All the Sprockets of the Universe
for A.G.M.W.

i.
deep down in her, deep within her
invited, I have ventured

what adventure, what adventures
avenues, roads, the tiniest lanes
I have taken, climbing, descending
at times, around sharp curves

curls of pretty hair, from her pretty head
about her pretty face, falling

was I suppose to fall in love
rain falling, water falls falling
in this landscape, in this script

skipped the uninteresting chapters
into deep waters, warm waters, hot springs

things she has done to me,
I have done to her, we have done together
things she does not even know of
unaware of all that she has initiated

sees the poems: is she able
to decode what is encoded in them

if anyone can, Dee can, I'm certain,
knows how my mind works
how my emotions work

knows how my heart races
when there is a race to be run- to be won

one more love affair to climb out of
or to climb down deeper into

deeper down to go in love
into what is too profound
to speak or write of

this poem captures, tells
but a fraction of the friction
of the rub of palms, bellies, bodies,

hairy crotch against hairless crotch
fact or fiction, nation or imagination

you dreamer, some might say
but what do they know of what I live
of what I've lived, of who I love

my heart fell out
into the pool of her cool waters
and down it sank

I'd drown trying to retrieve it
who can reach it- with what extension

length of this poem, indication,
measurement of the depth to which
I've ventured,
into a girl who is a woman now

flown off, gone off to university
all the sprockets of the universe, spinning
we parts of it, hearts lost in it

in love though, who needs hearts
just as well to have flung them away

what does it matter what day it is
what week or what year

ii.
honey in my tea, Année in my teeth

tear her apart, as hungry for her
as the big bad wolf
was for Little Red Riding Hood

this is a wrong equation though
no longer is she
as helpless as that character
Charles Perrault adopted, adapted

as pretty but woman that she is,
that she has become,
intimidates, is dangerous

is able to cause the paws
of the big bad wolf to shake

I know what she does to me
but I face up, do not back down
though I am overwhelmed by her
or almost

what she is capable of, a mystery
what she is capable of
I invite her to do to me

turn upon me, however ferociously
just do not wish her ever
to turn against me

woman like this,
can she be contained in a dish
dessert to consume with a small spoon

or would she spill out, spill over
go back to the wild in an instant

if she does- if she can, as I suspect
I'd want her to take me with her
captive or free
crazy together, how I'd want us to be

carried away to times atavistic
vacation from sedate, polite, well behaved

know she is capable of departure
one character or another
far removed from her own

or an opportunity- an excuse
to be herself- to be ourselves

in a world where it is disallowed,
not permitted, to growl and purr
and claw and crawl

all the way back, all the way forth
through all the creatures we were
and evolved and evolved

into man and woman, wearing clothes
to climb out of, to fling off
to get on with our wrestling match

sweating it out, without a referee
to rule on what is fair and what is foul

we'd make the two-backed beast
and linked like that we'd go back
to being primal
we'd scream our primal screams

what could I not do or she not do
in such a place
in such a state
on such a date


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 9:00 a.m.,
Saturday, September 24
and 8:05 p.m., Thursday,
September 29, 2011

The Examined
or Unexamined Life
for G.N.M.O.M.

how many layers down
how many layers deep

are you able to look
are you able to see
are you able to read
are you able to reach

mind, trained, a keen mind
able to look through
able to see through

capable of intellectual activity
way out of the ordinary

how many layers down
are you able to read
are you able to reach

how deep is the intellect
how deepened is the intellect

with what delicate matters
is it able to connect

what is it able to collect
re-assort, reassemble

what is it able to make
of the jumble of this world
of the jungle of this world

of the dog-eat-dog
of rat racing with rats

I am concerned about
the point of being-
of the choice of being
more or less human

faced these days
with the choice to kill
or to be killed

in these times, in this place
here where every day is no more
than another day in Paradise

who among us is thinking twice

how many among us acting
without thinking at all


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
4:00 p.m. 14.09.11

Accord of Words
for T.L.A.

I can certainly vacate your landscape
if that is what your wish is
if you wish it, if you're vicious

if you're one of the witches I'm in love with
and must switch with, must switch from

one of the girls I must wave bye to
don't want to but if it is a must that I do
I will, even if the result is that I'd miss you

Miss You, Mr. Me, no longer attached,
as if there were between us, a naval string,
stretching between your belly button
and my belly button

by a poem attached
able to separate if you are or I am
able to pop that, the string, the thing
that a poem is made of

if you can tear tears, go ahead
and pull off, pull out, pull apart
if you want our hearts to break

how unbearable missing you is
how even more unbearable
it would be to loose you,
to lose you: loser you!


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
8:14 p.m. 23.09.11

Mulberry Lips
for A.G.M.W.

what berry is this
that your mouth is full of

what berry is this
that is made of your lips

is it offered to me
or it's offered to the world

I can tell how sweet it is
to suck or chew or swallow whole

after this though
are there others

I am certain I'd want many more
though I am intoxicated
by the thought of what is offered

how sweet and pretty
you are, Année
what a daring girl

you creative artist
with your enticing kiss

you metaphor
you poem

more excited by your "Kiss"
than I am by "The Kiss"
of Auguste Rodin


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
2:00 p.m. 20.9.11

From A Distance Up Close
for A.G.M.W.

unspeakable what she means to me
what she has come to mean to me

must keep it secret even from her
how wrapped up I am in her
she in me, even if she is unaware

timid to wake her up to say,
"Look, Année, honey, how tied we are-
how entangled we are when you thought
you were elsewhere- I was elsewhere

doing our own thing:
your own thing, my own thing

won't want her to know-
don't want her to know
the degree to which we are
doing each other

how I love her freedom
being able to watch from outside
to watch from a distance

her in conversation, in an argument
with someone her age, male or female
engaged in what is intellectually lofty
or something lowdown

every now and then I'd stumble upon
some delicious exchange
some delicious chatter

about,
to have or not to have pussy hairs
to shave or not to shave
or her fuckin' cussin’ somebody
some close friend

I do enjoy being wrapped up
as well as observing:

guilty by stander


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
1:21 a.m. 23.09.11

Captures & Frees
[for John Beadle,
this poem inspired by his painting,
"In Full Bloom"]

what is she looking back at or looking back for
pretty black woman with delicious breasts bare
with nipples protruding - what mood, what situation
is she in, was she caught in

is she caught or is she free of this artist's brush hairs
rubbed into- onto canvas

we use a rubber to rub out effort we want to do away with
what's here, what appears, this artist is proud of

woman I could purchase if I had enough
as much in my pocket as I have love in my heart

I'd pay for her manumission


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
6:13 p.m. 10.08.06

Dear Mr. Prime Minister,
How is it that in this country of ours, persons are allowed to get away with music in vehicles so loud that it shakes the earth and the sky? Do they pay more to license such vehicles - pay more for such a right, for such a ride - pay more to make life for others of us so uncomfortable - more than what is paid by the rest of us with nothing at all in excess - with nothing out of the ordinary?

It seems entirely unfair to the rest of law-abiding us that these persons are allowed to get away with these excesses. This though is one of the big problems in Bahama Land. What are the standards? What is the uniform? How aught a Bahamian to behave in The Bahamas? Why is more not done to establish and to maintain such a code?

Such persons are being allowed to GET AWAY WITH MURDER, as the saying goes. Why are such extremes in behavior allowed, more and more, to become HABIT? I tell you and you know very well already, that when behavior is allowed to become ingrained as it were - like a stain - it is that much more difficult to undo - that much more difficult to get out or to uproot.

I see around me and from year to year and more and more, the worst habits - the worst practices allowed to go unchallenged. Why these are so blaring for me is because this is so contrary to how I was brought up. This is so contrary to how DISCIPLINE is established. I was disciplined because I was loved. We discipline our children because we love them. Are we to conclude that the children or citizens of this nation of ours are not loved? Do they love their nation to abuse it and to traumatize it as they do? Would someone who loves his land or her land litter as I see people do - young and old - male and female? They just drop or fling anything anywhere.

There is this entire dynamic that I see that is NOT being addressed in the NATION building process. What is addressed? Murder. A lot of attention is given after someone is a murderer or a murder victim. These murders though are tied to littering are tied to this excessively loud music that is allowed to go unchallenged - that is not addressed.

Why to The Bahamas has the law not yet come which disallows cigarette smoking in public places and why is the law concerning burning or lighting fires without a permit not enforced? I see your government and you react to what you consider the BIG things - the economy and crime - when it is OUT OF HAND. What I do not see enough attention being paid to are the fine things - the finer things - the finest things.

The fine negative things as well as the fine positive things are as if occurring in a world apart. You neglect the things I complain of above and you neglect the nation's artists and the nation's art. You neglect the nation's poetry and the nation's poets. The country I live in as an artist, with the beauty I labor to make and to add, and with the things which are offensive to my soul - which offend me to the core, are as if occurring in a world or in a country apart from the one you govern.

I have been wondering, along with another artist-friend, from a prominent political family, I might add, if it is even worth it to register or to vote. It shall make no difference for us one way or another whether the FNM or the PLP is in power. What do they care of what our concerns are? What do they care for our refinement and sensibilities or for a REFINED NATION that is Paradise not just for tourists but for us ALL?

This is a rough, harsh place we like in and our politicians seem to like it JUST SO. It might be because of how well paid you are once you are in power. You can afford to live away - apart from the harsh reality of the life most of the rest of us have to deal with - have to face.

Obediah Michael Smith.
1:54 p.m.
07.09.11

Mind Around Spanish
Spanish Around My Mind
for Emilia Villalobos

all kinds of ways
to wander away from Spanish

all kinds of things to wonder about
to contemplate, besides

owe it to Emilia
and to all our afternoons together

in that room, at that round table
at Universidad de Costa Rica,
in San Jose

to attach to Spanish
to be attached to it
to maintain attachment

she labouring away
to make me belong to it
to make it belong to me

I've a certificate now as well
sent through the post

with the university's
president's signature
affixed to it

to say that I did attend
that I did study

must have something
to show for it, in terms
of knowledge of Spanish

sound of the rain outside
at present,
my having to go quickly

close the windows
of my house on all sides

cause me to recall Emilia
and me and our lessons
and when it would rain

the rain would beat in
and we would, together
shut that one window
in our small room

I'd have to spend six months
Emilia suggested

to get a really good grip
good grasp of Spanish
to get a handle on it

oh, the many other things
I have to get a handle of
to get a handle on

art that is a language
that is universal

poetry the language
I speak well

I miss Emilia and Costa Rica
and the struggle learning was

what good company she was
to look forward to
each week-day

week-ends without her
while with her,
were long


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
8:44 p.m. 11.09.11