Two Sides Same Coin
for L.M.M.
giddy girl no longer
at least not yesterday
defiant, fierce
resistance shocking to him
not to be overcome
not to be moved
he desisted almost immediately
his idea was to disrobe her
as he'd done over and over
she’d resist only to capitulate
to give in easily enough after
she was a rock
he could not overturn
so many miles away
from once when he stripped her
and naked, dizzy, giddy,
she headed for his front door
he thought she’d go naked
onto his upstairs porch
caught herself, returned to his arms
his bed, to all his other body parts
was made love to and make love too
yesterday a different day
a different season
different woman all together
to grapple with, to tangle with
had he persisted
he knew not what might have befallen him
she was much too strong to break
or to convince
invincible woman
with arms of steel
had he insisted
she might have whipped him
it might have lead
to outright violence
to picking up something or other
to swing or throw or hit
one or the other in handcuffs
off to court and charged
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
6:10 p.m. 30.06.08
Madeira Bark
for Nathalie Wood
bitter was
bitter words to swallow
like bitters
like medicine
like poison
we survive snakebite
a bit of venom
and grow strong
indigenous people
Columbus met
thought he left none standing
but we survived
to savor river water
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:18 a.m. 16.08.07
Fish-filled Nets
for Nathalie Wood
you have changed
you have changed me
with wit, with words
wanted to touch the core, the rim
you have
shaken and shaking with joy
what profound things you’re capable of
what daring girls today
as reckless as can be
I thought you were conservative
you’re one of the worst
what you’d dare do, dare say
on a stage with a mike
strip us bare and more bare
without thought of apology
it was you, some years ago
in the audience
having to withstand poems of you
about a cruise we’d taken
you take us apart, take us places
body wrapped in black jeans
in black top
outfit as tight as a condom
words you wrote and read
as tightly wrapped
emotional still, heart beating still
audience laughing, shocked, thrilled
jaws dropped, eyes popped
unable to believe
you were baring so much
wearing so little
shaving pussy bare in public
legs apart, lifted
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
3:54 p.m. 29.06.08
Blue
for Juliet Binoche
i.
candy of memory, candy of forgetfulness
its stick in the fire, in the flames
all that remains of times gone by
of a family which was
ii.
no time to be leisurely, for outings with me
a film in French with subtitles, in the open air
unable to be with me, where is she
items for Independence Day, she’s sewing to sell,
she said
iii.
not to be depended upon, relied on
for certain she'd let you down, let you drop
as nebulous as clouds, to drop through
to drop you, to fall through like rain
strange woman to go with, to be going with
are we going anywhere, getting anywhere
affair of two worlds
involved and uninvolved
iv.
even the secular can aim for the sublime
and reach it, touch it
the secular can touch the roof
of the heart, of the soul
Bach or Beethoven, able to,
with musical fingers
remove cobweb from the ceiling
of the tallest cathedral
Mass of Mozart or his requiem
or that of Gabriel Fauré
one composer or another
will save the day
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
9:40 p.m. 26.06.08
Angel Drinks and Sings
for Kyla
i.
how can talent attach itself
to drug and drink
as it does, when it does
when it drips down like wine
when it’s what’s divine
when we’re drunk
on our gifts already
add poisons
though already filled
with gifts, with talents
intoxicated with these
inebriated bees
ii.
out of what instruments
out of what evil, art comes
rusty trumpets, chipped saxophones
what violins, violas, violoncellos
boxes, cases, battered
like this woman
encountered one day
on a street in Paris
knew we were Bahamians
same roots
battered like a box, like a kite
she could fly still
her tail in the wind
blowing
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
11:32 p.m. 24.06.08
A Sort of Song Bird
for Kara Smith
i.
a circle of friends
and she extended a hand, a greeting
without which, she not,
I not complete
link our generations with hand shake
with our hearts beating
does she/did she know
how much her gesture meant
how much her gesture means
in a world, in a time
of so much detachment
every connection
breaking off, dropping off
like flower petals
grave upon the ground
ii.
she knows how to holler
when she loves someone, something
appreciation to show
and she's not short of it
not a bit short
able to shout
when what she hears
what she sees
is what she likes
primary school teacher
knows how to encourage
how to motivate
she motivates a song or two
up like steam, out of me
I sing for paper, sing upon a page
same as if I were upon a stage
with a song to sing
were I that sort of song bird
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
11:02 p.m. 24.06.08
Zips Buttons
for S.R-S.
at the circus, cock inside her
world to ride on, ride to whirl on
what acrobats
intercourse makes of us
on her back in my bed
sex to get on top of
a girl and a boy
on top of the world
unable to put it off another minute
off with their clothes
dropped them on the floor
in a chair
a piece or two found hangers
to hang on
no longer able
to ask the other to hang on
until the right time came
she had a hollow he had to fill
he thought she’d have hollered
instead he did
she was like a lamb
except for her shuddering
he thought she was laughing
she might have been weeping
washed in tears
long time she wanted him
to tear her clothes off
tear her legs open
could no longer wait
the wait as well as the weight of it
too much to bear
at the circus, cock inside her
world to ride on, ride to whirl on
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
2:41 p.m. 24.06.08
Chill Child Warm Pie
I put a pint of ice cream
over your pie and ate it,
ate you, with a table spoon
what bliss while it lasted
while I watched you
melt all away
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
8:33 p.m. 22.06.08
In Spite of Spiders, Bats
for S.R-S.
why she'd push herself
into my sphere
as embarrassed as I am
about areas of it
about aspects of it
is a mystery
brushes pass, pushes pass
embarrassment, my own,
and in she comes, in she goes
insists upon entrance
upon being inside
on the inside with me
eating, drinking, conversing
what is it about my world
with its dust, its cobwebs
with lizards, darting about
does she find magnetic, attractive
though my toilet, its bowl, its seat,
I keep rather clean
and share with hardly anyone
outside of her, outside of me
my tub is a mess
is hardly ever touched
as dirty as the wall tiles are about it
too busy writing, reading
awaiting success and fame
pursuing these,
to scour, vacuum, dust, clean
thought I was unfit for romance
she insists upon coupling
should I think less of her
for not thinking less of me
for not disrespecting
or dismissing me
used to rejection
what to do with acceptance
as troubling, as troublesome
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
3:20 p.m. 21.06.08
Moonlight Rooftops
for S.R-S.
in the moon in the sky
her daughter and her
though continents apart
in the moon in my heart
in bed together, legs apart
two beating hearts
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
3:18 a.m. 21.06.08
Intimate Meal
for S.R-S.
how do we get through to
over on the other side
without or outside of sex
how do we brown the other side
of a fish in a frying pan
unless we turn it over
how otherwise would it be done
over and over and through and through
how do we get to a woman’s other side
outside of intercourse
without a fork, how do we turn her over
face to face as well as back to back
as well as belly to belly
a woman’s jelly to delight in
must open the thing
must open the tin
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
1:36 a.m. 21.06.08
Petals Weep Fall
for Leslie & Stephen Saiz
are there no children
nine years of marriage
is life a long honeymoon
honey dripping from the moon
since time began
from they first met
life like a honeycomb
from bees stolen
honey from a hive
bees mad as could be
couple off and running
having stolen the joy of life
how carefully guarded
what they cherish
will not give back
joy which living together is
joy of being one
joy of seeing her
wearing against her white skin
nothing more
than her long black
Mexican-black
hair
man who could hold his drink
and not stagger, not blink
she has what it takes
to sober him up
to keep him this way
or that way
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
8:10 a.m. 30.05.08
Handkerchiefs instead of hanky panky, I threw them aside. How conservative, how uncreative but not at all out of character. Was the idea that we’d have screwed, ripped the package open, wiped her pussy with one of these handkerchiefs with an M upon it, that would have been something, a really memorable way to celebrate Father’s Day; but dinner and this packet of handkerchiefs; I am sorry to say, I could take or leave.
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
12:20 a.m. 16.06.08
Itch Scratch
for Danielle Bethel
light filled, life filled, all lit up
light shines through
bulb bright woman
to ignite like that, ripe like that, ripe fruit
mixing my metaphors
shouldn’t moths be as mixed up
flapping until fluttering around her
come to the warmth, to the light
to expire
am I a moth drawn to light
drawn to life, to have life drawn from me
in short order
should she not be enclosed in lamp shade
that she’d dazzle less
dangerous to be exposed, to gaze, to touch
I dare not
hands in the gloves of poems
to go near her
look up, look down
as if to weigh, to estimate
what such a jewel weighs
and what it’s worth
with “it,” I’ve made a thing of her
inadequate language
I address her with
already I begin to worry of envy
being seen with her, known by her
come to know her and what enemies
what rivals
those who’d want to take my life
because I’d made such a find
I’d have to hide away, hide her away
how does she go about at present
how does she get away being so lovely
I’d be timid
for this very reason, I cultivate
I’ve cultivated shabbiness
even if only superficially
timid, I hide my worth inside
she dares be beautiful
amid such ugliness, amid the mess
which our times are
oh, that poem of Yeats
about what it must have taken
to drag into being, such loveliness
must have been about such a one
how easy ugly is to come by
in our time
five senses, like five chalices
to take ugly communion from
this transparency
containing and transfusing light
enough to fill a poem
a clapboard house, dilapidated
lovely in the morning
vine-covered, dew-covered
sun coming up, pin-pricking light
going out, going forth
in every possible direction
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
1:01 a.m. 15.06.08
At An Exhibition
for Toby, Megan & Allison
that was a fun one
one fun moment
momentary connection
fresh white faces
fresh from England
two journalist I made laugh
commented on how lovely
how pretty
pretty friendly females
made to laugh out loud
they knew not that my open palm
passed across their faces together
was to gather them in, collect them
energy, beauty to steal
palm passed across them
as if to cast a spell
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
10:34 p.m. 13.06.08
The best poet in The Bahamas
has twelve fingers
Marion Bethel
Nicolette Bethel
Christen Campbell
Patricia Glinton-Meicholas
Robert Johnson
Helen Klonaris
Lelawattee Manoo-Rahming
Patrick Rahming
Obediah Michael Smith
Ian Strachan
Lynn Sweeting
Marcella Taylor
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
2:07 p.m. 31.05.08
Tiny Varadero Beach Shellsfor Claudia
i.
shells at the end of a long bus ride
these shells and bathing suits
bus brought us to, took us from
long beach bath, longer beach walk
sand of the desert, sand of the beach
like fire to step on, to walk through
blue Jell-O waves to bathe and to play in
the races of the species of Cuba in the sea
ii.
tiny shells for tiny palms
opening and closing
hearts spit blood, exchange for life
cigarette spoils all that, all this
instead of pen in finger tips
instead of kisses, cigarettes, two lips
time always running out
flowing in, flowing tides
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
2:47 p.m. 13.06.08
Between Acts
for Erica James & Penélope Cruz
i.
art goes for the jugular
with a knife every time
like the worst news
to get its message out
to get at that message
with every delicate instrument
by every delicate means
language, lines or brush
colors, scalpel, mallet, chisel
light, shade, shadows
without end though
it goes for the jugular
with knife, it takes life
to examine it, to analyze it
in what fine detail
to weigh it
slice by slice, ounce by ounce
like flour, sugar, lard or rice
ii.
I want to put a barrier up
between her and me
I want to build a barrier back
amid familiarity
though it is impossible
for the hand of time
to turn back to when
we two were strangers
I find knowing her or having her near
strange taste of it, sense of it
not to my taste, distasteful
dislike having her near
contact, her pressed up against me
I wish negated, nullified
I want a wall to be in between us
to come between us
strange and friendly
friendly and strange
unable to woman
the man I am or can be
or want to be
iii.
only the knife that murdered a man
blood washed away
like blood off a hand
now used to dice carrots
murder weapon
without ever turning up
or showing up in court
used to prepare a meal
neat murder, neat meal
same knife, same hands
blood in between
to wash off, to wipe off
between acts
iv.
able to attach and to detach
like what had buttons and no longer does
able to go between these conditions
at the drop of a hat almost
what subterfuge, what deceptiveness
she’s capable of, what artifice
capable of such switches before my eyes
what of what she might choose to do
when and if my back is turned
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
9:58 p.m. 12.06.08
Skies Scars
for Tia Clarke
bloody cousins, ritualistic act
interact, we hadn't in a long time
any less afraid of closeness
of contact
nearness, bareness,
wind through the window
water vest, just out of water falling,
water rising
wind and towel to dry you dry
dry eyes, teary eyes
torn apart, injury in heart, in hand
to live with
only choice, to live or die
will live until a better day
until healing mends
what will heaven send
will hell say
about this wish bone day
careful to avoid chasing you away
alienation day
not another one of those
to live with, to live through
worry about you
asleep, did you undress
will you wake refreshed
they'll name an airport after you
one day
José Martí in Havana
your name in the sky in stars
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
4:54 a.m. 11.06.08
Apple Core
of E.M.J.
how unbearable, her palms
falling upon her hips' two sides
the impact, the compactness of her
of flesh, blood and bones
all her years she slapped, lashed
able to bear such blows
even delighted, stimulated
by contact with herself,
sweet and harsh
I get some idea
of just what she is able to bear
of her bareness
what she could take, would take
what she’d invite
delightful delightful woman
one of the finest I’ve encountered
in creation, she has to be
not easy to surpass such beauty
completes me like a tool,
like pliers, its other half
impossible to write this poem without her
more a part of me than pen in hand
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
8:21 p.m. 12.06.08
Where To Eat A Candy
for Tia Clarke
elephant on a Monday
little girl upon its back
you that little girl seven or eight riding, parading round
all the people, all the children applauding
not at all afraid so high upon an elephant's back
you used to be afraid but not any more
candy on a stick in one hand
other hand to hold on with
you used to fear I'd let you fall
teary eyed elephant at a little girl's trust
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
5:06 a.m. 11.06.08
Downpour In Havana
for Beatriz García Machado
almost as without breasts
as when she was born
such a big smile
intellect not at all
as little as she is
firm on her feet
as rooted as her teeth
her teeth, when she smiles
are so very pretty
my poem, if she reads
when she reads
will reveal my eyes
how they have rolled
have roved over her
her toes wet, clean,
washed in the rain
are pretty too
as her teeth are
when she warms up
warms us
when she smiles
her intellect
as clear as the sea
as the Caribbean
as the light of day
able to see for miles
when she shares
her thoughts
when we break verbs apart
like almonds
to see what’s inside
to decide
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
10:18 p.m. 30.05.08
Edge of Whirls
for April on her birthday
out of a belly as perturbed as mine is
can I put forth a poem
all mixed up in Cuba
its luxury, its squalor
a city decomposing
like teeth decay
in need of attention
is it forthcoming
you luscious, delicious, voluptuous
full of twenty-plus Christmases
full of Easter eggs
arms full of bunny rabbits
birthdays to celebrate
as of late, away from home
with friends instead of family
loved nonetheless
cheerful colors, cheerful flowers
matching a heart of joy
a smile so bright
hoops, hopes enough for circus tricks
for circus clown, for tigers, bears
for laughing children applauding loudly
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
5:25 a.m. 08.06.08
