Thursday, June 10, 2010


Graduation Girl
for D'Anthra Branica Adderley

how threatened are we, is love, is what we have
is fancy, fantasy up against reality, do these compete

can what is imagined, imaginary, with what is real, compete
can love withstand life's exigencies, its ups and downs
this earth, this world's going round and round

world which spun up together, put us together
will it spin us apart, take us apart

bits and pieces of love, petals here and there
of what was a flower, a flowering tree or a flowering plant

oh, I should, this evening, provide her with flowers
or today send her flowers, somewhere, somehow, someway

this poem full of petals, some attached, some fallen
shall have to suffice

she was sleepy last night, when she took and sent pictures
and she had a tummy ache, shared her face with me anyway

sweetest person I know, sweetest girl in the world
what is it, what is this that I am in love with

who is it- who she is or who she isn't
do I know the self she knows- love the self, the soul she loves

what of D'Anthra her mother conceived, delivered,
kept, knows, loves, is anxious about

from what perspective do I see her, know her,
how do I love her, see her, compared with her father

am I prepared really to love her forever
will I love her whatever happens, comes, turns up
ugly, pretty or whatever

what will become of her love for me- of my love for her
will they grow or will they die

require a grave or will love we know, love we share
come from the sky, again touch heaven

what of her grandparent's love and mine
how do these compare

where has this love of ours come from
where will it take her, take me, take us

will it take us together- will it take us apart
will we tell the world of us
will she forever have to keep us a secret

I on the other hand wanting the world to know
wanting to tell the world

am I telling to be rid of us
like sins we confess to get rid of

Lord God Almighty, I want us to keep
I am only now getting to know her

flower that she is is sour and sweet
flowers and fruit, fresh a short time

oh God Almighty is she not a tree
has she not got seasons
must I not prune and tend her, must I not be tender

even as LOVE that you are are
loving us with hurricane and lightning
with sunshine and rain


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
8:08 a.m. 10.06.10

2 Comments:

Anonymous D.A. said...

OBI wow this is truly truly a masterpiece. Absolute perfection. The rhyme is so exciting and so right. This gata get you the Nobel Prize ...at least for love.

Friday, June 11, 2010 12:56:00 AM  
Blogger Obie Quiet said...

Yur sweet an' yur kine. I always happy when I reach you - when I touch you. I am always happy when we are connected. Is there any name, any label for our relationship? Are we to continue without name and without label still? I want to call it something. I do know what I call it though. What I want to know is what you call it - what you call me? How do you refer to us even in your own heart and head? How do you refer to us to yourself? You are the blood and the life in me.

Friday, June 11, 2010 4:03:00 PM  

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