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
Do It With A Wet Mike
for R.S.
i
not a poem about sex, it was sex
doing it to and with everyone present
best present, breast present
as present as milk for a pussy to lap up
ii
impossible to write a more erotic poem
to surpass it
one would have to have intercourse
your words were wet with vaginal juices
iii
warm bread to eat with butter
not as satisfying
as you on mike, very first time
vaginal juices dripping all over the audience
this audience member, weak-kneed
in response to what you opened,
made bare
hairy, wet words, here, hear
© Obedih Michael Smith, 2007
1:53 a.m. 13/09/07
Look See
of Anthia Butler
what does it taste like
what must it be like to be her
it seems so delicious, so enjoyable
unhappy, in pain,
I envy the state she’s in, the life in her,
so without bruises, so new
my life’s like my knees, so many falls
though life’s a circus
it seems she’s always had nets
or is she a swimmer, a dolphin
it seems she’s glided all the way
from birth to this day
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:14 p.m. 11/09/07
Over The Phone
of M.G.S.
she would, she could laugh in my ear
forcefully enough to make eardrum,
heart and other parts flutter
made of the wind, able to tear paper
able to produce a tear as well as a smile
was once tissue paper,
easy to see through, to blow through
so substantive now, so complex now
instead of impacted upon
it is she doing the impacting
causing whom she encounters to tremble
who was a girl, was my girl
is a woman now
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:17 a.m. 10/09/07
Helen
she chose quick sand
to go across to get to town
every word of her sermon, nearly,
dangerous ground
she chose to go that way, to be that way,
was not afraid
boldly, for Christ, she walked towards him
across quick sand
every unmentionable, she mentioned,
what is most personal, she confessed
she talked about being a woman,
she talked about sex, she talked about marriage,
she talked about being right,
she talked about being left
her husband, after nineteen years, up and left
she talked about being messed over
about not messing up
stuff you just don’t touch, she brought up
had to sit up, take notes, take notice
this was the holy ghost talking, I could tell,
the holy ghost walking over quick sand
like the son upon water,
like the father upon the wind
I had to run to my window,
out through my window, another miracle happening
2007, woman asking men to back her up
humility mixed with woman power
we can’t go two steps, we can’t solve much
unless joined together, unless journeying together
into quick sand all of us would end
invited who would, to hold hands to be holy,
to fly
neil ellis got up out of his seat
and, like a young goat, was dancing
I danced with him, in ecstasy,
in response to Helen McPhee
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:16 a.m. 10/09/07
Stuck With Spit
hollow to fall into
hollering as we descend
at times, where you walk
is not solid ground
some hands you shake
are not people’s at all
what if someone
you’re having a relationship with
is instead no one
reach for them in bed
and there is no one
attempt to kiss or to embrace
and who you thought substantive
crumbles like chips
instead of substance
in your hands and in your life
what, who you attempt to hold
is mist in your fist
in life, a lot of balls we swing at
we miss
still awaiting Miss So And So
to become Mrs. Smith
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:29 p.m. 09/09/07
Chords Join
for Mia Smith
she is my heart and soul,
my heart string, my guitar strings
how I suffer when any one of them pops
when between us, we are unable
to make the most beautiful,
most original music
the heart strings are harp strings
I play and you sing
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
9:36 p.m. 09/09/07
Island Gal Story
of L.M.M.
chick fed, coarse,
I’m not the mash in a sack
he’s used to being fed
must find, must feed myself
to who would be greedy for me
appreciative of me, cracked corn
delicious, whatever time of day
for whatever meal
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:21 p.m. 09/09/07
Eyes Apart
for J.S.
you came to me in a dream
and all was well
you came through the storm we’ve stirred up
without it touching you, affecting you
you were not wet or vex or windswept
your dress, so well fitting and you,
were fresh and clean, as if new-made
I was living in the motel still, room four
you slipped in through the patio door
out of the blue
no apology or explanation
what has happened
had passed away, was forgotten
you had something for me,
you searched your bag for it
I paid no attention to this,
you were the gift
I was happy to have back
what the devil attempted
to rob us of
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:51 a.m. 09/09/07
Who Rolls Waves
for M.G.S.
laughter off my eardrum,
beating it as if with hands
as rhythmically, as expertly
my eardrum vibrating,
rippling like waves
like her taut, tummy muscles
enjoying a joke like a coke for two
as much for her as for me
how able she is to push up against me
how able she is to move me deeply
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:20 p.m. 08/09/07
To Be Not To Be Debate
hey heaven, seat for me,
bed for me, room for me
account I applied to open
not open yet, not approved yet
hope you’ve not lost my application
inconvenient to fax it in or e-mail it in
ages ago, I prayed it in
hope it’s not still stuck
against the ceiling of the room
in which I offered up those prayers
I remember my knees bruised, hurting
don’t remember where it was
where I was kneeling
it might have been at the altar rail
of the Cathedral on George Street
but in there there’s cushion
upon which to kneel
was it as long ago as Holy Cross,
Freeport, when The Pestainas,
Foster and Ruby were still alive
you’ve made room for them
you’ve taken them in
I’m still here with my tummy aching
taking sh+* on earth
getting little for all I give
little respect from those requiring
one to genuflect before them
everybody getting away with murder,
with everything else, on this planet of noises
so little reverence for it
no one seems to remember
that they are walking on holy ground
too many shoes and tennis shoes across it
too many tires cross it, scar it
thought I was living, was sleeping
was walking, on holy ground
but it is a place to spit, to piss
for whatever other abomination
in whatever nation
if there’s no room for me upstairs yet
find me a corner down here
to turn through, a quiet lane
with shady trees, away from insanity,
insane citizens, life seems worthless,
misuse of time, abuse of spaces,
of places we have to share
human beings, like hogs on earth
grunting, groveling in the mud
bloodying the mud with bodies
falling in it, resulting from affairs
gone sour, resulting from idols on earth
set up in place of YOU
children of Israel
wandering the wilderness still
still not allowed to enter the Promised Land
the map to it, lost, ages ago
even though we have King James
the best we can do is construct,
erect Atlantis, build bridges to it
imagine it was Paradise
because movie stars and other stars,
none of them from heaven,
frequent it, descend upon it
because fire works from Paradise
light the sky so many colors
boom as loud as bombs falling
when each burst of fire works
ruptures darkness, dark nights
without reaching heaven, full of stars
able to see them only on Eleuthera
on some remote out island
unlucky enough to have been
left out of modernity,
to be without electricity
how tired I am oh, God,
of everyone, everywhere,
wanting to force-ripe themselves
into belonging to what is
the most modern of the modern ages
wanting to be always, upon the cutting edge
though it cuts us upon it, apart,
like fish, like chicken for frying
devil, forever, heating up the frying pan
his fork in hand to fork us up
to turn us
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:51 a.m. 08/09/07
Green Life
oh, thanks be to thee oh, God,
for the sun and the moon, for the stars,
for Jupiter and Mars
and for this planet we’re on
able to sustain life
cerasee vines everywhere
like hair nets
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:37 a.m. 08/09/07
Insects Bite Sweet Us
for N.T.
cock, just to have one,
so sexy and exciting
as exciting to be naked,
only way we can be
must be as exciting
to have breasts and pussy
free to pass urine, to pass feces
who can imprison or enslave these
free to think and to imagine
no greater freedoms, no greater forces
on this earth or in the universe
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:01 a.m. 08/09/07
Furrow In A Field
for J.C.S.
a lot like or hardly at all like
old times, what we shared today
in suit from the office
at the computer, back to me,
wanted her to, with her eyes,
make me barer still
did this eventually,
we together, intimately
she in her suit, I in birthday suit
embraced like this, lifted her like this
begged for hugs and got them
hungry, thirsty for hugs
she alone to deliver them
she alone allowed this near
we did embrace long once
she, as if wanting to hold me
as much and as long
as I needed to embrace her
and with all her might, she hugs tight
some agreement, understanding,
affection waking up
aroused in her, awakened in her,
waves of passion, of desire
she was the newest of women
I a fool, intoxicated
breathless in adoration
as she entered puberty, pubic hair gathering
until there was a bush,
thick enough to obscure, where she was,
otherwise, gaping open
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:05 a.m. 07/09/07
Whole World His Stage
for Luciano Pavarotti
he sang high Cs as easily,
as naturally as shining shoes
as brushing teeth or feet
as effortlessly
he worked with a smile
it was easy, it seemed, to please,
to include all the world
he sang to us all, for us all
included those excluded among us
made the lowliest elite
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:41 a.m. 08/09/07
Glory or the Abattoir
for M.G.S.
like a ghost of yourself
when I saw you last
you used to be among the planet’s
most beautiful women
I have photographs to prove it
something in you in need of repair
you tear yourself, you rip yourself
not flesh but spirit,
it too can tear like paper
prayers to repair, confess to repair
see a priest, say prayers
repent of sins, get rid of them
rather than live with what
are toxins in the realm of the spirit
I want your beauty back
don’t you miss it as well
looking like hell
when I see you here and there
when you used to look like someone
just visiting from heaven
putting something into your system
you shouldn’t
spit it out or shit it out or throw it up
I’ll shut up when you’re free, can fly
can of worms, can a worm fly
as little as you are,
what weight you bear,
what weight to carry
© Obediah Michael smith, 2007
11:39 p.m. 07/09/07
Les Mots des La Rue
“She ask me if I
could grine hard”
what generates the action
of this verb
in what is its genesis
does it, like the river,
commence in the mountains
ability to grind hard
seems like something done
with a brace and bit
gripped firmly in two fists
board to bore through
as objective as this
when compared with, in contrast to,
the inspiration to make love
flowing out of being in love
unlike a thing done to
or done against someone
so many children enter this world,
come out of fuckin’
something hard core
on a hard floor
rather than on soft mattress
instead of conceived in love
in a marriage bed
I fucked her and she bled,
a thing to brag about, among men later,
while drinking Guinness
while swilling beers
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:20 p.m. 07/09/07
Lip Pierced
for Beth Moree
who was a sex apart, a race apart
came apart, opened like a present
for me to enter and to take me in
in democratic exchange
what I knew of her, had of her,
like implements required, necessary,
to free conch from its shell
fell out before me, fell out at my feet
delighted, fascinated to eat it uncooked
as is customary among these islands
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2005
11:55 p.m. 27/april/05
High Seas
for L.P.
Pavarotti
won’t be singing anymore
he’s sung all his high Cs
he’s gone under
with the sunrise,
will the son rise
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:57 p.m. 07/09/07
Ticket To Ride
for L.M.M.
a donkey’s back to ride upon
we ride within a woman’s front
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:17 p.m. 07/09/07
Just Another
Wheel Chair
oh, boy, no car
no gas, no insurance
no accidents
no wash and wax
no whisk broom
no sweep out, no sweep up
no car theft
I need a bus
U need a biscuit
I need a ride
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
4:33 p.m. 07/09/07
I Draw My Pen
for Inma
our weak attachment, like tea bag
we attempt to use a few times
how I wish what’s between us
were as strong as a tea bag’s first draw
how very quickly, by instinct, to save his skin,
a cowboy draws his pistol
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2003
7:16 a.m. 20/dec/03
Just Howl
for Sonia Alexandra Isaacs
why don’t you, why can’t you
just fart something
or burp something
or sweat something
cough or sneeze something
rather than always, so carefully
licking your paintings onto canvas
like a cat licks
its just-born kittens
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:28 a.m. 07/09/07
Tin Cans
for S.F.
pussies to be angry in
rings around my venom
rings to drop marbles in, win or lose
squares of hopscotch
drop a piece of glass
visit every other square but this one
ring around my cock, to slip in
and out of
another game begun
when I was barely old enough
to play it, to engage in foreplay
to fornicate
intricate games we learn to play
rules we cannot violate
lines we must avoid crossing
or stepping on
game of life and these others
not even a wall between
just the thinnest membrane
memory able to pass through
like light passes through glass
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:49 p.m. 06/09/07
Papaya Mama
like a lot of puppies
all the papaya in a bunch
about my tree, attached
without ever letting up
or letting go as they grow
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
1:10 p.m. 05/09/07
Animal In Us
for M.M.
easily we could make
the two-backed beast
one of a few women
I’m sufficiently intimate with for this
unfortunately we are,
have been for years, countries apart
more than simpatico but our nationalities
are like thick city walls
I’d crawl through the eye of a needle
to get up in her, upon hands and knees
like a rat in its hole
hers I know, would be as sweet to me
as a rat hole’s stink to me
rat bait to rid myself of pests
what do I set to get her to come to me,
to draw her near enough
to make of her and me, a thing,
antithetical to a rat trap
set with pork or cheese or sausage
we’d go off with a bang when we came
I’d holler and she’d holler for sweetness
as loudly as if we were together, suffering
severe pain
want to fuck her as fiercely
as two camels would
as if to fill a desert with their lovemaking
with their too fiercely beating hearts
our bodies meeting as if competing,
sweating
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:24 p.m. 03/09/07
White Space
of L.M.M.
like a hole in the room
where she sits when she comes
like a hole in Sunday
when she visits
food in a plate,
lovingly prepared,
however large, unable to fill
hole she makes
what she brings in two hands,
one gift, but she sucks up,
sucks out so much, sitting in silence
for as long as she lingers
no idea what’s on her mind
what will happen next
or what she expects to accomplish
in an hour or in three
all equally uneventful
she expects us to
or expected us to wed
such a hole is as bad
as a hole in the head
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:44 p.m. 02/09/07
Intimate Minutes
for J.C.S.
lips to kiss where she was sushi-like
Japanese like to eat fish raw
no other way to have her
other then like guineps
wasp nests to put a bag of fire under
watch the wasps all fall down
render harmless what was dangerous,
would sting until you cried, fled,
until you took to bed
she was my joy on earth,
wasps made me sorry
I ever set foot on this planet
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
8:29 a.m. 02/09/07
Cloth Whack and She’d Weep
for J.C.S.
phenomenal weight in my embrace
delicious, the strain to bear her up
cross to suffer, to carry her light
carry her like a sack of rice
cup at a time to cook for supper
to sup her, to suck her, to succor
not for me the ultimate vision
for someone else to carry off,
to take to bed, to altar, to alter
candle wax, dripping, until
the last bit of wick
collapses in the last bit of wax
and the flame dies
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:51 a.m. 02/09/07
Sound In An Hourglass
for J.C.S.
things I have no right to,
wrong to recall, according to
who’s constipated, in a town
in need of enema, enemy of nature,
of rivers, veins, arteries, rainfall,
snowfall
what comes natural, just right for me
how terribly near we got
to each other, how terribly close
we came, we went,
to the edge, without going over
push to the edge and beyond
in world games, in athletics
we did the same in private,
in our own lives, I do it again
in words
what a world we used to live in
frightening at times to think about,
to recall, tight-rope walkers,
how is it, we didn’t fall
into the water, into the fire
hardly ever was there a net
to catch us, unless my verse,
a poet’s voice, was that net
circus without audience
unless your sister was our one spectator
until she joined in,
until she took over
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:56 a.m. 02/09/07
Unplanned Planet
for J.C.S.
I have never been happier
than when, at U of M
we played soccer we invented
to be played with foil,
squeezed into a ball
game for two bodies bare
along the corridor
of our on-campus apartment
were we on campus or on high
I’ve never been happier
not since conception
not on this planet
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:39 a.m. 02/09/07
Passion Fruit
for J.C.S.
see her, eye-full and eye-thirst
fits me, outfits me so well
completes me and speaks to me
spell she casts, teaches me to spell
and to be lost for words
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:29 a.m. 02/09/07
Upon Pantry Shelves
for Jackie Cox
I am a small woman,
she showed a tiny hand
incongruous with weight
she has to bear, to bare, to carry
I eat too much she confessed
connects this with
missing out on sex
other delights life has to offer
feeling fat and excluded
she’d eat and she’d drink
entirely bare, upon a pretty
Long Island beach,
she’d sunbathe until she burns
peach, pink, red, when day is done,
when night, a shawl,
falls about her fat,
sun burnt self
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
3:56 a.m. 02/09/07
Verse Across A Gap
for Angelika Hillebrandt
I am tongue-tied around you as well
my tongue’s tied around you as well
like that lizard, its tongue
half-a-mile long and swift as lightning
able to grab a bite, a meal, a mile away
wished she wanted me like this,
as badly
I’d gladly be taken in, devoured
to become part of her
or to go through her and out again
to be up in her, however I entered,
I’d be grateful, glad
in her like a mother’s child
to be born again
she, selected to make me holy, sacred
a meal or intercourse or impregnation
once she were big with me inside,
I’d be in heaven
she must make what she eats,
what she drinks, so very happy
what of what she urinates, defecates
these elements, molecules, atoms
must be sad to go, to be disposed of
what if she, because of this poem,
stopped speaking to me
I’d feel like shit, for certain
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:26 a.m. 01/09/07
Christ Church Cathedral
for Debbie Richardson
intoxicating connection, briefly lasting
but for hours after, drunk
think of it, of her, of kisses
and it’s difficult to stand
waver like a tree in a breeze
crazy, shaking, shaken
as long as breeze and limbs are one
we were like this, like that, last evening
like that while our contact lasted
in touch, intact, one for a minute
but what a minute it was, that was
carried away, out of this world
a mystery that we could put so much,
push so much into two kisses upon two cheeks
into two more upon parting
such submission, admitting love,
confessing it, wordlessly
allowed to kiss two cheeks
outpoured into this, into these
hearts, souls, such delicious kisses
more delicious than any chocolate
in any box, consumed in or exported
from Switzerland
we brought them up from places
out of reach in our two souls
she and I, able to reach that deep
into each other, across her desk
upon meeting, upon parting
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:03 a.m. 01/09/07
