Tuesday, May 04, 2010

Fist of Petals
for D.B.A.

i.
no no
no go

this element involved also
too young to pick
in spite of this sign,
that sign of ripeness

as inviting as she is uninviting
she pushes me and she pulls me
with equal force

I, like instrument she was playing on
was playing with
school girl I'm in love with

her blouse recently
covered with messages
with remarks, written on
written all over

written upon her blouse
and upon her upper body

back and front and sides
upon shoulders, upper arms
where sleeves are

I avoid thinking who wrote where
which were boys, which were girls

what of who might have
with pen or marker
selected or happened upon

one or another erogenous zone
who wrote what's written
where her breasts protrude

“But she is 18
“what are you going to do?”
a friend asked directly recently

I answered just as directly
shouting it really, "Nothing!"
and we both laughed boisterously

somewhere within though
hoping, praying
that some force
would intervene
permit to happen
much more than nothing

who has caused
what is already happening
attached us as we happen to be

is that force not still
available to us

is it not still available
to act on our behalf
is it not on our side

what has it in mind
is it not her and me and it
connected

us three in this joy-making
joy-bringing, joy-giving affiliation

what has it, has he to say of us
of what we might become
of where we might go,
might get to together

already I am transformed
by what we share

it is, she is, all the world to me
how this is, is holy mystery
answer is not mine to provide

where I or she intend
to push us or pull us

we are opening more and more
like a fist of petals
to sweeten creation

ii.
"Fuck you, friend of mine!"
complaining about
my habitually arriving
just before closing
to quick shop

cornflakes alone
left on my list
to throw in my trolley

I have to say
hello to my baby
locate love in my heart
the love of my life
in my soul and belly

she is all about in me
I must draw her in
in lines of verse
like chords of a sail ship

she provides direction
true north for me
compass I go by

go buy cornflakes
and get out of here

before you're locked in
locked up with rats

along one aisle
so very strong
there unpleasant smell

iii.
shifted from the need
to be faithful
to wife to be
or not to be

to needing to be faithful
to what was but
an extramarital affair

to what has become
and who has become
my heart and soul
the centre of my whirl


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written on Monday, May 3, 2010
Between 2:40 p.m. and 12 midnight.

3 Comments:

Anonymous D.A. said...

Here's what I found from Sam Cooke-http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T1h-dVh9Z_U&NR=1


It seems that part 1 and 3 can stand alone. Oh man Obi part 1 is one of the best poems I have ever seen. How you incoporate conversation in that? It touch me deep, real deep. But according to physics if I push and pull you with an equal force you really dont move. The two equal and opposing forces cancel out each other resulting in zero change. I must be doing one more than the other because you wouldnt be writing such lovely literature.

One of my favorites- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxIN79n4jVo&feature=related

Tuesday, May 04, 2010 10:36:00 AM  
Blogger Obie Quiet said...

Interesting what Physics knows and I love that very much and your logic is entirely acceptable and very likely true as well - that you must be doing one more than the other. I read what you brought so brilliantly to my attention and thought, Oh, I've gotten my Math wrong which is not at all acceptable for a poet nor for a philosopher as the philosopher and the mathematician are or were often one and the same. There is metaphysics though and there is also the logic of love and of hearts and possibly Physics itself gets it wrong. What I think is that a rippling would result, a trembling, a motion of and in the liquid - maybe ejaculation can still occur - maybe this is when it actually does - female orgasms also - when acted upon equally by opposing forces. I do think that in the space that is no space at all - in this infinitesimal gap is where what is really poetry happens. I think that it is only in this gap that prayer actually occurs and only then and there is it actually offered up. It is this manner of making love, dba, that I find fascinating - fascinating to me now more than anytime before in my life. It is what we share almost without ceasing or when we are closest - certainly it is like this for me, dba. It is this that makes the lovemaking illustrated in my recently written, "Waltz" seem grotesque and vulgar. Divine is the word. Subtle is the way, my darling. I love the love we make with terms of endearment alone - with words and little else added. Physics and Math are certainly not the whole story - are certainly not the whole picture. Poetry is truth also - not so-called poetry but when poetry is actually achieved. This has to be accepted and respected. There are asses who assume that poetry can be set aside and can be done without. It cannot, not if one is going to have a full life and a full or fuller understanding.

Tuesday, May 04, 2010 1:55:00 PM  
Blogger Obie Quiet said...

I've listened to the songs you've sent, da, and after the second one, I cannot help but be amazed at all the things that are already accumulated in your heart and head and soul. What a miracle to have a capacity for so much. This might be antithetical to those who dwarf themselves by seeing themselves as FNM or PLP or Valley Boys or Saxons or Black or White or Male or Female or Anglican or Baptist or African or European or Bahamian or Haitian rather than attempt to embrace SELF and ones whole humanity coupled with ones divinity. I love the largest possibly portion. I love the WHOLE story. I thank you for all of you as well as for all of US.

Tuesday, May 04, 2010 2:27:00 PM  

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