Sunday, August 21, 2011

for E.M.T. & L.M.


who told you
that this was a poetic moment
that this was a poetic place

wherever the poet reaches
whenever she or he arrives
place, time, pierced by poet's mind
by poet's pen becomes poetic

poetic is whatever, wherever, whomever
a poet baptizes in verse, whenever

how does place and time differ
in the eyes, in the hands
of just anyone with a camera

snapping pictures, compared with
when Steve McCurry arrives

or when Henri Cartier-Bresson leaves
with what he has filled his eyes with
when and after his camera clicks

can a place- a time resist
being made art of,
being poetize, being baptized
when art, when artist comes along
to bless it
to make time and place blessed

look at where Georgia O'Keeffe went
look at what, at where
she chose to make art of
to make art-love, to love with art

want to take back the earth
make it- cause it to spin art-wards,
art-ways - take it away
from the unholy day
creation is more and more becoming

in the hands of world leaders
misleading us, whirling this world
around the wrong way

and us with it, in it, on it

wheel of the world in the fists of convicts
in danger, all of us
for all of us, the risk of going over a cliff
around the next bend
up the next precipice

art hands, artists' hands to drive us
to steady the spinning world

important that its turning is not felt
important to be able to look out
at the horizon, where sea meets sky

look out and see that straight line
this meeting is, this meeting makes


how delicious you looked
I wanted to see it all
I wanted to eat it all
I wanted to lick the dish

oh, all over you, one single skin
eyes over you like hands over you
visit every bit, every inch, every part

would your heart beat fast
were you exposed like this

eyes to clothe you in,
to take you in, to drink you down

up to my neck, up to my chin
or out in the deep of you
I'd have to swim or I could drown
I could go down

I'd need to come up for air
might choose not to

tragedy or salvation
to perish in the dish that you are
that you're in

in your bowl of soup
soup dish to sip from
to have supper from

am I beating around the bush again
must I get to the point
come to the point
or lose the attention you pay so well

I want to see you naked
I want to kiss you
suck your breasts nipples

without a stitch of clothes on
what I wonder
would it be like together

too far too fast
I must tell you what I'm thinking
where my mind went

where eyes- hands want to roam
where I wish to plant kisses

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 2:00 p.m. and 7:46 p.m.
on Saturday, August 20, 2011


Anonymous d.a. said...

another muse
for you
to use
to loose
to lose

Monday, August 22, 2011 8:04:00 PM  
Blogger Obie Quiet said...

I have used you, I have loosed you and I have lost you, DBA? Is that the full cycle - a poet's fate - an inevitable process? Is the loosing a liberation? Is that why you are able to write such a successful haiku? Is that why - is that what you are celebrating? These 12 syllables are quite brilliant by the way.

Monday, August 22, 2011 8:45:00 PM  

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