Monday, April 19, 2010

Salty Peanuts
for D.B.A.

and I thought I could not be happier
eyes to dry of tears
happy makes fall

raining but she summoned me
I had to run to her
rain or not, wet or dry

why we cannot marry
when I've been saved
all those nights which life has been
for this day's light
or hard day’s night

for weeks with 8 days
fairy tale world

Hans Christian Andersen's
complete works
to open and read

my life's one such tale
at present

hadn't a clue such joy on earth
was available or possible

my heart beats funny
when I'm having more fun
than I can bear

my baby just left me here
where we were a while

this rainy Sunday
sunny days inside us

I want to die happy
won't want to die now

want to see what awaits us
see what the outcome of this
will be

I'd marry her in an instant
in a minute, in a month

immediately after
she graduates high school

off to university together
she to complete initially
a Bachelors Degree
while I labored on
finished off a

with God, what is impossible
if this much can happen
anything can

she is steadier about us
about love than I am

I get so nervous
my hands shake
my whole world shakes

met her, earth shook
like that event in Acts
round about Midnight

Paul and Silas in prison
singing and praying
and the earth shook
and all the prison doors
fell open and the chains
of the prisoners all fell off

the jailer awoke thinking
the prisoners had all escaped
fearing for his neck
he was about to take his life
when Paul called to him

"Hey, we're all here!"

I am involved
in no less a miracle
knowing her, watching
another poet
come into being

where will
our missionary journeys
take us

people who would exclude you
make you outsider
what are they inside of

able to turn myself
outside in, inside out

what more in this world
do I require or desire

uncircumcised dick
to roll back the skin of
and wash smegma off
like grits off teeth

what of inside-outside
what of who in, who out

dick in, slips out
to have to/two have to
slip it in again

what of who’s on the inside
who's on the outside

who's on the right side
who's on the wrong side

right hand of God
or elsewhere
to sit in heaven

dress right or dress left
when I put on
my underpants

losing my true true friends
or who I thought were friends
were true

three men at this moment
concern me

break up over money
a hundred dollars or two

I thought our attachments
were worth millions
were priceless

thought the clasps
that clasped us
made of better
than platinum

were they instead
made of brass or were they
but hand cuffs, leg irons

we on a chain gang
or enslaved still

in need of manumission

who needs be freed though
from the bonds of love

I've lost a man or two
I cannot wait to have back

they were as precious to me
as air

why are they now not speaking
to me

I haven't a clue

though I know superficially

why actually is a mystery
as much a mystery
as was our affair
in Philadelphia

Lord God Almighty
thank you for anointing me
with her

what strong medicine
this love is, your love is
our love is

will it save me, keep me
or will it end me

how uncontrollably quickly
my heart beats
leaps and pauses
slows and speeds up

parts of speech I love
as much as body parts

taking bodies apart
to make and to improve
his art

body parts of lovers in bed
to know what to do with
to know what not to do with

parts of speech
to shift the gears of

in need of the feet
the legs of flies
for the feat in question
for feats like these

why write if not
to purify language
to distill thought

for self definition
to make a dictionary
of nights and days
of the life you've lived

I do not ask you, oh God
to make me well
or to make me wealthy

I ask you, oh God, instead
to make me yours

don't look like
I am going to recover
from her

I most certainly do not want to
do not wish to

in fact, I want to get worse
I want it worse

to guarantee that it is chronic
that I'd remain
in love with her for a life time

love sick like this
for a lifetime
she is my lifeline

girls with salty fingers reach for books
reach forth and back like waves

Prospero's Books, drowned words
washing, wishing for air

girls with salty fingers,
with sullied fingers, sullied hands
finger prints or footprints on books
as if books were beaches

reach for me with salty hands
or for baby crying in a crib
salty tears falling

salty shoulders where tears were shed
want books to last a long time,
a life time without sign of wear or tears

brown marks on book pages tell tales
aside, apart from tales told by words
upon pages printed

one story competes with another
in time, in a decade or two

books in my library
hands these have passed through

what we pass through
before we pass out
or pass over or pass on

curious to see, to know
how her breasts hang
when not held up
when not contained
in two bra cups
when they are out
of their fruit cups

how would it be, I wonder
to have them to sup on
to have them for supper

curious about the pull
of gravity upon them
about how these fruit fall

when there's nothing
but my two hands
made into cups
about them to catch them

or my mouth to hold them
even if it cannot
even if they are two much

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written between 6:30 p.m.
on Sunday, April 18, and
5:47 a.m., Monday,
April 19, 2010


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Monday, April 19, 2010 12:37:00 PM  

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