Saturday, June 19, 2010

11 Sour Limes
for D.B.A.

maybe it is time to back way off
more gifts, more things than she can appreciate

more than she has the capacity to appreciate
without insulting gifts with pussy

pulling this out, putting this in to explain
what's priceless, pure

arduous the effort to bring what I brought
across boarders for her to have and what do I get

disrespect, disrespected, far from better connected
all of this for pussy, she imagines

does she not know the price of beef, of turkey
of items in the bread basket

she thinks all that, all this, all these, on the scale
on the side opposite would not weigh her pussy down
weigh her pussy up

is it that heavy, heavy enough to balance the scale
with me with kindness, kind heart, kind hands
on the side opposite

logic for this artist/scientist, when she gets confused
goes out the window

what is it, who is it that I am dealing with, giving gifts
what though do I want in response, in return
if not her pussy, if not for her to love me
and for us to be one, for her to be mine

she does not it seems wish to be made, by my gifts,
into a love bird in a cage for me to pet

she wants instead to be wild, to know the wilds
in one accord with her because
I do not want no caged bird song

prefer my birds in trees calling, singing, free
my desire is to release her not to trap her

responding to the things she'd say in poetry
or would say in conversation

sexual innuendos, suggestive remarks
suggesting she was loose, was easy

maybe she is, maybe just not with me
certainly wrestles hard against anything sexual
opening out, opening up between us

formidable, fortress-like, don't even want
to go up against that or to have to break such barriers down
or break down such resistance

not prepared to break dance if that's what I'd have to do
to access her sexually

bent out of shape and possibly bent up permanently,
morally or otherwise, to be her boyfriend this week
and not next week

can say, fuck it, lose patience
turned off, I can find elsewhere for faucet
or for river water to flow

unable to abide what I do and I
being relegated to some low place, low mind
sullied, insulted

let your waiting always be waiting upon the Lord
waiting and weighing upon the Lord

who else or who on earth is able to bear the weight
or who is deserving of your or my waiting on them

we must wait for therefore and we must wait on
and we must wait upon the Lord

I must wait upon the Lord even for her to come around
or to calm down or to call

thought her heart was mine from wall to wall
gifts enough to fit like carpet,

that space though is not vacant, not available
for filling up with fill of like a pool to fill
with water with chlorine or chlorophyll

eyes wide for Visine - to get the red out
after shedding tears
too many, too long

have to learn to wait until it is my turn
like an African wife,
one of several wives of one husband

thought I was the husband, I am a wife,
one of several

God Almighty, save us our closeness
how far we have journeyed from to together

in between pain, confusion,
there's us, connected, us perfected

back on the bus, time to see clearly
to hear you speak to me

how we used to be before we had advanced
to this, to here, to now, to where we've advanced
and digressed

used to go about
with you in my pen
from place to place

remember the ways, the days, the daze
of going around, about with me

do we know each other better
and love each other less

relationship in need of reparation
Holy Spirit, fix what we are unable to
Grace give us back the love you had given us

even if undeserved, I beg you, give it back

back there, back there
back to where prayers are said
and tears are shed

to go back there, to get back there
know there's no controlling
what another thinks or feels

must leave my baby or anybody
to be free, to be for me or against me

want to be on your side, want you to be on mine
that enough to guarantee that I survive

whatever life offers, in excess of this,
is like soft paper, sufficient to protect
like gift wrapping, like bows about a gift
the gift of life, the gift is life

in love is extra topping on ice cream
how close, scream to ice cream

scream you might be greeted with
upon entering a lunatic asylum

insufficiently connected, insufficiently well-
insufficiently securely attached
for what I tell the world

for all I tell the world of her and me
suggest we are of a piece
have become like
a single piece of cloth
woven into one
or cut from one

she comes along, when it is her turn
to state, to relate it, she negates it, negates us

denies it, denies us
worse than Peter denied our Lord
though we too have been seen together

her concept, idea,
is that nothing's going on between us

though she's happy to have free
copious amounts of not so free time
when she needs it, when she needs me

admit though that, there are those times as well
when we have, on the phone, been attached
for nothing more than attachment's sake

time stretching out like a long snake
with something it swallowed to digest
another long snake most likely

in need of a lot of leisure for it to digest
we have been together without interruption
for hours on the phone, like in bed fucking
without it slipping out

need I envy Mercedes Benz you're in
when I'm in a poem, freshly written, being created,
being creative
imagine I'd trade vehicle I'm in for vehicle you're in

if I can't have you, you won't have me either
for whom would it be the greater loss

would you or I have to give up more
you or I who would have to suffer more

stoic that you are, one knows not
what you're suffering or how much

I bare my sorrows, bare my woes
bear my suffering weeping

transparent me, all the world able to see

getting on was one thing, getting off another
what a ride this affair has been

must I ready myself to wave bye
as if you were leaving, going somewhere

leaving town on Father's Day
are you leaving me also, leaving me as well

leaving me what I requested, what I asked for
or because of what I requested
leaving me less than nothing at all

what will I have when
you're gone to Washington DC,
to New York City for two weeks

what to think about, what to eat
what to drink, what to dream about

recently you have been so very mean to me
things we would talk about, joke about

how serious I am about my love for you
love you cannot entertain or understand

she does not acknowledge me as being anything to her
she does not give us a name, how it stings, how it pains

this something that is nothing at all
what is empty of emblem fills me with tears

I cry over what is, that wasn't, that isn't
it is as if the verb to be were a noun
a noun that isn't, that wasn't

reach for love, like water, like mist, like air
it goes through my fingers,
my fingers go through it
able to grasp nothing

I've held her once or twice though
I've lifted her off the ground
giggling in my arms

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written between 12:25 p.m., Thursday,
July 17 and 9:01 p.m.,
Friday, July 18, 2010


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