
way her body curves
way her body moves
places I’ll like to lick, to plant kisses
but out of this world, out of the question
only in words, maybe in sleep
difficult to go back down
a road once traveled, stops passed
stopped and shopped
while in business
but the store’s closed now
unable to go back
even to exchange
what was ripped, what didn’t fit
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:21 p.m. 19/09/07
Rock Open Almonds
for J.C.S.
we snuggle up like teddy bears
when it’s cold outside and we are warm
like puppies, weak, a week old,
wiggling, snuggling, needing other puppies
we echo each other like notes
hollered into the hollow of a cave
mystery alone, able to explain
what poems cannot
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:14 p.m. 18/09/07
Biddies Have Hens
way they dress says look
too polite to disobey
insufficiently stubborn
to look away
3 o’clock on Kemp Road,
mothers with their tiny tots
with them returning
from Uriah McPhee
my house has windows to run to,
to look through
about the house hangs,
bunches of papaw
rain, this afternoon
threatens to pour
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:16 p.m. 18/09/07
On A Diet
white people
are not a source
of white meat
all people
are red meat
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:24 p.m. 17/09/07
Bullets Over Broadway
for Woody Allen
applause like a squall of rain falling
not pita patter but clapping down,
slapping down,
stinging the ground
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:36 p.m. 17/09/07
Sixty Sexy or Six Feet
for Keorapetse William Kgositsile
in need of so many erections just for me
even those these days
are not forthcoming
erections to fuel heterosexual affairs
out of the question
to fuel homosexual affairs
way out of the question
in need of so many erections
just for me to have fun with
to butter biscuits
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:35 p.m. 16/09/07
More Than Guns To Confiscate
modernity in the hands of jackasses
and we’re all threatened with blackout
we could all, in an instant, be back in the dark ages
asses with modernity in their fists
misusing it, abusing us with it
motor bikes and other gadgets to make noise with,
to ruin health and rest and quietness
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:38 a.m. 16/09/07
Pussy Is A Tiger Cat
of L.M.M.
stuck in pussy ever since
pussy I never should have entered
ever so careful about withdrawing,
must do it slow
years to decide whether to stay or go
pussy a noose about Dick’s neck
any wrong move could spell disaster
smell disaster when I contemplate elsewhere
anyone else
tried it several times before, tasted wrath
witnessed rage
lost about what to do when I’m all hers
but whenever I begin to stray,
she knows what to do
requires no manual, she goes berserk
frightens me into staying put
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:18 a.m. 16/09/07
My Pen My Pal
for Khanyi, Phillippa & Lebogang
places I go, deep waters I enter,
boiling rapids
in addition to physically dangerous,
the morally as well as spiritually
dangerous places I enter, I leap into
but I have pens I get free
from British Colonial Hilton
to hold onto, to hold me up,
otherwise, I’d have gone under long ago
these pens like staff, like oar,
like lever in a car for shifting gears
and so very many gears
at other times pen is foil, is sword
or bat to play or fight with
in the kitchen, I cook with pens,
meals against starvation, soups,
my big spoons in cake batter
an English man who was once a soldier,
who had been to war,
unable to find anything at all
in the staff room to stir tea,
dumped sugar in, stuck his pen in,
swirled it about, upended the cup
to his heart’s content
my pen, my wand, allows me to go about,
in and out of danger
when I’m lucky, like Aladdin upon a carper,
a pen permits magic
like the racket of Billy Jean King
it has carried me, it will carry me
across the globe, around the world
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:29 p.m. 15/09/07
Hot off the Stove
for Tanya Shirley
her big eyes to enter,
to enter me
to hold me
like a cup holds tea
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:54 p.m. 15/09/07
A Stone for A Nun
for Michelle Woodside
grown quite plump in prison
with bracelets on, on her way to court
female officer, her escort
she must have a good appetite for prison food
dilly-brown, pretty-brown skin
looks warm like cake, like bread
interesting to me, interests me sexually
additionally, she mystifies me
thief of several thousand dollars
attempts to cover up
bashes in the head of a nun with a stone
slashes her throat to make sure she’s dead
divided, I wonder about her beauty
about her sanity
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:31 p.m. 15/09/07
Once Again
for J.C.S.
has she any idea - I ache with pleasure,
eye ache with pleasure
she used to be my girl
we used to share ball-naked moments
nothing on or in between
up against bareness, up against beauty
dangerously close - then the cold war,
it lasted years
what’s new pussy cat
our affair, a new affair
could we go back there
go back bare, go back where we were
ten years ago, go back to before then even
a woman now, new age
I used to turn her pages,
she turns them now - like leafing through
a Sears, Roebuck Catalog
for new clothes to buy, for new clothes to wear
blanket about her until they arrive
my arms about her, just out of the bath
before drying off
we used to invent the games we played
moves we made
dangerous places we visited
I remember the night, about the pool running
with not a stitch on, she fell in, I got in
how warm her flesh was
even though the water was chilly
back to Eden with her in my arms
in triumph, returning
letting our leaves fall like trees in autumn
what clothes she attires herself in
accentuating how well she’s made
her clothes hide what they reveal
I hunger to see her like I once could
like I once did
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:50 a.m. 15/09/07
Aborted Missions
for Michelle Hanna
many in our community with guns,
pulling triggers, should have been ejaculated
into condoms and disposed off
the gallows, Privy Council, other complications,
would need not ever have arisen
these persons, allowed into existence, into being,
without appreciation for sunrise, falling stars,
without appreciation for squawking seagulls
hovering over our harbors
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:11 p.m. 14/09/07
Neck Weak
for L.M.M.
so much, without end,
left unexpressed
without a giraffe’s neck
unable to see far
I climb whatever height I must
to look into next week, next year,
into next century
or to look back as far
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:47 p.m. 17/june/07
Prayer Fixes Things
straighten me up, straighten me out,
put a prayer in my mouth
enable me to walk with me,
enable me to walk with thee
© Obediah Michael Smith, @007
9:34 p.m. 15/june/07
Never Say Never
you and me and Brandy
in a room, as drunk as could be,
our clothes off, dancing
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
6:42 a.m. 15/june/07
Twin Once Twin Still
for M.B.
who able to get between us
where we’re attached, how we connect
too intricate to take apart
we’ve not had children but
we’ve altered the world,
the nation, the Caribbean,
the nature of being with what we shared
we changed each other irrevocably
family, relatives of hers, have therefore
only the changed woman she is
able to have no other
as family and friends of mine, to an equal degree
have in me, a changed man, an altered being
altered with her intentions
with love, with no other instrument
what of her dad going missing,
passing away, hole this left
did I heal it a little bit
did I address it without knowing
her contours are gentle, spiritual woman
at once as erotica as could be
what she did to me, what she does to me
loved me so naughty, so deep
I was a little naughty too, it was sweet
what a pinch love was,
guinep in your teeth and juice stains your clothes
it was often like this with her and me
until the world ended
until the word came and we came apart
like avocado seed, like twin guinep seed
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:55 p.m. 13/09/07
Sweat Sweet
for M.B.
I’d flirt with her fiercely
so very subtly, but with what force
what upheaval
roots which crack a sidewalk, crack a house
I used to crack her in half, in two
until she cracked my heart into bits and pieces
collecting them ever since
to have something whole
I’d long to hold her when I’d see her
I’d hug her but compared
with what we used to have
with what we used to do
hugs, however tight we squeeze
are hardly ever sufficient
I’d sip what I’m allowed, what we’re allowed
leaven every tiny bit of time with poems
stretch these like dough, make them rise
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
9:57 p.m. 13/10/07
