Art of Air for Hilton Woodside
i.
reconstruct a poem lost
reconfigure thought process
impossible as it is
to make such rivers- any river at all flow twice
egg in my vegetable fried rice tastes nice
pigeon pauses, shits upon the roof top
outside this window I stand before
ii.
standing on air
lovers walk upon
because of delight too great to bear
I am as light, as happy
in love myself like you won't believe
with whom, you won't believe
going to Mexico City, money to raise
God be praised
painting given to me today
I cannot believe
"Cuz!" he calls me
because he is, because we are
we are cousins
his family and mine
from Simms' Long Island
painter and poet,
artists of Long Island descent
orange purple green
make a girl dance
music to which she dances
perfume she wears
paints for five senses
for five centuries
Venus de Milo
at Musée du Louvre
older than the city of Paris
make art to outlive- to out last
who paints, who sculpts
God on the other hand
older than creation
will he start a new one
when this one becomes undone
unravels like straw work
rhythm
steps she makes
to Rachmaninov music
or to do meringue
she is Russian and Caribbean
out of what seeds
did our roots come
out of what seeds
the leaves of trees
the hair on our heads
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
3:18 p.m. 19.08.10
posted by Obie Quiet at 4:15 PM
1 Comments:
Just now realizing this poem wasnt dedicated to me although I seem to be moving in here somewhere some places you would take me and I wouldnt be invited you'd knock graciously and say "this is danthra, she's a poet, she goes to st andrews, she's brilliant" and no one would stop me or you or us in our tracks where is this poem taking you today or yesterday or a some weeks ago when you were walking the streets of bogota or before that when you were wandering in cuba and now Im working at cubana flight you took to purchase gifts for me and takin photos so i could see where you'd prefer I'd be...maybe its because we from long island we gel like so aye thats an amazing painting by the way"
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