Friday, January 07, 2011

Dresses In A Closet
for D.B.A., O.E.P.,
R.H., S.F., G.M. & S.A.

you are a little ass
as big as your ass is

a similar inverse relationship
involved in our being involved
in redefining culture

with you usin' what
der culture teach you
to respond to- to react to
things I do to you, say to you, do for you

how fuckin' upsetting, how pure in heart
how open-handed, open-minded

someone, with the Holy Spirit,
permits me to be with you

the miracles our being
connected as we are permit
opportunity to move culture along
Bahamian life along, along socially

holy work we engage in
we're engaged in
and you hold back
hold us back, hold us up
react to me as if
I were some negative

all I give you, treated as if
I were robbing you,
as if I had robbed you
as if what the Holy Spirit
gave, provided,
were by the devil given

to be suspicious of
to bad-mouth,
bad minded, suggesting that
I was- that art was

what is it that you are valuing
beyond what we are doing
making, effecting, transforming
you and me included

and you insult it, insult us
so much priceless
so much precious
down the drain

so many pearls
hand full after hand full
trampled into mud

a pen with pigs, with swine,

so much caviar, similarly
thrown to- fed to pigs

rotten fish or these
expensive fish eggs
no difference to them

how you insult me, insult life
little of it I have left,
you squander

what a hog you are
to act as you do
to treat me as you do

this fuckin' culture
we call ours
I don't call mine

you have certainly
bought into it
you believe in it
I do not

you is his frien', ah
y'all two was hot

y'all wasn' backin' down
from der devil or his brudder
nor his sister

y'all wasn' backin' down
from his offspring neither

invitin' us ta be as brave
ta take over, ta take back
vee lan' an' vee culture
ta take vee life back
take back what we
abandon too easy

y'all was hot ta start der year
preach like you preach, Fr. Pinder

Fr. Hamilton, who is also
a medical doctor
prayin' like he pray
ta launch 2011
like it was a new ship

bread an' wine fur all present
to bless us, ta baptize us all

against a ship setting sail
smash a un-open bottle
a Champagne

anointed by tongues of fire
day of Pentecost reoccurring

lit your torches there
brought them all this way
in time to light our fires

I have never gone so all out
after anyone nor after anything either
that I can recall

seem to insist that my pursuit of you
is just as difficult or twice as difficult
as your pursuit of IB

what diploma in the end
will I be awarded
for all that I am put through
pushed through
all the hoops to leap through

you with your whip
I once king of the jungle
now your pet kitten

suck your pussy,
how else can I thank you

coca plums and sugar apples
full of these
and quite a bit sweeter

a few bites sweeter
than rum cake, fruit cake
inebriate like your mother's wine
from Argentina

grapes in a bottle
how many of them
how many fruit
and of what infinite variety
in the bottle, in the battle
in the batter

outcome, what you're made of
we're made of- I'm made of

mix we make of you
to make the whirl better

so glad you're mixed
in this old world,
this whole world

a newer place, a better place
place for chess- for checkers pieces

your move, my darling - Margo moves
expects she can see what I haven't
love what/love like I've been
observing/loving a long time

what shapes, what colors
Bahamian limes or our good times

poems to put them in
to keep them,
I make from scratch
like books you make
this or that stitch
to hold together spirit
her story and his
our culture and theirs

when I love you too much for words
when I'm too in love with you for words
I pick up poetry, I put poetry down

when I want to tell you
what I could not otherwise tell you

when what you have told me
has left me overwhelmed
to get back at you, get back to you
verse and nothing but would do

fire to rely upon or not to be relied upon
one which having met you lit
this or that twist or turn and out
and dark and cold in an instant

used to flukes like these, to flimflam
this one, that one

imagine a meeting has changed your life
look back, wake up to find
you're just the same,
not a thing has changed

nothing extraordinary
same old ordinary world

beginning to convince me-
to be convinced that the difference
you have made
transformation, meeting you
knowing you effected

will not be reversed
love of life and earth
increased so many folds

will hold, is real, will not end
when I wake up

magical realism
way of life for me too now

unbelievable to believe in
as real as air to breathe in

my two ringing ears to abide
along with love, along with
you to love me till I die
to love until I die

need to learn to get on with life
in her absence, in the absence
of hearing from her

almost said, as she does in my absence
in the absence of hearing from me

but she is seldom deprived
of hearing from me
I provide her, supply her
with so many words
with so very near all of my thoughts

reveal to her what I feel
what I am feeling
in so much detail

discovered recently, interestingly
that she suffers just as I do
when she has to live
even for a day without word
e-mail freshly written,
poems from me, as I do
when I must go and go, on and on
without word from her
without responses, reactions
without a phone call

which reminds me, I have not heard
her voice this year

near to tears because of it
because of this, to think of it

that sounds deep, she said
silly self, silly girl, upon hearing
that my most recent poem of her
has very likely caused me
a relationship

she's married, securely attached still
and my one girl, girl I have half of
or less, has up and left for good
or for a while or for a time

though she seldom comes right out
and says it, unfaithful,
even with my pen can
upset her apple cart
upset her deeply

can set us- can pull us apart
poem I wrote for a married friend
of whom I pen poems
with whom I flirt when I shop
when she happens to be
the person keeping shop

right there where the old year
was ending, new year commencing
she and I, as if we would dismantle us
as if she nor I gave a damn

but as always, soon enough
after much agony, we come again
to our senses and to each other return

turned around, changed,
I transform her, she transforms me
again and again

bare, what we wear
in words alone dressed
my address, the woman I love

could I have addresses
as many as dresses,
hanging in a closet

pretty women have so many
these two woman,
their feet in slippers
their toes painted, Oh how I love them
love what is feminine
to pick like petals of flowers
fragrant and colorful

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written on New Years Day,
between 7:30 a.m. 6:12 p.m.,
Saturday, January 1, 2011


Anonymous d.a. said...

Here I am desiring to write a book of my life and you do that time and time again. All these poems will certainly make a very interesting and profound recount of the myself and our bond. This will be quite the story to tell or poem to share with my grandchildren. What surpasses even your poetry Obediah is your undying love and unrelenting dedication to me. Thank you very much for everything you are an an ANGEL!

Friday, January 07, 2011 3:51:00 PM  
Blogger Obie Quiet said...

Dee, you can put a wall up if you wish as you are often and foolishly inclined to do. You can put a few walls up, I am going to speak my heart anyway. This must be among the very deepest things you have ever said to me. It touched my heart, evoked tears. This is the other side of D'Anthra, the side that is this awesome woman, the side that is certainly not still a child. You know what I thought and have to share though though I know that it is thoughts like these that cause you to want to resist all you can even what or even if it is what is inevitable and it does not at all have to be but I did have this thought: WHAT IF YOUR GRANDCHILDREN ARE MY GRANDCHILDREN? What if the miracle that is responsible for our having met and for my having fallen in love with you causes this too to come to pass? My God, Dee, I would certainly then not have any reason to regret having lived. Such a thing would certainly be the crowning of my having come into being. That would be a glorious occurrence. I would then have lived an extraordinary life after all. All the frustrations and all the struggle to get to know you and to get near you and to become one would then have been worth it. I'd not then have strained and strained without ever having defecated. This image though is not the symbol I wish to make and leave. What is in my heart and head is the antithesis of straining to defecate. I AM devoted to you, Dee. I most certainly am. Heaven knows why. Obediah does not. I am faithful to heaven and to you. That is what I am. I live to love you. That is what I do. Nothing and no one more important to me on the planet. I'm feeling sick again. Include me in your prayers, please! Your prayers are so very efficacious. You are priceless! You are precious!

Saturday, January 08, 2011 1:43:00 AM  

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