Biggety as you are, Dee,
how conservative you are,
how shy to try what is impossible-
poetry as well is about expressing
or attempting to express,
what it is impossible to express
for D.B.A.
wanta reach into this culture
and pull out a story
before I can pull it out,
I might have to live it, we might have to
should we miss such an opportunity
is it not an opportunity to be embraced
as impossible as our love story is to live
should we not live it, lift it
like boulders into place
are we not going to
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
3:51 a.m. 31.01.11
[These words, thoughts
inspired just as "Fried Green Tomatoes"
concluded].
Damn Nation
for D.B.A.
my God, how different this island is
without Dee on it
what impact she has upon me
how she has penetrated me
has gone through me
done this with a boyfriend in one hand
and me, exasperated, in the other
with text books and other books open before her
with assignments without end to complete
before one deadline after another
in addition, writing poems
her most recent ones, among the best
by anybody in the nation
she is phenomenal
my God, I'd cuss, undo her, take her apart
without any sign of having wounded her
without any sign of lasting damage
of damage lasting
she'd just pass through
the roughest winds, inevitable blows
of a relationship and keep right on trucking
chucking higher up the hill
a relationship is to climb
does this better almost
that any woman I have ever known
we grow though she limits our growing
too very quickly, our going
too very far too quickly
but we do grow, we are not this week
where we were a week ago
without end, we deepen understanding
strengthen our agreement
I'd wounder sometimes
if I'd be dead before I fuck her
but I fuck her this way,
that way always, anyway
she fucks me too, says, fuck you
with or without words
I'd say, fuck you, I'd say it often
goes to church regularly
thinks of this word as a bad word,
insist I desist from using it
she has her mind on going to heaven
on getting in and does not want to be
held up at the gate with a lot to explain
interrogated by Peter
Jesus, she allows little or nothing
to transpire between us
refuses to allow me to touch or hug her,
kiss or lift her
as if she feared I'd strip her clothes off
or if I got near her, next to her,
up against her,
she'd be unable to resist stripping herself
she's afraid of something
where we're concerned
I want to nail her, she says
but she wants me to
it is that that she is
even more afraid of
I'd not fuck her just like that though
and possibly impregnate her
though I wish it were possible
to get carried away, to be carried away together
eat her pussy, lick her ass like ice cream
fuck her in her ass and elsewhere
in whatever opening she'd receive me
catch afire or melt like snow balls
or melt like lumps of sugar in hot tea
God was having with his supper or with his wife
© Obediah Michael Smith. 2011
9:42 p.m. 27.01.11
Life Everlasting
for D.B.A.
i.
I'm not going to let you
turn me into some cliché
some cliché in your head
of what a man wants
of what a man is
that you are certain I fit
or insist that I do
I do not and I will not
labor too hard and too long
to cultivate individuality
for you to come along
to suppose what I am
in spite of what I reveal
sensitive, varied, in love with you
or is it your lack of self-regard
or self-respect or self-esteem
that causes you
to lower me and what I feel
to reduce adoration to crude desire
to an obsession to nail you
it is as crude as crucifixion
and as sacrilegious
what you do to love
suspect it of, accuse it of
ii.
adult enough for my dick to fit
since you insist
I am an adult,
she stubbornly asserted
her mother in the room
where she is, she with me
in conversation on the phone
she thinks she is
as grown up as we are
as much right to her voice
her will, her wishes
to her own way
as we have to ours
adult enough for my dick to fit
since you insist
another tree in the forest
as tall as we are
with a trunk as thick
with a thick skull
iii.
you have to mean it, she said
you mean I don't mean it
when I pray, when I say
I believe in God, in love
when I say love upon a cross
was crucified
you mean I don't have faith
you mean my faith is not real
less real than holy rollers
rolling along
less real than yours
because you attend church
religiously on Sundays
Jesus, how jealous I am
about the fact that
it is your boyfriend's dad
who pastors the church
you attend
we have priests
and we have parishes
we have our diocese
we have the Province
of the West Indies
and the entire Anglican faith
our Anglican communion
presided over at present
by Rowan Williams,
Arch Bishop of Canterbury,
who, I understand,
like you and me, is a poet
we do not have a church though
which is like a night club
or some other business
which someone can own
don't like you belonging
to what is like a religious
closed shop, like a clothes shop
rather than
a place, a source of enlightenment
place to let the light
of heaven in, in a great flood
why settle for a pool of light
when you can have the ocean,
my angel, my lady, my love
you resent, reject the idea
of being mine
I hope it is in our cards
hope it is the wish of heaven
that we have children
that you'll have my children
1 or 2 or 3 or 4
before this life of mine is done
before this life of man is over
you and I, with 4 children
between us, can you imagine
will you teach them, like you
to drink sodas, to eat pork
however my darling will we get along
you are at once compliant
and stubborn
you have been stubborn
to keep me where you have
as you have
I am happy for the fruit
of that stubbornness
happy of your having
insisted upon us
iv.
I am bringing her up
all over again
impossible though it is
as impossible as it is
she'd slipped somewhat
through the cracks
I'm bringing her back
winning her back
getting her back on track
oh the missing parts
I labor to fill in
with all my poems of her
with all my pens
with all my notebooks
with all my notes online
like journal entries
I immediately share
when she'd call
we'd converse joyously
or I'd cuss her, fuss her
only reward for all my labor
commitment, dedication
is what is lacking
see Françoise Gilot
shed her dress, let it drop
before Picasso
wearing nothing besides,
beneath it but nakedness
I’d wish with me you were as free
wish I was as blessed, as lucky
wish Nassau was Paris
wish Kemp Road was heaven
it is when you drop in
when you drop by or it can be
only you withhold heaven
from me
I am bringing her up
all over again like beans,
like wheat, like barley,
like sugar cane
thank God for rain
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 2:40 p.m.
on Saturday, January 22 and 2:23 p.m.
on Sunday, January 23, 2011
Pajamas
for D.B.A.
i.
loving you on one side
then on the other side
is that what I am doing
with antipathy, empathy, sympathy
how many sides have you anyway
sweetheart, sweet pickle
right-side-up, up-side-down
right side, left side
on your back and on your belly
what part of you or side of you
my darling, have I not visited
what spot of your anatomy
have I not kissed
what opening in your anatomy
has poetry not been in
have I not poked or shoved in
with pencil, with pen
my tongue longs to follow
long tongue to follow
wherever it leads you
wherever or whatever
it leads to
ii.
wall up, walled in, walled out
on the outside of it
pressed up against it
like I was up against the wall
of Hemingway's house
in Key West once
with a pen, with note book
staring through, staring into mystery
thousands of lines of verse
written in amazement
written to marvel at her
imagine she is wonderful
imagine she is not
or that she is and is flawed
all that I marvel at, wonder about
is for her entirely commonplace
as commonplace as my own anatomy
I live in always, I sit up in now
clothed in pajamas
body I nurse, feed, relieve
to hers, to herself, she has
the very same relationship
what I write poems about
make windows in the wall
in the world to see or try to
she has immediate access to
can button up or unbutton
can zip up or unzip
is it her clothes though
that poems zip open
that I with pen unbuttons
or do I- do they- do these
unbutton, unzip body and soul
what clothes clothe, hide
part of the trinity of things
one element of three elements of her
layers of her I wish to get at
to bare, be with, lie with, lay with
all these poems, this effort
this yearning for what
a wall up, walls in, walls out
wall as thin or as thick
as her will, her willingness
to let me or not let me see
any way to earn the right to
have I not that right
having, with my pen,
penetrated all the way
to the core of the matter
heart upon a platter
penetrated to the soul of her soul
to the soles of the feet
of this flat-footed gyal
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written on Friday, January 21, 2011
between 8:10 a.m. and 2:53 p.m.
Take or Leave
Leaf or Leaves
for D.B.A.
what is indicated by your regretting
that we ever met or what we have shared
or are sharing or your wanting what we are
reduced to just friends
indicate a lack of love of art
or an indifference which could
just as easily not mind at all
if Shakespeare's 154 Sonnets
were wiped out of literature
along with his 37 plays
or if Shakespeare himself were erased
indicate such an indifference about art
that it would not have mattered
if what Michelangelo left upon the ceiling
of the The Sistine Chapel and if
Michelangelo also were wiped out
were extracted from the Renaissance
since we are deleting, let's get rid of
Beethoven's Ninth and Fifth
as well while we are at it
and you would not notice
or would not have noticed
let's erase Beethoven's Hammerklavier
and his Pathetique Sonatas
how about Pushkin and everything he wrote
everything he has left us
and how about Tchaikovsky
and everything he ever composed or conducted
would you notice Bach's absence
if he and everything he ever composed
went the way of bubbles a child blew
added to the air, from some soapy solution
what is it that my being in your life
that your being in art, makes inconvenient
what is it that I or we have interrupted
what is it or who is it that you love so much more
than art than us
in addition to having given little or given nothing
you are mean enough, an oaf enough,
to want to take away more than you have contributed
how about all the leaves off trees while we are at it
you do not seem to understand
what is connected to what
where air comes from or where life comes from
what is it that you want to be left with
just do not touch your piece a pork chop I suppose
nothing else is sacrosanct
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
11:25 p.m. 20.01.11
Cardboard Circle
for D.B.A.
i.
her ability to show up is my salvation
her silly attempts to keep me
to satisfy me,
as meager as are these rewards
these are all the world to me
all I have or want of the world
well aware and right about
my being hopelessly in love
why I am, I am unaware
in spite of all the things I find wrong
in spite of all I nit-pick to complain about
I am hopelessly, helplessly in love
and she is convinced of it, aware of it
and wants little or nothing to do with it
does not know what to do with it
don't know what to do with myself
in the state I'm in
fuck denying or trying to deny
that I am afflicted as I am
madly in love, blindly in love
hopeless and helpless
as much at her mercy
as a man can be
ii.
she has been herself in my presence
in my presence, upon a few occasions
I've gotten a glimpse of who she is actually
awkward and unbelievably lovely
this truth she has let me see
she often lets me- has allowed me to see
I have seen her bare, I do see her bare
one can lie with all their clothes on the floor
she has shown me herself bare
with all her clothes on
only upon reflection, do I realize
that she has been baring herself all along
she is compliant right along side
being stubborn, right along side being defiant
you know me, you've written
all those poems about me
could I, after all these verse snap shots
have failed to have gotten
a glimpse of her actually, of who she is actually
of how she actually is
I've seen her bare a time or two already
passing through my senses
passing through my time on earth
Spanish words she'd put- she puts in my mouth
are the tastiest, most memorable Spanish words
I know
something so substantive about her fills my eyes,
fills my heart with hopes, with promises
she has an ugly scar upon her left breast
left by a bite, hurt I wish to kiss, I wish to ease
to erase with love, to reverse
with affection
iii.
gave her more than half back
cake I should have kept all of
look at cardboard circle, cut from a cardboard box
it had been covered with foil
it was what the cake she brought had been sitting on
it was covered over with thick soft chocolate
after we were done partitioning it
her arms, her hands were covered in chocolate
plastic, shopping bag she'd covered it over with
to deliver it, was a mess inside also
gooey love, gooey loveliness
washed her arms and hands with a soapy towel
stubborn as she is, cooperates sometimes
in some things
resists what no one but herself is thinking
will transpire
what I am moved by, this cardboard circle
cut from a box
I stripped it and kept it to remind me
of when she was here, of something we shared
of time shared, time so much more delicious
than cake in coat of chocolate, coming off
on her and me, on anything that touched it
or that it touched
is she gooey with me, am I gooey with her
when we connect and disconnect
she and I, without end, coming together
and coming apart
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 11:15 a.m. and 1:11 p.m.,
on Thursday, January 20, 2011
String In Mind
for D.B.A., R.B.C. & J.R.
i.
I just want to be in love
whatever the fuck is her response
just want to be in love
and ecstatically happy
even though happy has to play
see-saw with my being
as wretched as whatever
risking everything
like I have done
had been doing
what agony
but ecstasy as well, I've known
want this same fabric
with all its colors
extended more and more
poetry to spread
beneath her feet
that she'd not need
to walk on earth
but upon the verse
I add to the word
and to the world
ii.
friendship
all that was required
to do what you have done
to give what you have given
little or nothing
dishonest in the extreme
to suggest that friendship
could have inspired
all that I have contributed
or explains the degree
to which you have benefited
to come along after
and to suggest that it is
some friend whom you've inherited
from all the persons
to whom I had commitments
was committed to
devote myself
since I fell in love with you
in late February or early March
last year
you know full well all that was
pouring out of me, along with poems
along with tears
all that was being out pored
was some affliction far far worse
than friendship
you knew and know it was
it is the thing for which
no doctor has a cure
you know it is
what Christ died of
died from, died for
iii.
wish I had you
to express my love to
to express my love through
to truly express my love
come across things in store windows
I want you to wear
I wish it were entirely O.K.
to purchase
wish deepest possible appreciation
were guaranteed
girl I have, girl I love
concerned about me upstaging
her
just-out-of-college boyfriend
with my love and gifts
with my loving her and gifts
what though of poems
I write of her
a few every day
who on earth can compete
with this show of affection
with this expression of love for her
with my without end
serenading her with songs
freshly written, freshly sung
iv.
as delicately made as a musical instrument
as carefully strung
my wish- I wish, to strum from her
upon her, a song or two or a few songs
won't want a choir near, a choir there
to sing along
I'd want to keep her music
keep her musically to myself
heaven song, already a song
by heaven sung
gifts we are, given to us
we offer up, we offer back
she is as fine as women come
as women go
as fine as a woman gets
skinny, she is as lovely
as strands of rainfall
of falling rain
rain falls like beads fall
v.
Jenovia with a J
thought she'd said Senovia
even with a J, things
familiar to me, are set off
in what work though
is there mention
of, my beautiful Senovia
I shall have to recall
this sort of recollection
what I am good at
Jenovia though
what it brings to mind
is Genoa and Columbus
and his setting sail
his setting off
his first voyage
across the Atlantic
to the New World
his 3 ships, Pinta, Nina, Santa Maria
and I go back in mind, in my head
to early history lessons
in primary school
or junior school
how to the event of these ships
am I tied
what they set off, set into motion
tied to Jenovia and my being here
this side of Paradise, beautiful, full eyes
her smile, her ability to recall
name by which I am called
book in the Old Testament
shortest book in The Bible
what things, words, names
are able to trigger off
memories fire off like fireworks
way the mind works
the heart works
blood throughout the body
pumping,
connected to Jenovia, similarly
must have been a Jenovia or two
in classes I taught
linkages, why this word
makes me think of postage stamps
I know not
why my balls ache and my ears ring,
I know not
too far gone to fall in love
for a love affair
do I dare and do I dare
ventured deep into one
into a woman recently
don't know at present
where I am or what my status is
single or married or am I/
are we divorced
am I free to engage in
to venture into another affair
should I cross back
across the Atlantic
undo what Columbus did
or who was it
who got the slave trade going
do we go back
like Garvey suggested
or is it enough
our having become
prime ministers
of independent nations
context in which I right poems
in which Jenovia,
from behind the counter,
calls out to me when I enter
the cafe
happy to see her
happy to see me
how wide and how wonderful
are her eyes
vi.
must have strained a muscle in my mind
excited as I was, I overreached
might have popped a muscle in my mind
a string to do with thinking
talking, intellectualizing
at such a rate, at such a level
will need time to get over
feeling mentally ill
similarly in mind as in body
pull or strain or kink
and out of whack
until restored to health
well being back
well again after string
in mind or soul or body broke
and the notes, the music
sick as you were
until Mozart perfected it
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 3:45 a.m.
and 11:18 p.m. on Friday,
January 7, 2011
Vat 19
for D.B.A.
fall in love and you're fucked
indifferent you are better off
oh I do not like being like a victim
being her victim, at her mercy
at love's mercy
sick, weak, submissive
because in love, vulnerable,
exposed because of it
abused because of it
helpless and she isn't
picks you up when she wishes
drops you
when you are unwanted
kicks you off like smelly shoes
leaves you here or there
or in some corner
or she kicks you
kicked and never kissed
in this relationship
no more to expect
what more to expect
some might say, fool
you've fallen in love
with a woman 17
like a fool into a pool
of Vat 19, fallen and intoxicated
in public, drunk and falling down
does she rescue me
does she pick me up
safeguard dignity
instead she exposes me deliberately
demonstrates to me and publicly
that she is not in this with me
appreciative of a small fraction
of this love for her
of this love of mine
most of what's precious
priceless as an ounce
of an extraordinarily expensive perfume
and what does she do with it
does she care for it
crude and cruel and without taste
for finest things
over-the-hill taste,
over-the-hill woman
arguing over who eat her pork chop
where she's comfortable at
what she's comfortable with
give her silk to sit on, silk to shit on
wipe herself front and back
with poems I write of her
with what I write them on
after using the toilet
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
12:10 a.m. 05.01.11
Beneby Alley Girl
for D.B.A.
outfits fit her body
like fingers in gloves
steps she makes, she takes
and I go with her, carried away
a willing hostage
tie me up in limbs, in arms and legs
squeeze however tight
choke the day light out of me
I wouldn't mind, I wouldn't care
when she appears, I run to the bars
across my front door to look out
girl on earth who moves me most
or rather, one of the women in my blood
stirring the life in me at present
how wonderful God is
to provide muses for an artist
amusement for an artist
such a woman along with air
to keep me alive
pigeons upon the air, upon flapping wings
things upon which we rely to keep us up
girl I love, another note, nail in my heart
always between us, uncertainty of response
will it be sweet or devastating
her ability to show up though
to come up my stairs, unexpected
a wonderful deed in deed
a daring deed in deed
she keeps me, sends me to hell
wages for loving, for being in love
her wish, she said yesterday
is that we were friends
so much I've given her
I'd have to take back
to make that adjustment
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
4:55p.m. 19.01.11
Ball of Wool
for D.B.A.
terrible journey it has been
especially because of her
not wanting it or us to go anywhere
I with a foot upon the gas
her foot upon brakes
frustrating as the dickens
frustrating the dickens out of me
as intellectually elegant as she is
or seems, to find her in addition,
odd, and not progressive in all matters
what a surprise it was to me to find her
unapologetically unsophisticated
like someone’s old, spinster aunt
stuck in time
and in a back room of the house
clutching her knitting, fist balled
about a ball of wool or yarn
all she has to hold onto
girl 19, girl of my dreams or so I thought
until this element met,
this element discovered
this awkwardness, awkward mess
37 years her senior but it is she
who is much much older
stymied, backward, uptight, stiff
difficult to go with, to live with
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
3:56 p.m. 19.01.11
Bridge Across Apart
for D.B.A.
i.
barrier that she tries
to set up between us
when there is none
when barrier between us
is as thin as ink, as thin as a page
uses pretense, pretends to be
in a bad mood
barrier she erects, cruel and painful
the lie this is, this artificial partition
defense when none is needed
fortress against the enemy
she turns against me, against love
thighs together, thighs apart
where pussy is placed, not easy to access
the most secret, most inaccessible
corner or pocket of a woman's body
pocket of sweetness
to pork it, to poke it I'd need her
to invite me, to let me
bad mood, genuine or pretended
as much against her own desires
against what she craves as much
as I might
what she does to guard against
desires, her own,
inaccurate, inappropriate defense
opposition she sets up
when I am not the opponent
she takes me for
or thinks I am
needs to get to know me
need to get to know her
both of us need to get past fiction
embrace each other
love alone able to save us from drowning
in the hate and hurt of this world
what of history- of her history
has taught her- has caused her
to be as suspicious as she is,
unnecessarily
ii.
stormy and good weather
alternating between these
divine the switch, the shift
what would have inspired it
from enemy to friend
from miles apart in a studio
to hugging me, to being in my arms
from alien and alienation
to some degree- some sort
of intimacy
a few miles short of intercourse
but a far cry from Africa
is from the new world
what stands between us
I wish I knew
ah, heavens, look down on us
smile down on us
enough of tears,
of joy torn in two
in joy together, her and me
how happy we can be
glimmers, signs of it
in what happened yesterday
after school, after 4
the distance we crossed
the bridge across apart
silly sweetheart, could die for her
only want to reach her
all these poems to join us
to tie us together
poems to stitch us together
in our veins and arteries
in our shit and in our pee
want to drink her pee
spouting from her pussy
ideas like these
inspire her to act
as if shell shocked
but poetry is one thing
where we meet, another medium
another entity, another cup
of tea or pee or coco
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 9:25 p.m.
on Tuesday, January 18 and 12:47 a.m.
on Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Mixing Bowl
for Nancy
[Dr. Sakis dancer –
this poem inspired
by her dancing in “My Love”]
i.
I am madly in love
with these two women
I want to marry them both
what extreme joy
to watch them dance
what divine dancing
two divine women
ii.
could I have
the younger of these two women
I've discovered that her name is Nancy
my wish is to propose to her
I'd marry her readily
she can certainly get me to return
to West Africa from The Bahamas
though our claim is that it is better here
iii.
immeasurable joy
of seeing these two women
here on YouTube, Nancy especially,
has begun to be replaced
by an unhappy sickness
to see her actually, to interact
even if it involves
having to improve vastly
my ability with
and knowledge of French
I am hopelessly in love
with angelic Nancy
they are both precious
beyond words
iv.
Nancy in my soup again, Nancy for supper
greedy for her, weak for her, want her,
unable to bear what she gives me to enjoy
v.
whip it up
she whips it up to share with me
to give me some
when it comes to Nancy
I want all
vi.
Nancy most wonderful
what she does to get the juice out
orange juice, apple juice, cherry juice
with these she makes a drink for me
blend, mix, make juice when we meet
one juice, hers and mine, her and me
vii.
bowl of cherries
to eat with my fingers, to put in my mouth
bowl of cherries to eat until empty
until Nancy cries out, cries ouch
viii.
Nancy in another world
instead of here with me
in another time
instead of spending time with me
so glad she exists though
hope so hard to have her
to know her, to love her
uncover the soup pot
let's eat
ix.
Nancy so sweet
nothing, no one in the world
better to eat
what batter better, butter her for me
bet on her for me
x.
she rattles, she rattles me
when her engine revs up
when she shakes her thing
when her things shake
we shake milk shake
xi.
who wants food dr. Sakis was playing over
I'll take the dish that is as yet untouched
xii.
mixing bowl
what could I not mix up in Nancy
with her assisting me
xiii.
extremely frustrated
for want of her
unable to be satisfied
by YouTube, want her actually
to be able to walk around her
have her walk around me
want my arms about her
her limbs about me
in love wrapped
crazy about her and she unaware
unable to affect her as she affects me
unable to say to her, I'm in love
I want to marry Nancy
I wish you a Merry Christmas
xiv.
turn this back
a hundred thousand times
I am unable to get
any nearer Nancy
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2009
24.12.2009
Down Home Days
for D.B.A.
i.
amazing her ability to capitulate
oh the person she seems determined
to fashion out of the no body that she is
parts of her,
in what wonderful directions aimed
oh God, will I be around still
will we be attached still
when she comes into her own
is it my duty to help her to
is she helping me to be-
to become somebody too
is our mutual success or famedependent upon our attachment
what we are in each other
causing to come to pass
oh boy, by what all are we linked
in what variety of intricate
and intimate ways
in spite of all that is withheld from me
in spite of her, in this and that way,
being slick, slippery like fish
it is your wish to catch with your bare hands
how she behaves, knowing my wish
is to hold her bare in two bare hands
wiggle like fish all she wished
why am I not deserving of- am I not allowed
the same access she has to herself
if she can wash or wipe her pussy
why can't I
have I not yet earned the right
to finger fuck her
ii.
God, if I ate her pussy
would I taste pork
if I sucked hard
would I taste all the things she eats
all the things she's eaten
sweet sweet sweet or salt salt salt
or like something
a gourmet chef prepared
delicately flavored, highly favored
whatever she eats or drinks
shit goes out one way and piss another
head between her legs
drink her, eat her, wash her first
front and back
before I licked her, bit her
sucked her pussy lips
would I be rough, would I be gentle
how I wonder would she like it best
whatever I eat, I bless, I thank heaven for
iii.
Champagne glasses, so what
she still likes what she can drink
what she used to drink
is used to drinking
out of her silver, sweet milk tin
made into a cup
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written on Wednesday, January 12, 2011
between 2:30 a.m. and 8:07 a.m.
In Conversation
Attempts to Limit
What I can Bring Up
for D.B.A.
i.
want to learn to love you
want to be allowed to love you
like I've not ever loved
like I've not ever learned to love
in this life, in this world, on this earth
want to go as far in love
as I had ever gone and then go on
loving and in love, to new heights
new depths, new lengths, new breadth
new breath
what air is there in loving well
all out for love
fall in love, unable to fall out
falling lower and lower
or deeper and deeper
or do those- do we in love
fall up as stars fall down
are lovers shooting stars
ii.
this morning I feel frightened
by how near she seems
another presence in my life
as present as the veins in my body
as the blood in my veins
as the air in my lungs
as present in me as my heartbeat
as my beating heart
as present in me as the life in me
take away my breath, means what
is it about how at present
she affects my breathing
is it about when breathing's difficult
with nothing to do with a cold or a flu
is this because of breakthrough, finally
love truth, us two
what was a wall is a membrane now
semi-permeable
our substances able to pass through
two ways, into one something
one substance, into acceptance
it has been a long time coming
after a lot of laboring and longing
after a lot of resistance and accusations
after a lot of faith and commitment
after not having given up or given in
whatever arises, whoever came or comes along
written myself into the heart of the city
walled around like the city of Jerusalem
holy city, holy seat inside it for me finally
holy bed for us to lie in, holy bedspread
holy legs to spread
iii.
what do I think of what she has left
seeds and rind of orange and tangerine
what is she resisting, fearing
the possibility of my being able
to cause her to love me against her will
obeah or voodoo
but I is a good Anglican, know nothing
of such things or am I lying
look at what she left and wonder
about why what is shared between us
is so unnaturally shared
all this awkwardness, these unstated thoughts
in spite of her pretense
of intellectual and social sophistication
in spite of her seeming openness and
willingness to integrate
her saliva on these seeds, in rind, sucked, left
upon this plate
how sick would I get, I wonder
were I to suck and chew again
orange and tangerine rind,
again, suck the seeds she left
something about these remains
say so well, she has been here
that she was here and is not now
make me happy and sad combined
so sharp and in such an opposite pull
pain is produced, combined with joy
and I could cry
my God how troubled, how uncomfortable
she is, alone with me, not at all
at home with me
what, I wonder, does she fear
as brave as she is to come
and to come as far as she does
to go as far as we go, as far as we've gone
we've come a long way baby
since June, year-before-last
we have become connected,
we are seldom separated
over what am I at present crying
because of joy or out of self-pity
because I am unfortunate
or because I am lucky
she is all the family I have, you see
she is and means everything to me
in spite of how she treats me
no one else to treat me,
no one else allowed
whatever the quality and quantity
of her love for me, what I've got to live on
to live off, to live of
I live because she allows me to go on living
she is the air I breathe
am I masturbating myself to death
wishing her to love me
wanting her to love me
wishing she'd love me
all I have and how little of her I have
how little of her allowed
is it my old house that she does not like
is it her wish that I build a new one
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 2:30 p.m. on Sunday,
January 9 and 8:25 p.m. Tuesday,
January 11, 2011
Good-luck Charm
for A.W.
when my cup runneth over
like you've caused it to
when unafraid to love, to befriend
to be friends
when unafraid of what words can say
of what the heart can say, has to say
before it stops, while it beats
before hell freezes over
before its fires go out, before life ends
word or two to spend, a pen to empty
or before a pen is empty, a song
have you sixpence to spin for it
to spend for what sixpence
used to be able to buy
'66, ages before you were conceived
or thought up or thought of
want to get to the heart of you now
of who you are now
full of joy and trust, and truth and light
full of life, of the sweet of it
not bitter like some of us are
like some days are, like some deeds are
bees honey, bees wax and you
among life's sweet things
life's sweetest parts
part with something or other
keepsake for me, good-luck charm
oh the length of line, of verse I throw out
like lasso to catch a steer escaping
or a heart racing off
a ride, a rodeo
rider upon the back of one,
bucking and wild
would have no one on its back
for more than a minute
are you a lover of wild times, wild things
according to Joni Mitchell,
wild things run fast
domesticate horses to ride to town
to pull a carriage
long time before you'll be needing
such a vehicle
see you in your limousine
with your escort, all of those photographs
what event was that, whose graduation
his or yours
what a world or what worlds
your pictures open up
what a lot of windows
glad I can look into them
can see through them
hand I cover my face with
to think up more lines
smells of lime I have only recently
squeezed into my tea,
into my tea cup
smell as pretty
or almost as pretty as you are,
when you think of Christ
when you think of Christmas
my God, the geese
in this film I'm watching
on webbed feet, fleeing
white wings flapping
mischievous boys chasing them
in Ireland, in Angela's Ashes
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
1:40 p.m. 04.01.11
