Friday, December 31, 2010

With Chop Sticks Fight
for D.B.A., A.R-M., P.J.W. & F.F.

there is something about
where history and where
personal choices meet
where what will happen will meet
what we decide and do
meets what we ourselves choose

people in high places
with what seems to them-
to us too to be, ultimate power
arranging, rearranging, disarranging

what they wish, as they wish
until what set things into being
and into motion- got things going
before who came along to usurp this chair
this thrown, came along, kicks in again
takes over again, to cause creation
and everything in it,
to go in the direction intended

oh the forces pulling forth and back
rope between them or see-saw
with weight on two sides like a scale
one to win, the other to lose
or balance to strike

who comes into this world
bringing light
who goes out of this world
bringing night

what strong emotions
between us occurring, existing

we were together here
on her birthday, November 11
when she turned 19

always dramatic when I am with her
when we are together, wherever

but especially when alone together
in public together

entirely alone, at home, at my house
she shuts down or almost

fun when we meet in this or that cafe
delightfully, sparks fly

what a range of emotions
shared between us
would pass between us
have passed between us

have passed between us
since we met

what next, what more
the sky to touch yet

the back of her throat
the neck that's her cervix
to thrust open or to ease open
with what heaven
has provided me to reach
into her with

length and breadth, height and depth
of her to explore, woman I adore

Jesus, I must exit this rest room
away from my table all of this time
they must think I'm shitting

they'd think that I had been
think that I was

8 billion leaves on a tamarind tree
on a family tree

all able to access sunlight
all able to benefit equally
from the roots of the tree
however deep they grow or go
searching out, searching for
benefit and to replenish
what would otherwise diminish
in the world, in the whirl,
in the whirling world

outfit her, able to afford to
to afford it, my fit exactly

needs she might have
what she'd accept

someone I am willing
to take on after all
able to take on
put on or take off

like underpants I like best
I like best to wear

like blessing when we meet
blessing actually when we met
since we met

like raindrops, like snow flakes
like flower petals falling
like dew drops dropping
on everything, everywhere

like evening falling
like night fall

just a dollar-fifty,
beggar in Paradise
requiring a favor
requesting a sum of money
this sum of money from me

with what hard eyes

he fixes me to the wall
I lean against

demanding what he assumes
he has a right to

gotten into my pen
onto my page, into my poem

become the subject of my song

what am I writing about
when I do not know
what the fuck is going on
yet I write about it on and on
in such detail

I do not know what is going on
who is running things
or ruining things
or putting things right again

drug dealer, similarly
does not know what is going on
what lives are being lost
which lives are being saved

so many in society
attentive to their own needs
to only what they want
to what they will get
out of everyday of life
out of every day they live

even out Prime Minister
other ministers of government
all around the world

are they aware of anything
outside of their own personal sphere
do they care

what it is- who it is
who cares for us all
who orchestrates it all

live our lives, let other pieces
other persons, fall where they may
and every day anyway anywhere
take care of ourselves, make sure
our own shelves are stocked out
with books or food or both

boats upon the water,
wither are they going
some overturning
along with cars long the road

I was certainly reluctant
to have sex with her
but sex with her sister
was a tight tight affair

it was difficult as the devil
to open her
with what was not
yet entirely grown

we were both in our teens still
we were in love, attracted to-
attached to- to each other drawn
had to have piece
had to find corners to hide away in

waited for darkness to blanket us
to veil us, to meet in

did we fuck or attempt to
more than just that once

regret still those times, years later
having intercourse with her sister

wiped her pussy one night, one time
with tissue,
returned from the bathroom
continued where we left off
bits and pieces of toilet tissue
she'd wiped with, left behind in her vagina
ended up on my dick
discovered there when we were done
when we switched lights on

how scornful it seemed
how mystified I was
until we together figured out
where tissue, in her, on me
bits and pieces
had come from

intercourse with a woman
I was not in love with
was not at all elegant

black and white, no way at all
to talk about people

films are black and white
people are far more than
and about far more than
skin color

skin color though
is as varied almost, or more so
than the colors and textures
of flower petals

black and white films
black and white hardly the sum
or sum total of what- of who
people are

some of us, not at all interested
in fitting into or falling into
these narrow categories
like train rails for the human race
to run on or to run off

derailed already, a race
that sees or defines itself
in such terms

I watch black and white films
see black and white photographs

I watch people,
I see more than
their black-and-whiteness

is our affair deepened
when we argue
when we with words fight
with words, cross swords

recall when we were happiest
sword fighting with chop sticks

silly sweetheart and I, moment of bliss
between us shared

in what sharp juxtaposition
to when we argue, when we fight,
when fires ignite

how exquisite, how we put them out
she and I, committed
to extinguishing them
with minimal destruction
with minimal damage

is our affair deepened
when we argue, when we
with words cross swords

we are where we are, after 18 months
connected after
so many blissful patches
following breaking up

breaking up and making up
making love and making poetry

in our business,
in the business of the arts, of artists
easy as pie for the mind to flip over
to end up mentally on the wrong side

how very near I've come, I've been
to such a state, to such a place

to do what I do, to create as I do
to be creative as I choose to be
as I've been chosen to be
and not to have gone mad
is for me a blessing,
a reward that no money can purchase

I prefer soundness of mind
to millions in the bank

I'd like both
but to have one or the other
give me mental health

health of body and soul added
and what have I to regret
or could I regret

money is overrated
air underrated
light and water underrated
peace of mind, peace on earth

money makes the world go round
they say, but does it

who has made the earth round
makes it go round

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written on Tuesday,
between 11:35 a.m. and 11:33 p.m.
on December 28, 2010


Anonymous Anonymous said...

A Holiday Thought...

Aren't humans amazing? They kill wildlife - birds, deer, all kinds of cats, coyotes, beavers, groundhogs, mice and foxes by the million in order to protect their domestic animals and their feed.

Then they kill domestic animals by the billion and eat them. This in turn kills people by the million, because eating all those animals leads to degenerative - and fatal - health conditions like heart disease, stroke, kidney disease, and cancer.

So then humans spend billions of dollars torturing and killing millions more animals to look for cures for these diseases.

Elsewhere, millions of other human beings are being killed by hunger and malnutrition because food they could eat is being used to fatten domestic animals.

Meanwhile, few people recognize the absurdity of humans, who kill so easily and violently, and once a year send out cards praying for "Peace on Earth."

~Revised Preface to Old MacDonald's Factory Farm by C. David Coates~


Anyone can break this cycle of violence! Everyone has the power to choose compassion! Please visit these websites to align your core values with life affirming choices: &

Monday, January 03, 2011 2:16:00 PM  
Blogger aromaproductions said...

Hi Obi,

Your poem, "With Chop Sticks Fight" appear to be about our social, psychological, moral and environmental struggles.It is my intepretation. Each stanza explores a different topic but they are interrelated. I find they that they are all about evolving and maybe finding where we fit in this universe.

The first stanza is about choices and change, personal struggles and revolutions, seeking solutions. The second stanza seems more personal as it delves into the evolution of a relationship. Don't know if the "reaching into her," is a sexual as well as an intellectual probing. The third seems to revolve around nature and the fact that nature is evolving just like human beings. We share the same environment. We face the same fate when nature rages. The fourth stanza is personal again but down the line the subject of the poem changes from female to male. You will have to explain that change to me. I am of the impression that the speaker is not sure if this relationship is a blessing or a burden. The speaker ia questioning the relationship or maybe is overwhelmed by it. The last stanza ia general and thus the poem comea full circle. It appears to question our day to day struggles or shall I say it reflects on life and its mental and physical effects. It questions things of which we have little control,questions our place in the universe--our quiet evolution because we are always evolving one way or the other.

I "fight with chopsticks" ia symbolic of our daily struggle.

althea romeo-mark

Thursday, January 06, 2011 6:45:00 AM  

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