Nigel

not because it is his birthday

why you'd have seen him on TV

but because, at 42, he has passed away

and I am wondering why-

what a green, strong tree he was or I thought he was

strong and sturdy, always bright spirited

acknowledge only now that I used to envy

his seeming always to be on top of the world

on top of the mountain I was still climbing,

struggling to get to the summit of

I recall my surprise, two years ago,

upon commenting on how forward looking-

forward thinking he was- upon commented

on how aware he was of anyone or anything I mentioned

he pointed out that for more than twenty years

once every week, he meet with a support group

of survivors of drug abuse 

he used to abuse drugs, he confessed

that support group he said was his salvation

how incredulous, I thought

what an honor it was though

to be entrusted with his secret,

with what seemed unimaginable

is his having passed away attached to that old habit

was there relapse or was separation

from his wife to blame, breakup of a fragile family

I am well aware that the loss of such stability

can leave you off balance - that is if

you fail otherwise to get a grip

what could this loss of life be linked to, I wonder

certainly thought he'd have been around for decades

did not expect him to predeceased me

as rickety as this ride that I am on has become

what sturdy stuff he seemed made of

what could have lead to his sucking in

and expiring his last breath

was it of natural causes that he died-

was it an accident- was he murdered- God forbid

hope that was not the case

that he was robbed of life senselessly- needlessly

hope he was not wrenched violently from this world

part of this nation's horrible statistics- the body count,

the numbers mounting until the corpses in a heap

can be heaped up no more- mothers mourning for sons

gone too soon

he was from the good side of the tracks

those given to contemplation, reflection-

those used to stepping aside for others to get by

he always seemed as fearless

as he seemed happy: above it all

by what bullet or blow was he brought low

will have to wait to hear from his dear mother

from his sister or one of his three brothers

the four of them as close to me as siblings of my own

the wall between the yards of our two families

was unable at all to divide us, unable to keep us apart

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012

1:41 p.m.  19.09.12

Rusty Nuts & Rusty Bolts
for D'Anthra B. Adderley

1200 poems - as much as
or more than 1200 pounds
to get to suck her pussy
and not allowed to yet

soon it will be far from fresh
not at all what
I was paying on, paying for

not what I have paid for
several dozen times

have I been paying on-
have I paid
for what is stale already

I'd have done better by far
to have put what I've invested
in her, in Scotia, Royal or Finco

in the bank
I could have earned interest

I've invested in
what has been
thrown around,
beaten about

invested in what is certainly
not as fresh, not as virgin
as when my payments
commenced


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
16.09.12 4:12 a.m.

Fairy Tale Girl
for Tatiana Legáspy Alegría

light and water in her eyes
earrings I provided, mailed to her
got to her -
prayed that they would
and they did
what a joy it was
when they arrived

recall her e-mail telling me
of the call from the library to say
there was a package there for her

recall her telling me
that her mom or dad
had agreed to pick them up

photograph on facebook
of her wearing them was confirmation
they had arrived for sure

what a smile she wore
no woman on the globe
able to smile more sweetly

with earrings, with stones, one pink,
one green, she wears pink top-
fitting as well- as tight as her skin fits

and no one prettier
than she is in this picture,
smiling, with light,
with water in her eyes

my God,
for how long we have lived
without a word exchanged
without a word passing
between us

thought I did not love her anymore
thought our relationship was over
and done with

stumbled upon this picture of her
accompanying a poem on my blog

going on fifteen minutes
and I've been unable to look away

taken in again
by a look steadfast
by loveliness that cannot easily
be surpassed

available to be loyal to her
able to love her again right now
like I used to once
with all my heart, with all my soul

is it convenient, I wonder
for her to receive me, to have me back

my fairy tale girl
about a hundred poems written of her
since our encounter, in Costa Rica
when she was 16
I add this one to

want to return to looking
at photos of her and being aroused

want to return to being attached
in one way or another
and being inspired to write
more poems

Oh, Lord,
for communication to commence
between us
once again

our deep friendship
our countries tied together
by our tie

how deeply in love I used to be
can that emotional depth
be recovered

like precious things lost
in wreck that sank
to the sea bottom
worth going to the bottom after
worth going to the bottom for

I will be sifting
through pictures of her again
to pass the time-
for what I could find

to recover what I feared was lost
what I now want back

we have a history to extend
to add to

thread between us
so many times multiplied
multicolored, too strong to break
or to take for granted

since I was born, no woman
encountered more precious

born again in her
born again in me

together we make rainbows
great big arcs above Limón,
city in Costa Rica where we met
where she lives, where she was born

I will have to go back there
when I am unable to bear
absence, the gap between
when I saw her first
when I saw her last

widening and widening
like planets, drifting
further and further away
further and further apart


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
7:34 a.m. 10.09.12

When a Whale Comes Up for Air
for D'Anthra B. Adderley
was having intercourse with you all along
aware of that now, now that our status has been altered
now that we have been temporarily reclassified

but have we, actually, is that no more than superficial
our attachment, where it matters, sustains, deep down

can all that we've accumulated be reversed
all the tiny little connections, experiences

my yard is being addressed as I am writing, by the way
things being uprooted, overgrowth being chopped down

I can smell the sweet strong smell of soil being overturned
what was growing in it, pulled from it

made an arrangement- came to an agreement after all
or at long last - things happen when the time comes

how long you and I have held out, separated
unable to endure that anymore

with my phone off at present, you'd have to respond by e-mail
or connect by Skype, though Skype I do not like

how many tangents away from where I started-
from what I was directing at you initially

3:14 p.m., noises of children
from Uriah McPhee Primary School going by

two worlds through us are attached
the plug was pulled out, need it plugged in again

I have, for going on two weeks,
been living in the dark as it were
living with so much less to live for

admit that you've been suffering too
as much as me or more

you fat slob, you sweet pussy bitch
woman of mine from time to time

your two timing crime
for which you should be incarcerated

sentenced to life, to hard labor
on the chain gang or to hard labor
on my hard cock

until you learned what- learned who
you were living for

longing for crabby, wet, while in class,
doing your school work

crabby wet in the middle of a lecture
distracted by thoughts of
our perpetual intercourse

Oh, God, am I going to be able to deliver
when the time comes, her big crabby,
small and tight about my cock up in her

will she holler because it hurts
or because it was too sweet to bear

inserted in her/insert it in her
will she suck it first, insure
that it was hard enough and long enough
to open heaven-
to make it rain

Honey, my right foot, injured in Mexico,
months ago, some tiny bones dislocated
what I thought was healed entirely is not

are you whole, my darling, devoid entirely
of aches and pains- no ailments at all
to complain about

so much love and so much care
for every bone and every cell in your body
and for every strand of hair
springing anywhere
on you or from you

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
3:33 p.m. 14.09.12

Salt Sea Salty Tears
for D'Anthra B. Addreley

I have raged against her
and she has withstood it
like a ball in a game, played against a wall
like waves against a ship out in the ocean

symbolic of my thrusting against her
of my thrusting and thrusting within her

she indicates that she can well withstand
such delicious rivalry

how well we have, most of the time,
enjoyed our combats

withdrawn, separated though,
difficult as the devil to withstand

how the suffering of separation
penetrates, devastates

house that is my life
or in which I am living
without loving and being loved
to keep it standing, I fear-
I feel might just fall down- collapse
without her, having so much less purpose

how charged life used to be
in love and undergoing exchange

how changed, without her to bounce off of
to splash up against,
to splatter with waves, with salt sea

how bland life is without interaction
without her to shape it
without me shaking hers
without her shaking mine, shaking me

I am dying down like flames
lying down without her beside me

better by far to be naked on top of her
or to have her naked on top of me

sweaty,
wet with tears, with semen
with juices from her body

prefer when we are-
preferred when we were
messy together

used to be cleaner then, so much more pure
than my being- than my living poor and alone

without her voice, her laughter her burping
in my ear


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
2:30 a.m. 14.09.12

Trust In Love
for D’Anthra B. Adderley
Is this going to work,
this experiment you've requested,
this separation?

Is it working for you?
It is not working for me.

You suggest that love were something
that was in our hands
and we could put it on a shelf
and when we wished, take it down again.

What though if the truth is
that we are in the hands- in the grip of love
and we had to do its bidding-
and laugh or weep naturally in response?

You want to be in charge-
you want to be in control
and end upon the rocks?

You want to shipwreck
not knowing were the shallows-
where the shoals are
when love does and therefore
should be trusted
wholeheartedly.


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
1:04 p.m. 08.09.12

Road Ahead
for D'Anthra B. Adderley

she had to make an art of
making use of me and of, afterwards,
bringing me down so that
though I mattered much
I would not matter much

tortured without end with being elevated
to be drawn on and drawn from
sucked out and then sucked down

though I'd been struggling all along
to save my soul, do I struggle still
or do I let go- let soul save itself
or fail to save itself

she has admitted finally, her inadequacy
her inability to measure up- her inability to do more
or to know more than how to use someone
tricking them into believing that they mattered
until she had gotten from them what she required

just a trickster/bullshitter,
thinking she was getting away with this,
thinking who she used was unaware

but I am conscious and she is partially
and she imagined that she could,
with slight if hands, trick me

better that she cease doing damage to her soul
lying to life and to me and to herself

I'd accept her back if she chooses or can choose
to be honest

how can anyone, exposed to me as she has been-
to whom I am as available as I have been
not fall in love- not find that we are inseparable

it is the truth though to whom I am wed
she has some other god or is seeking God still
and I must let her- let her do battle
with her own daemons- let her find her own level
her own devil to belly dance with
or to do whatever with

you asked why Maya Lima and I came apart-
for no reason other than why we are

I never do,
I never could compromise the truth
not even to sustain the availability of pussy

throwing yours away without ever having had it
or seen it- smelled it or touched it-
licked it or kissed it

but attached to dishonesty
and to your lack of discipline
to your being as disorganized as you are, it is-
it could be nothing to be cherished

pussy, to be attractive, has to be attached
to a life and situation that edify- that elevate
rather than undermine-
rather than failing to honor and to appreciate

you are leaving me, Dee, because,
without compromise, I tell you the truth
knowing I am risking everything

I risked everything for love of you
and look at what has been my reward-
look at how I have been rewarded

thought you'd have given me everything,
sent me flowers, for risking so much-
for caring for you more than I cared for myself
or for my own possibilities of benefit

seeking what is best for you
seeking your benefit instead of my own
and for punishing myself for love of you
instead of deeply appreciated
I am severely punished twice

yes, for such a depth of giving and loving,
for living just for you, it certainly is or was
necessary to be entirely available
to respond to such dedication
to such devotion

poetry shall expect the same of you-
that you be entirely dedicated

you will have to be loyal
to expect it to tell you its secrets

I've told you all or most of mine


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
3:33 a.m. 07.09.12

Picture This
Picture That
for Shannetha L. Bostwick

a picture, it is said,
is worth a thousand words

what poetry can capture in a line
might require 500 words
otherwise to convey

a picture is not worth
a thousand words of poetry, certainly

consider what is conveyed
by William Carlos Williams
in these 16 words:

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens

even a book of poetry
without pictures
is for her as if empty

though she might have been joking
feigning being illiterate
or anti-intellectual

when she is indeed
intellectually sophisticated
quite intelligent

I must not fail to be able
to read irony
when encountered in life
in literature
or upon the stage

reading comes
in so many forms

an animal sniffs the earth
or the air and reads
a thousand things
in what it smells

so must a poet, an artist
so must we all


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
6:24 p.m. 30.08.12

Love Drunk
for D'Anthra. B. Adderley

if I were to die of loving you too much
were I to spend it all on love- spend it all for love
spend my life all at once or too fast
too much at once

like a bottle of alcohol, rum or gin,
brandy or whiskey, put to the head
and gug-a-lug until it was all in your belly
burning and the bottle was filled
with the smell of what was in it and full of air

empty me to do away with, to dispose of
after having loved you to death
to death meaning that I died
and you were left to cry; with eyes to dry
would that be poetry

this country is not the same
the world is changed
by your love for me
by my love for you

living to love you, nothing as important
nothing else important

the persons closest to me
not at all as close to me as you are

I take in air and you in one same effort
air so close, so vital to us, we breathing
no matter where we are or who we're with

with you it is like this, you inside me like air

on the phone with you just now
wondering if I would drink your pee
and if I did, would I live- would I be well
might I catch what I didn't want- what I might regret

but already I've declared
don't mind dying for love of you

for anything- for anyone else, I might complain
reject, resist, but to spend my life like sixpence
on something and get no change, I'd do it readily

only my wish is to be around
my wish is to be loving you over the course
of a hundred or more years

that might be why
all the poems of us- of our affair
so that it could outlast the love
of Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde,
Alexander and Cleopatra,
Othello and Desdemona

Clytemnestra- to whom was she attached
and in what play- by what Greek playwright


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
12:41 p.m. 01.09.12