for E.M.T. & L.M.
i.
Ellen
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
ii
Lasheena
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
2 Comments:
another muse
for you
to use
to loose
to lose
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.
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