Poem on her Birthday
for D’Anthra B. Adderley

i.
she’d snap at me, snarl at me
the way a dog gone mad
or born mad might, at the one
at the hand providing it food
providing its food

like a mad dog, bad dog might
she might bite the hand
feeding her, the one
feeding her, caring for her

the one who cares for her
she might bark at, she might bite

might bite who is inviting her
to love,
to play,
to have a good day
a happy birthday

ii.
intertwine, intertwined,
her beating heart and mine
bouncing off each other

her mind and mine, thinking,
ticking in time
I am hers and she is mine

do I pay too much
do I purchase or is love free

does she love me, how deeply
confessed as much, a time or two
usually, she keeps it to herself

love is use, is need, I’d at times think

outside of usefulness,
of need for me, how do I figure in
am I factored in,
in the scheme of things
in the theme of things

she and I, some sort of team
sort of team Cynthia Sue Fisher
and I were in ’76,
when I was approaching 22
and she was approaching 19

my birthday, March 30th
hers, April 13th

it is D’Anthra’s 19th birthday today
just about the age CSF was
when what we had,
when what we shared
was stormy and wonderful

Dee does not know what to call us
I call us lovers, think of us as such

way I love her, need love no other
not the same for her

ashamed of me or is she
should I be ashamed of her
to be seen in public
as we sometimes are

how delicious such contact is
such meetings are

oh the memories we made
and left in Starbucks, out Bay
before they closed their doors

we were in there, day before
they were no more

more to us though, to us two
to go on living for

iii.
examine our closeness, our close knit
how close knit we are
close enough to get stepped on

what of to get slept on
to get to sleep on

well, she’s done that, she does that
only not upon my chest,
upon the phone

I’d hold on, I’ve held on
while she snored

music of that like tide washing up
like some beach we were on

but on the shore of sleep and wake
we’d gather sometimes
we’ve gathered sometimes

at times so intertwined, so integrated
I have trouble breathing

like when love of her
has such a grip upon me
such a hold of me
when it clutches, grips like death

don’t mind when I feel
that I might die of love
I’d fear a bit but I’d give in to it
give in to her

at times her love for me
is that strong force, strong bond
that is the reason/justification
physicists give
for the orbiting in atoms

whatever law governs atoms
governs planets, their orbiting
governs love, governs lovers
governs her and me, why we met
and almost ever since
hardly live or spend a day apart

some way or other,
some excuse or other
to connect, to stay together
to remain connected

iv.
sliver of a relationship
on the boarder of her world

end of my wits about
how to relieve her of underwear,
of panties and bra

unable to get her out
of those she has on, buy her more

win some and lose some
beat um or join um

what am I thinking of settling for
not for settling down
not for sinking down
or for sink or drown
or swim or drown

treading water in this relationship
in this country I love
in this country of love

my God, I shall have to be well
I shall have to be happy

Dee called to say, O.K., we’ll meet
at Via Caffè, on Parliament St.
at or just after 4 p.m. today

v.
in and out of being an adult
back and forth between
being an adult and being a baby

between being a baby and being
my baby

frustrate the frustrations out of me
frustrate the F out of me

pulling me, pushing me
humming and hauling me

calling me, waving goodbye to me
or turning away without a word

to turn her head, her cheeks
for kisses hello
or kisses goodbye
the biggest difficulty

how could we ever live in Paris
with her unable
to receive such kisses naturally

one minute, back-a-der-bush
next minute, able to critique
my poetry of her
or any, or the loftiest literary works
able herself to write sublime poetry

God how she confuses me
with her vacillating between worlds
between identities
my head turning this way, that way

her birthday, unable to reach
Vaughn Scriven’s Photography
to get the master,
with an eye for women
to agree to locate her
for photographs on her birthday

her last teenage year to wear
before she drops this decade
like a house coat, like a snake sloughing
like a goat dropping a kid

who is it that I am going with
or coming and going with

unsure if I’m going or coming
most of the time in this divine
relationship, in this ship of love
or ship of state, our state
of affairs or affair of state


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written on D’Anthra 19th birthday,
on Thursday, November 11, 2010
between 3:30 a.m. and 9:12 p.m.