earth spinners

2012-01-21T03:23:00.002-05:00

One Day
Another Night
for M.L.R.

we would pass now
like strangers, she and I

just members of the crowds
boarding or disembarking the trains

entering or leaving one metro station
or another or the other

we have faded again into the crowds

into being strangers again
after our episodes in bed

we were strangers then too

I, like a paying customer
she like a professional

providing a service, expertly
expertly providing a service

I thought it was by love inspired
but I do not know now
what it was inspired by

bye bye to crying eyes
bye bye, black bird

black cock, erect neck
cococarooco

dividing the day and the night
dividing day from night

we were never not strangers
never ever friends

though I thought we were gift,
bestowed without delay
or without much delay,
by heaven

heaven,
it seems, has taken its gift back
our contact

not connected in bed,
in intimacy, not connected
holding hands as we used to,

going about Mexico City,
kissing the way lovers kiss

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
7:29 p.m. 20.01.12

2012-01-21T02:33:00.002-05:00

Another Round of Hearts
for T.L.A.

would you mind
if I fell in love with you again

I was once
that I can confess

was until I was pushed away
until our conflict

until it was clear
that it was not appreciated

my heart, beating,
offered to you whole
like a water melon

heart,
meal you had no appetite for
insulted it, insulted me

my precious offer, unappreciated

no, it was not- it was never friendship
I was after, I was cultivating

damn the difference of our ages
it was love I was after –
love I was into

want to be into you like that again
after a time of separation
after our time apart

after an affair I was into
that is very likely over now

I am ready to return home
to Limón, to Costa Rica

to the prettiest girl upon the planet
prettiest girl
on God's green earth

an affair she was having- was into
to guard it, you had to- you chose to
shove me away, shoo me away
like flies - a nuisance, annoying you

what will it be this time around
welcome or farewell or go away
don't bother me

want another round of hearts
thrown back and forth to catch

laughing, chasing about, running
having fun

but we must not let them drop
must not let your heart or my heart
hit the ground, the pavement

must not let them- get them-
let them get bruised up
covered with dirt and sand

must hold them safe in two hands

what ups and downs, already,
we've survived -
our affair has a history

devoted to you once
want to be devoted, similarly,
once again

what will I, this time,
be subjected to
what will I subject you to

close enough again,
to watch each other grow
what will we undergo

need to redefine what motivates
what we share

do not want friendship
want to be captain-
want to run the ship
sail the ship

cabin upon it for you and me
to frolic

alcoholics in the ballroom
well dressed, drunk
and dancing waltz

walls for our laughter
to ring off

verbs to reverberate
to ring out

parts of speech
to take apart

you to disassemble
and to reassemble

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
7:16 a.m. 20.01.12

2012-01-21T02:00:00.001-05:00

Crushed Ice
for M.L.R.

i.
could we have
walking together back
joined like that

our steps, our hands
your right, my left

ink left to muddy pages with
paper to talk to, to talk with

we used to converse as best we could
as best we could was good enough
was all the world

we used to be boy and girl
were planning to be man and wife
maybe all too fast

two hearts, together beating,
have come apart

how it was that we were joined as we were
while we were, was like a fairy tale

how it commenced and that it did
and that it sustained, a mystery

a gift from somewhere lofty
from up above, from on high

why has heaven revoked us
taken back what was granted

what did I- did you or did we do
to forfeit such a treat

what harsh word or words
to cause us to come crashing back
into this harsh world

what patience lacking
to cause us to be pulled apart

when we were like ice skating partners
connected, helping, lifting
as we twirled, turned

our partnership is what I miss

that I could allow you
or that you could allow me
to come crashing down to ice

is so without mercy, without care
is so very cold
after having been so enormously warm

hot hot hot worried me a little
I was concerned about burning out
all too readily, all too soon

it was walking hand-in-hand
kisses in public that was best
that thrilled me most

not under-done or over-done
under-cooked or over-cooked

that tenderness was best
it is the tenderness I miss
and want back, that bliss
that connection, that connected

that though is but one side of you
one side of me as well, I imagine

there is as well
the woman of self-defense
woman trained in martial arts

the adversarial side
needing an opponent
made me one

needed me it seemed
in opposition
instead of on her side

I thought God was on our side
thought he had ordained
that we be joined

ii.
how could it have been just a fling
a thing to use
and then to fling away
at the end of the day

iii.
we might have allowed
too many people into-
to enter what was ours
what was too new for all the world

their trampling feet,
their peeping eyes, their curiosity

our affair, too soon mixed
with the affairs of this world

delicate as it was
like a litter of kittens
lacking fur, eyes not open

needing to be licked,
needing to be shrouded,
veiled from the eyes of all the world

we should not have announced
to all the world, what our plans were

what it was that we had discovered:
gold and frankincense and myrrh

we should not have told Herod
where the young child was

wrapped in swaddling cloth
lying in a manger

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
Written between 1:15 p.m.
on Thursday, January 19
and 2:55 a.m. on Friday,
January 20, 2012

2012-01-20T03:30:00.003-05:00

Little Boy Blew
for Sergio, Mariana & M.L.R.

all the air, all of a sudden
released again into the atmosphere

little boy's blue balloon
he was hitting up and keeping up
determined not to let touch the ground

does end upon the ground
is blown away, ahead of him
with him following swiftly

into the neighbor's yard
neighbors I am staying with
with whom I've stayed overnight

little boy's blue balloon
blows against a small flowering plant
and goes, pop

what was in it
suddenly mixes with what was without

what was a toy, a play-thing,
is a play-thing no more

a piece of rubber,
boy with his sister, in the road
babbling away in Spanish,
has no more use for

no use for what he cannot again
blow up, fill with air

in the early morning, on the beach
a day ago, I was asked,
at the point of her wanting penetration

wanting me to enter her, had I rubbers
"latex" is the word she used
I hadn't

we'd gone as far as we could go
as far as we dared go and turned back

climbed down from the great height
that we had gotten to

we'd have had no-longer-useful rubber
we'd have afterwards, most likely,
disposed of rubber in the sand
on the beach, full of little tadpoles

a generation of my offspring
Trojan warriors, dying, perishing
their tails whipping, lashing

we never got to that

what was left
of the little boy's blue balloon
he did not pick up

with his sister,
with her amber-colored balloon
fortunately still in tact,

they ran away, shrouded in
the noise they made

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
7:44 a.m. 04.11.11

2012-01-19T05:13:00.001-05:00

Blue Is My World
for M.L.R.

I do not feel lovely
how can she love me

what does she sense
what does she see

I'd put off love making
I'd push her away
until I can assemble
all the pieces in place
some semblance of enticing

she knows not
with what devils I wrestle
I must pin down

heads of dragons I must cut off
to get into bed with her

to be intimate- to copulate
like we at times have
like we sometimes do

not automatic to feel attractive
with my body, its systems,
acting up, its systems backfiring

digestion, circulation,
defecation, excretion
all of these questionable

I must yet try to master them
put what misbehaves to sleep
or try to - she hasn't a clue
what I must do- must undergo

everything I eat
almost immediately after
or not long after, I have to do do
these in the way of romance

I had been jogging on the spot
morning and evening
to get on top- to stay on top of things

now my right foot has given out
delicate bones in this foot,
I seem to have fractured,
one or several

it hurts to walk, I hop instead

some film with some injured soldier
comes to mind

"Ryan's Daughter" it is for certain
British officer on the hill top
hopping, moving swiftly

Ryan's daughter, in white night gown
having left her husband's bed
hurries to this officer
she has fallen in love with

it is infirmity, this image
of him hopping, part of the romance
part of his heroism

he had been wounded, injured
while fighting- while at war
and because of it was decorated

my injury occurring
running on the spot, indoors
trying to stay well, attempting
to boost my immune system
and this calamity

my love and I, at present
not getting along-

affair on the rocks
over a bottle of Noche Buena beer
she wanted a second bottle of

I put my foot down
I delivered a sermon
on the need to deny ourselves

give the extra you'd spend
on luxuries like beer to the poor

with their hands out
whom you usually pass by
or shoo away

living in her house
sleeping in her bed
and I have suddenly become
persona non grata

will this state that we're in lift
or will I have
to vacate these premises
for dignity's sake

guest in a house
here in Mexico City
and I feel humiliated, unappreciated

what input am I allowed

modern day woman
with little use
for the leadership of a man

want to have their own way
go their own way

your money to spin, to spend
your cock to gyrate on
but they have their own ideas

no more than contempt
for the ideas of men

last night I was made to feel
like that beautiful
emasculated man
in "Blue," with Juliette Binoche

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
9:38 p.m. 19.12.11

2012-01-19T03:46:00.000-05:00

Along Came Song
for M.L.R.

steps that were designed
by the divine or by the devil

tracks that were laid
by hands from hell
or hands from heaven

which am I making- which am I on

what existed between us initially
who orchestrated it
who connected us

was it of God or of the devil
what I thought was bliss

asked this one and that one
to pray for us, to pray for it

what was I asking God to bless
to add whip cream of heaven to

asking angels in heaven
to lift up- to lift us- to approve

light of heaven,
invited to shine in on it
and could it withstand this added
this exposure, such revelation

evil doings
or what was not in keeping
with what heaven, the Gospels
and Christ intended

woman seeking after pleasure
assume she could
make her own rules
could have her private pursuits

anything she liked-
anyway she liked it
whenever she wanted

what The Book says, no matter
what the guide says
of no importance, of no consequence

but The Book does matter
as much today as it ever did

book of life is the book for life
forever

do not understand
her not appreciating all I contributed

seems she still does not appreciate
what my time costs

I could have been elsewhere
in service otherwise and to others

it seems she never understood
whose I was, to whom I belonged
or to whom I belong

she seemed to think me flimsy
morally, materially, otherwise

some playmate, some play thing
some paperweight

does she know how powerful
is the family- are the friends I have

does she know
that I must be their shining star

this hour and every hour
unable to resort
to just any lowness
to what is lowdown
to just any mess

after all the discipline,
the suffering, the sacrifices,
she expects me
to lie down in sin and get up
and go on and not care

pleasures that are not blessed
eat food over which grace
has not been said

I have been abandoned, repudiated
for having principles
for taking the high road
rather than the low road

wanted- and I want still
what was pure between us
want her to know that
you cannot have whatever
do whatever without having
to suffer- without having
to face the consequences

what you do in secret
shall certainly end up in the open
end up in the light

what is covered by night,
sure to end exposed by-
exposed in daylight

just another man she met and went with
all that I am supposed to be
what she attempts to reduce me to

after all the commitments we had made
after the depths to which we went

after the depths of what I thought
we had invested

what I wanted us to mean
thought we mutually meant

was I meaning one thing
meaning one way and she
was meaning her own thing
some other way, entirely

attached,
would we have forever been
pulling in opposite directions

she pulling from my pocket
pulling the guts inside me out

what is or was within me
inside me coiled,
extending more and more

like a fish on a line
big fish on her line to bring in
or to relinquish

attached and in pain
she is attached to me too
it costs me, it must cost her also

for both of us, the pleasure
and the pain - for both of us
the consequences
for the incorrect sequence
of what was shared

take a toy apart- a car apart
anything apart- there is
this to put back and then that

however painstaking
is the order we must observe

must be followed if we want
what we are assembling
or reassembling to work, to run

we could not- we cannot
put ourselves together
any-kind-a-how, any-kind-a-way
and expect to function

to be right together
right for each other
or to make right, to make better
a little bit of wrong in this world

I do not- did not want
to be added to- or to be more of
what is messed up

it is precisely why I write
to put- to make something
run as it should

like a river rather that like blood
off a sidewalk, onto the side
of the road when someone
is stabbed or shot

am I to go- are we to go
the way of the world

should we not be
on our way to heaven
on the wings of doves

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
11:25 a.m. 18.01.12

2012-01-17T03:03:00.001-05:00

Game of Chance
for M.L.R.

she wants to be able
to push men about

as if they were light
or light to lift

as if they were all
just puppies on strings
to pull, to yank

to caress sometimes
kick sometimes
kiss sometimes

she wants a man
to have, to hold
when it´s cold

to enfold, to enfold her
when she feels like it
to refuse
when she does not
feel like it

my God,
I certainly could not abide
being reduced
to a house guest
to a house mouse
to a house fly

when the week before
when the day before
we had been lovers

romance evaporated
just like that, in a flash

too fast occurring to be seen

what was responsible
for the status change

how did I come to be
stripped of all my badges
of the rank I had

without being decorated
like I had been
she expected me
to hang around

who was a general
reduced to a private

what a reshuffling
of a deck of cards

© Obediah Michael Smith
4:00 p.m. 16.01.12

2012-01-17T03:00:00.002-05:00

When We Come
to A Fork In the Road
M.L.R.

don´t ask me to determine
where the pieces fall
how the pieces fit
of what used to be
our relationship

let them fall where they may
fit how they may or not fit
at the end of the year
at the end of the day

when the way ends or divides
so be it

if we must proceed
along separate ways
like together arriving
at a fork in the road
and dividing like the road divides

not at all long ago
her thighs used to open
used to divide
like a fork in the road

us two to come and to go together

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
6:25 a.m. 16.01.12

2012-01-16T04:39:00.001-05:00

Go or Stay or Go Astray
for M.L.R.

what will you have me do or be
oh Lord, oh Saviour

will you have me go or stay
what way will you have me turn
towards or away from this woman

with her opposite sides
with her inside out
with her back to front to face

from day to day, from time to time

my own flip-flopping
like a fish on a deck

like a fisherman with a club
for a fish on deck, pitching, wishing
it were back in the sea,
swimming away

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
4:11 a.m. 19.12.11

2012-01-16T02:57:00.001-05:00

Honey & Vinegar
for M.L.R.

she will forever be
shifting back and forth
lika a lunatic

between north and south
between east and west

her needle banging back and forth
between heaven and hell
between salvation and damnation

what damn nation
is this we're living in

we've fallen into

out of bliss

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
4:02 a.m. 19.12.11

2012-01-16T02:40:00.000-05:00

Ecclesiastes
for M.L.R.

don't hold back
what is unhappy
what is happening or has happened
that you do not like

with time, let it run, let it fly, let it slide
allow it to glide away with the day

no need linger in dirty bath water
after you have used it
after you have washed off

let it out, let it circle and swirl
let it go down the drain

always a fresh day with fresh hours in it
always a fresh hour with fresh minutes in it
always a fresh minutes with fresh seconds in it

let go of what's spent- of what's lost

more and more life and opportunities
arriving without end

more life, more days, more nights to spend

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
10:26 p.m. 17.12.11

2012-01-16T02:01:00.001-05:00

In or End the Life Within
for M.L.R.

he does not drink
he does not smoke

what else then does he-
is he going to fill his life with

they wonder, want to know

we all have a grave
to fill with our bodies, sooner or later

how desperate some of us seem to done-
to spend the life within us

desperate to end the life we're in

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
3:15 a.m. 17.12.11

2012-01-16T01:32:00.004-05:00

Circle Ends
for M.L.R.

all of them in a circle
sucking on-
sucking down cigarettes

Maya, my wife-to-be, among them

trying to done time
as my mother used to say

but they will be done
before time is done
they will end before time ends

their time will end
before time's time comes

they are making merry
or they think they are

people's methods of making merry
usually make me sad

angels weep
not glad

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
3:10 a.m. 17.12.11

2012-01-16T01:14:00.000-05:00

Furry Lewis Blues
for M.L.R.

shy little kitten
she keeps between her legs

asleep until I arouse her
until I wake her up

to turn over and about
to go out to play
until exhausted,
panting,
wet

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
12:03 p.m. 18.12.11

2012-01-15T17:51:00.003-05:00

Roll of Thunder Roll of Dice

want to shit on-
want to sit on my own toilet seat

seat at home, occupied by only me

my toilet seat, my library seat
there where I sit to read
books I check out

hours sometimes upon
what is by some, for some reason,
called a throne

am I sad here-
have I become sad here
after a fling of happiness- a toss

after one, I won
after another, I loss

is my life to be based upon
the toss of dice

like the economy of The Bahamas
must I add my love life,
my love nights, my lovely days

I must accept me
no matter who does not

myself to live with
not for a month,
not for a few weeks

I have myself to live with
every second on my life
as long as life shall last

this the gift
that heaven has bestowed

must love me before anyone can
long after whoever cannot
stops

I must buy lotion for my hands
how rough they look
how awful they feel

do I miss the elegance
the opulence
of Sol Kerzner’s Atlantis
on Paradis Island
in The Bahamas

there I'd use the toilet
and sit at times
for several hours

sit until
a book I'm reading is read

rest rooms as large
as a comfortable apartment

larger than what is
for some persons
an entire house

am I dreaming of home
longing for home
for Kemp Road

where I live in the house
in which I was conceived
in which I was born

uncomfortable street
that is at times though
like heaven on earth

when it rains
I am as if in a great big cage
enclosed in the bars
falling rain makes

about the house falling
off the four sides
of my house roof
off my house top

any window
out through which I look

I see the rain
wetting the leaves of trees

across the street
beneath the canopy
of the convenience store

school children
in their uniforms

young people
and not-so-young people
gather, wait until the rain,
falling, holds up

when it’s bright
in the sunlight,
the rain is a lot
of silver strands

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
10:42 a.m. 10.01.12

2012-01-14T04:48:00.000-05:00

Whom We Rub We Bruise
for M.L.R.

thin as skin
skin as thin as a frog´s skin

thin-skinned
barrier too insubstantive
to make much difference

offended by everything
by nothing at all

why as defensive-
as easily offended
as she is

is she also aware
of how often
of how constantly
she offends

without knowing
or without caring
or without caring too much
or without caring enough
that she offends

but out of proportion blows
what wrong is done her

even if done inadvertently

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
12:20 a.m. 14.01.12

2012-01-14T04:29:00.002-05:00

A Poem Written
In A Park I Found
for M.L.R.

in an instant
it was as if
I was not pretty anymore

no longer lovable
no longer lovely

rug drawn out from underfoot
from under me

should I have been, in the first place
dependent upon her
to give me a positive view of myself

emphasizing though a part of me
that I do not wish emphasized

how well I can or cannot fuck
and how frequently

not a test I wish to pass
or not to pass

wanted an affair based upon
my ability to love her
her ability to love me

ability to stick it out
through thick and through thin

whatever came or comes
hell or high water

she wanted sex to rely on
like a drug

wanted this added
to the other substances
she abuses
cigarettes and alcohol

did not like my calling her back
to the subtler pleasures

the small joys
from which she feels
she has long ago graduated

things I suppose
she considers play-play
child´s play, childish
some children´s affairs

this is what happens
when innocence is lost
or has been tossed aside
or tossed away

stuff I clutch
like I clutch my pen

in a grip in my hand
innocence as important to me

bun containing cheese
in the hollow inside
I bought one of

I should have purchased
2 or 3 or 4 or more

want to be drunk
on what is good for me
on who is good for me

thought I was good for her
thought she was good for me

I still do- I do still

here in Mexico City still
attached to it

in love with her, in love with it
with this city, her city

this relationship
I´ve come to through her

our affair, attached to this affair
affair with place, with time
with space

am I displaced, displeased
am I out on the edge
am I out on a limb

am I in good hands
am I in God´s hands

Friday the thirteenth
what peace I feel

fifteen dollars for the moment
all that is left on my account
in Nassau, on New Providence
to draw off- to draw on- to draw from

Christ though, his Father
heaven and the Holy Spirit
have long ago assured us
that Grace is sufficient

promised to provide each day
what each day requires

only I must- we must
not be greedy

must be discerning
must recognize love
in all its guises

however great-big-grand,
however infinitesimal

without end prepared
to embrace and to swallow it

to be embraced
and to be swallowed by it

I need a lotion or cream
muey efficacious
for my rough hands

I must not fail to be lovely
when love comes along
when love comes around

always hovering near
as near as the light
as near as the dark
as near as the life within

I am without end
hemorrhaging poems

happy to have pages-
to have paper
to soak them up with

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
3:58 p.m. 13.01.12

2012-01-11T03:20:00.001-05:00

You Better Move On
for Cedric Scott

moving on for me
is not just-like-that
is not as easy as pie

not when the sky
has fallen in upon a love affair

want to linger, assess it,
go back over every footstep

over what, just a day or so ago
was so full of promises

we had made such profound plans

all the plans, like plants, like palms
so soon uprooted

sky fallen in, roof fallen in
upon the dining room table

unashamed that I am crying and crying
that I am weeping still

that I am making poems of ink and tears
of a mixture of these

after you have invested
what you have invested
in the affair you're in
in love and marriage

would you be able, easily,
to up and move on, were you,
God forbid, today or tomorrow,
to split up

dare you say that my love is/was
less significant

because it has not
existed as long

because it has existed weeks
and yours has existed years

have I no right to want her back
to want to continue what we started
where we left off

have I no right to want to go back
to her neighborhood

I know though that our breakup
that our breaking up

is tied to the other men in her life
who have let her down

whom she, most likely,
has let down also
like she's let me down

thinking, in all these cases
it is- it was
the fault of her father,
two brothers, two X-husbands
now me

all these men to hate
who have hurt her
whom she has hurt

worse than she is aware

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
9:34 p.m. 10.01.12

2012-01-11T02:50:00.001-05:00

In Mexico out in
or out of the Cold

somebody, not only you,
can feel like they have-
that they have bumped into destiny

into their destination
upon meeting you

awaiting someone- awaited event ,
occurring finally

not necessary that she belongs
to a circle of poets

circle of poets can turn out to be
a circle of witches,
circle of bad news

good news, someone new
to cross your path-
could cross your path
and can, with you,

go on to open- to make- to create
a path together that never was
across snow, maybe

you two in warm coats,
warm clothes, warm underclothes

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
10:07 p.m. 10.01.12

2012-01-10T21:20:00.001-05:00

In careful Hands
of M.L.R.

able to pull the rug out
from under your feet
and without mercy, she does

not caring if you fall- if you fell
on your hip or on your teeth

this, when I used to think
she was
sweet sweet sweet

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
10:02 a.m. 10.01.12

2012-01-09T19:34:00.001-05:00

Ten Weeks Long

in a very different
Mexico City now
from the one she and I shared

am I becoming angrier
as angry as she is

rhythm of life in this city
its demands, requiring
that you adapt, toughen up

am I being changed
having the city to face myself
head on, come what may

without her to go about with
hand-in-hand

without her to lead and to guide me
without her, like Moses,
to open the way, the ways,
the passages, the passage ways

without her to provide,
in addition, that narrow passage,
the candy of it, the candy that it is

or the wrapper that it is
to wrap, so very well,
the length of my hard, dark
chocolate

no longer entertaining
eyes, asses, shocked
at what they consider to be
difference that is extreme

let them look in delight or disgust
or whatever or however

I am abandoning
meeting their gaze, these gazes

abandoning trying to read
what this difference
of mine means

they are as different from me
as I am from them

let them process me
however they please

it is Monday
this is a new week
I must be strong

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
4:08 p.m. 09.01.12

2012-01-07T14:19:00.001-05:00

I Vow to Thee
for M.L.R.

you mean even if she lets me down

is this what you meant
when you insisted, implored me to-

how did you put it-
stand beside her
stand up for her

did you mean even if she let me down
or lets me down or lets me drop
as she has

longing, waiting, wondering
will she pick me up again

you mean that I should stand by her
stick by her, stand up for her
no matter what

stand by her, stand for her
even if she is against me
even if she is not for me
I must be for her

brave for her, there for her,
here for her

even if I´ve been thrown out
shut out, shoved out

I must, since I´ve taken her in
keep her in
even without reciprocity

one-sided affair, going about
upon one leg
stand up for her upon one leg

I wept just now to think of this
of words you said-
of this stipulation
on behalf of who was then
my wife to be
who was then to be my wife

not the first time that I have cried
recalling- bringing back to mind
your standing in on her behalf

I had been- have been-
thought I was being

true to this commitment
you invited, insisted upon

just did not realize
that I was being called
to stand up for Maya,
to stand with her

even if she turned against me
even if
the winds of our romance
shifted

this is a test
don´t know if even you meant
that I should be loyal still

loyal after what we were
or what I thought we were
was over

is this another phase
within our affair

certainly and fortunately
it is another phase
within my life

within her life

fortunately life does go on
life goes on in Mexico City

what of that affair though, our affair
where is it now- what is it now

what are we now
where are we now

what you whispered to me, in English
aside Maya possibly, still,
knows nothing of:

stand by her,
she is very important to us
as a poet, as a teacher,
as a mother, as a daughter
as as sister, as a friend

was like our marriage vows
exchanged, there on that sidewalk

in that neighbourhood
I miss and cherish
cherish and miss

not at all far from her front door
the bars across which, I had keys to
bunch of three she had cut for me

we were beginning to love each other
love between us
was beginning to deepen

adjustments to be made,
we were beginning to face
to confront, to contemplate

her spirit or mine, recalcitrant
stubborn, unwilling to budge
unwilling to move this way or that,
an inch or two

amazing that this call, it seems,
still stands, to stand by her

by whatever commitment it was
that we, at that point, had made

it was a rock
upon which we stood that day

it was solid indeed
it was love indeed
it was truth indeed

it´s me, it´s me, oh, Lord
we, oh, we, oh, Lord
standing in the need of prayer

me, oh, me, oh, Lord
in need of prayer
in the deed of prayer

romance by itself,
fickle, flimsy

needing the undergurding
of Agape to give it substance,
weight, import

to sustain it, to enable it
to sustain us, to bear us up

to hold together what is shifting
what is split, what needs,
miraculously, to be mended

like soles of shoes
holes through leather
needing to be fixed
needing to be placed
in a cobbler´s hands

what did I promise:

to stand by, sit by,
walk beside, run beside
lie beside, die beside her

these vows- these pledges
made in the church
that is all the world

in the church
that is without walls

in the church
that is creation
occurring again

we like the first two people
like that first couple
occurring again
created again

how naked she has left me
we were clothed in our love
in that alone

what is she wearing
without me- away from me

what web or world
is she whirling around in
is she being whirled around in

here I am, my axis is the ball point
of this Bick pen

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
11:54 p.m. 06.01.12

2012-01-07T03:12:00.002-05:00

Peaches & Pears in a Can
for Willem F. Harding

no no no, not X, but Y, but why
but my girlfriend

we were engaged to be married
we still are
how do you reverse that in a week

what if she has left me with cream
to smear onto the head of my penis

an itch, however severe,
can be corrected

what cream is there to smear
onto- rub into the wound
when a heart breaks
when there is a broken heart

what of when
there are two broken hearts

blood pouring from them
in all the wrong places

want her back again
want her back to me

front and back
this way and that

on top of me
on top of her

in intercourse
in love
in Mexico City

Mexican woman
Bahamian man

peaches and pears in a can
to open, to add cream to
the syrup they're in

we used to be so fresh once
exist now only to reflect upon

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
8:45 a.m. 06.01.12

2012-01-05T16:35:00.002-05:00

Sour Limes On It

maybe she is not a quality person after all
for my dick-head to be itching like this

not worth all the fuss, the bother,
not worth all the poems I've written

not worth all my wanting her back
not worth all the tears I've shed

not worth all my weeping and weeping

not worth my so very severely
regretting the loss, the break up

my being tossed out of the house,
shoved into a taxi, carried off

look what I have brought along with me

head of my dick itching
like a going away present

© ObediahMichael Smith, 2012
4:37 a.m. 03.01.12

2012-01-05T16:29:00.000-05:00

Shelter

wanting to go inside something
wanting to go inside somewhere

wanting to be inside something
wanting to be inside somewhere

in love, place to have fallen into
preferring to be out of this world

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
7:03 p.m. 04.01.12

2011-10-16T19:20:00.008-04:00

21
for Leshenna Moss

i.
see you again
see you so seldom
always heaven when I do

angry around the edges
unaware that you are

angry face you'd wear
mask you wear

once we were together
here in this cafe

remember our pledge that day
to be together on your birthday

rainy-Saturday-past
you at work, I at a poetry reading
we apart
our promise never kept

had to seek you out today
gift to surprise you with
you on your new job,
laboring away again

into the kitchen, out front again
orders to place, orders to serve

cooler to stock, beverages in bottles
to cool, these to count and to record

required to take stock
I awaited- awaiting my moment
to break in, to be with you

for a word or two, for a while or less
eager to connect and when I did,
divine

it always is when we make contact
or it usually is

cross with you usually
giving way to what delicious words

ii.
hug her 'til she holler, "Ow!"
cause her to cry out, to cry, "Ow!"

hold her close to me, hard and long
until she scream out, scream, "Ow!"

hug, a pleasure- hug of pleasure
hug her as well to punish her

for the times we should have
been together and instead were apart

squeeze her for the times
I've been unable to reach her
when I expected to hear from her and didn't

squeeze her for all the e-mailed messages
sent to her that have not or have not yet
been answered

she with her cell phone
in her tight jeans pocket
or in her work pants pocket or in her fist

envy the persons who have her phone number
able to call her up, able to locate her
when I cannot

feel excluded also
when her earplugs are plugged in
when her iPod is running
when her music's turned on

when she shuts the world out
to listen to her music

I'm shut out too, shut up, shut off
when she snaps out, snaps into
the groove she gets into
when her iPod's running
when her earplugs are plugged in

at times, she and I are plugged in
have been plugged in to each other

how heavenly it is then
how heavenly it can be

long always for times like those
for times like these

had to squeeze her while I was able to
squeeze in- squeeze out
what is impossible to squeeze out, "Ow"

I'd like to make her holler
for so many reasons, in so many ways

I'd like our physical close-closeness
to be so very long sustaining
instead of fleeting

instead of hello and goodbye
with nothing in between
our being brought together
and our being pulled apart

she with her niece, at home
her sister's daughter, to get to, to watch

déménager, word in French for moving
another reason why
she had to be on her way
when I wanted her to stay
to linger here with me
until 7 p.m.
until Starbucks closes

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 4:40 p.m. and 5:39 p.m.
on Monday, September 26, 2011

2011-10-16T01:49:00.002-04:00

Boat Trip

I gatta hang over the boat rail
over the side of the boat
gatta t'row up my guts

I gat a hang over

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
1:39 p.m. 15.10.11

2011-10-16T00:42:00.011-04:00

With What Ability to Satisfy

i.
she is no one- no woman
from Holy Cross Church
middle class and stuck up and up tight
she is a miracle on earth

pulling down her white, short dress
riding up while she dances
while she gyrates divinely

pulling it up in front to tease
for 1 split-second, to show her pretty panties

woman who could shake like that, I want
woman like that, like her
could keep me satisfied
for the rest of my days

wonder what she'd look like
with her short, white dress off
with her panties off
with her bra or bikini top off as well

skinny woman, fleshy hips
from heaven, able to roll her body
able to make her belly-
able to make her bottom roll

video of her on YouTube
watching it for about 6 hours
no desire to switch to any other

sleepy as I am
up all night, all morning
unable to leave her and go to bed

in my heart, my head
and in my blood
want her inside me, part of me
forever more

added to the girls I love
to those I know in the flesh

her to address, to undress
wish I had her address

wish to God to get to know her
to be able to connect

to add her to the awesome women
in my life actually

not enough to have her on YouTube
her back to me, gyrating
like not too many people can
like not too many women I know
would if they could

especially not church woman
with a dray-load of hang-ups

wish I had her to hang out with
tired of women with hang-ups
to hang with,
to live with without really living

want to go to heaven and to hell
with this angelic someone
with this divine sister of mine

ii.
pulls her white, mini dress
down around the flesh of her hips
to enable who is watching
to taste the sweet peach of her hips

I want to bite into it
where juices run, I want to follow
let none waste

she is too sweet to let drip
and drop upon the ground
too sweet to let get away

what a day, stumbled upon her
and I'm up still
half-past 1 in the afternoon

staying up until the sun comes up
already stretching it
met her on the Internet
and I'm stretched more

what has she done to my heart
with her hips

how she moves them
twists and winds them

simultaneously, I am wound
about her finger
she winds me about her finger

wish it were possible for her to know
what a victim I am of her art

my own art to hit back with
but how and where and when
like boxers in a boxing match
in a boxing ring, could I strike back
with poem I've written of her

with poem her dancing-
her outfit inspired this Saturday,

fifteenth day of October,
on New Providence, here on earth

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 10:25 a.m. and 1:33 p.m.
on Saturday, October 15, 2011

2011-10-05T15:15:00.011-04:00

Flames
for A.G.M.W.

pull out
pull off

put on your sex-pot
turn the burner up beneath it

let it boil
let it cook
let it burn

burn me with your sex-pot
even the handle of it

too hot to touch
too hot to clutch
too hot to handle

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
3:01 p.m. 05.10.11

2011-10-04T15:18:00.003-04:00

After 38 Years
for Priscilla Rollins

Independence morning
is like giving birth, like cutting teeth
like finding feet
no longer will we have to creep

we can walk, we will run, we will fly soon
we might even have to cry soon
but we will shake and drink
the joy with the pain

grown up now, flag of our own
being hoisted now, we're a nation now

add ours- add us
to the other 189 nations of the world
we have a voice now, a say now
a place in this world now

Independence morning,
is like giving birth, like cutting teeth
what a variety of foods we can eat

sitting at the table
with the biggest and the oldest
with the richest and the poorest
nations of the world

make this planet a better planet
make this world a better world

Independence morning
dawn of a day
history nor anyone has ever seen

we can send athletes to Olympics
we can send rockets to the moon

Independence morning
some assume it is arriving late
it is late arriving, but it is arriving
not a moment too soon

did not come in May
did not come in June

Independence morning
dawn is on our doorsteps, knocking

is in our bedrooms, shaking us
waking us, urging us to wake up

Independence morning
168,812 Bahamians
all at once being born
are being liberated

citizens of a new nation
citizens of a new world

Independence morning
a new flag, a new whirl

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
2:27 p.m. 10.09.11

2011-10-04T01:16:00.003-04:00

Other Side
of A Smile
for I.D.

enough for that
I never knew-
I never imagined existed

enough to make me
as enormous
as any woman can

that I assure you
was a terrible surprise
a wonderful surprise

to be in bed
calling out your name

to be as enormous as that
is what I marveled at
fascinated by it still

that enterprise, that exercise
and I almost missed the bank

2 banks in town to catch
had to walk to one near by instead

it closed at 3
on the bus, on my way
to the one that closes at 4

memories of you
thoughts of you
of time in bed

divine visitation
enough to make me go there
do that, feel what I did
holler like I did

that you could
impact me like that
I hadn't a clue
I did not know

that you loved me
that I loved you

skinny girl
big pretty eyes

able to happen to me
able to happen through me

phenomenal woman
when did you arrive
upon the doorstep
of adulthood

when did you grow
out of uniform

happy that your skin fits
happy with the fit of your skin

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
3:32 p.m. 03.10.11

2011-10-01T21:59:00.008-04:00

Broom Street Boy
[for Marco Archer]

death as sweet as candy
calling out to him
had to go out to meet it

money from mommy
change from Baygon
he was sent out to purchase

required, requested
need to go out again to death, to die
too sweet not to meet

why else would he have run out to meet it
to fling himself into arms, into hands
as dirty - as rough as the grave

why he did not run the other way, a mystery

why he did not know better
than to run towards it, towards death

its arms outstretched like a parent
or grandparent

like grand-papa or grand-mama
why did he run in response to such a call

into such arms, outstretched to crush him
squeeze his life out, out his lights

gone for candy, would not return
would not be seen again, alive

his mother regretting, will always regret
rewarding him with change from Baygon

he needed, wanted, waited,
saved it to ask for to go buy candy

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
4:29 p.m. 29.09.11

2011-09-29T21:56:00.004-04:00

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

2011-09-27T22:43:00.001-04:00

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

2011-09-24T03:14:00.006-04:00

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

2011-09-23T06:26:00.002-04:00

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

2011-09-23T04:13:00.004-04:00

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

2011-09-23T00:22:00.012-04:00

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

2011-09-16T00:42:00.001-04:00

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

2011-09-11T22:15:00.004-04:00

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

2011-08-31T02:08:00.000-04:00

Irene Winds

just like that, in no time flat
the cover off the bottle
and there is a hurricane
blowing, howling like holy hell

and you haven't a choice
you have to drink,
you have to swallow

who took the cap off
deliberately or accidentally
who or what let this out, set this off

my God, I hope my sons,
their mother and all of their siblings
are safe and sound

don't know what
the house they abide in can withstand

what, I wonder, has caused
all hell to break loose

this is a visitation, a visitor
far worse than Columbus
than Ponce de Leon

what change
will have been visited upon us
in a day or two

among this archipelago of islands

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
7:53 p.m. 25.08.11

2011-08-23T00:12:00.004-04:00

In Love & Left Out
of L.M.

i.
can I make your cell phone
vibrate in your jeans pocket
wherever you are, whoever you're with

were you prepared for me
to want you like this
to need you like this

to need to reach you out of the blue
out in the deep, needing to know
if you're out fishing, out to lunch
out on the town, out of town

out of your clothes, out of your skin
or out of your mind

I am out of my mind or almost
over needing to make contact

to know exactly where you are
what you're doing

where could you be, who could you be with
why I've not heard from you

I had to go and fall in love and be left out
out in the cold as hot as it is

my baby, nowhere to be found
pen alone to seek you

no cell phone, no cell phone number
to make your phone
in your jeans pocket
vibrate when I dial your number

when we parted at the bus stop
I hadn't a clue it would have been this long
this gap
between then and when next we met

this unexpected separation

am I in your heart and thoughts
to the degree, to the extent
that you are haunting me,

causing me to ache and long
to pine and yearn, sick with missing you
from how much I'm missing you

here imagining, someone else
is holding you, keeping you, kissing you

who was it who called while we were out
who interrupted our date

who has your cell phone number
when I don't
connected to you, when I'm not

ii.
so you have become another one
of the few persons, I suffer to see

bleeding poems, weeping poems
peeing poems in the interim

to fill in the space, to fill in the time

difficult, the times to live through
that I must live through
without you

without a word, without a sign

without a bit of knowledge
of your whereabouts

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 7:10 p.m. and 7:48 p.m.
on Monday, August 22, 2011

2011-08-21T01:15:00.006-04:00

1850
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

2011-08-17T03:06:00.004-04:00

On Sandy Feet
for A.G.M.W.

i.
like you fat, lick you fat
what it is, I am unaware, that flesh affects

more to eat, more for me
more meat upon the bone
is what it is about or largely about or a lot about

a lot instead of a little
that is what you have become

though you are short, what a lot of woman
what a serious amount of you to love

that though is still but a part of it
way you are able to turn, to twist

what you are able to do with your legs
and arms, your eyes and hips

what a variety of postures to run through, swiftly
like scales to play in harmony
and in contrary motion

remember the notes on the piano
when I took lessons
with Meta Davis-Cumberbatch's sister

notes along your spine to play
though I can just look at you and tingle

Vladimir Horowitz comes to mind
his recital upon returning to Russia
after having been in exile for over 60 years

what feels almost as long
is my time of hands-off where you are concerned

used to look without a word expressed
or with a word or two here or there or now or then

now assume time is right or not giving a damn
if it is or not, make the most of you
taste of you, eat of your forbidden fruit

what if it drips- what if it stains
where and when your juices run or drop or drip

let me be caught, what do I care
with evidence in my hands and mouth

every time we've met, earth has seemed
like some other planet

or as if we were butterflies or humming birds
in mid-air, dancing, wings vibrating without ceasing

unable, in your presence, to be still or to keep still
without fail, something spills

what magic beans you fill my hands and pockets with
able to enchant, able to bewitch

ii.
you could get hungry there
hungry for something
hungry for supper

to suck her
to fuck her

she could want it
once she's had it

and could salivate to take
and to taste it

silent as a woman is
about such needs

a pussy could scream
could cry, could cry out

for a man, for wood
for manhood,

for mankind
for the kindness of a man

iii.
ah, the weight of those
the way to those

waiting to be bare
to bear witness

two bare breasts
nipples protruding
invitation extended
to lick and suck them

what are they like bare
are they like beer
to suck down - to drunk me
to drink until intoxicated

could I take it
if she dropped her draws
discarded brassiere
whirling it and then letting it fly
and land however, wherever

naked before me to adore
to get down on my knees before

V the other way around, up-side-down
to get to the peak of

steeple of the church of love
to venture up into
to love her, to have her
to let her have me

to satisfy her deep yearning
deep need

need I, with what I write,
with songs I sing, ignite in her

light my fire, keep it burning
and I comply
obliged to do so
love to do so

oh how sick I fear I am
do not know with what

know that hours masturbating
hours watching Bat Masterson

have contributed
to what I have come to
I am like something nearly spent

stumble upon her this late in life
just becoming- just become a woman

I look at her, I see her and I want her

how well we relate
from the moment we met
we were friends - what simpatico

only just become of age
and I am hungry, thirsty, horny for her

the right picture or pictures to assist
and I hang on in there
until I have the fits

wish we could have the fits together
I inserted deep in her
could pin her if she got too wild

pin her to the mattress of the bed
with my dick in her
let her flutter until she was finish

until I had come and she had come
until we were both spent
and we could both, upon our backs
panting, collapse, relax

having made love
like a basket weaver
weaves a basket
goes to the market
fills it with fruit

pumpkin, cabbage, carrots, beets
tomatoes, sweet potatoes, yams
sugar apples, sour sop

with her basket on her head
walk home from the market
contented

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 7 p.m.,
Monday, August 15
and 1:27 p.m., Tuesday,
August 16, 2011

2011-08-05T21:56:00.003-04:00

Hope Town
for Anna Albury

bursting out of her blindness
that enthusiastic about life
that in love with life, with living it
with getting on, with going places

see Ray Charles on YouTube, singing
"Hit the Road Jack,"
think of how expressive he is or was
how super talented

think of Stevie Wonder
one of my favorite artists
in any field, of any time, in all the world

it is to this group of super stars
super men and super women
that she very likely belongs

well on her way already
appearing in TV as she does
jumping off docks in Abaco
as she does

head girl of her school as she is
all the things she does blind

does what so many who can see
do not
goes where so many with sight
do not dare

she is fearless
forward, it seems,
is what- is all she knows
she is destined to go places

this year she won
most outstanding
primary school student of the year
in The whole Bahamas

determined to transcend her handicap
we all have handicaps
one form or another

some allow theirs to cripple them
incapacitated, go nowhere
crushed from inside or from without

hers is a spirit, bubbling up, bubbling over

what in the world is she going to be
hope I am around still to bear witness

seems as if there is no limit
not impossible to touch the sky
it is where she came from, that is evident

without sight but what light she brings

what an extraordinary person
bouncing along, over-exuberant

eager to continue
destination to get to
light to get to, heights to get to

what holds us back
to get over, to get through

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
12:23 p.m. 15.07.11

2011-07-30T19:19:00.005-04:00

Well of Rubies
for A.G.M.W.

let it slip in, slide,
let it slip and slide
let it slip inside

inside where it belongs

long, long way to go
to get to the end of the road

to the end of the passage inside
Passage to India
to in-deep inside her

intercourse after all
knew it would have come to this

tear a page to get inside her
for us to get besides ourselves

let dba be as annoyed as she likes
we had this date like Stella and Stanley
from the outset

drawn to her a long time
had to wait until she graduated
to insert rubies in her opening

within wet lips
knew she always wanted it-
to swallow this- to swallow dick

to have it rub against
the-man-in-the-boat
the man in her boat
her man-in-the-boat

push him aside to get inside her
squeeze my way into where
I'd fit well- into where I fit well
well to dip in- to dip up water

pussy will spill tears, will spit juices
pussy lips spitty
as my dick head

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
9:07 a.m. 30.07.11

2011-07-28T16:33:00.020-04:00

Eggs I should have Boiled
for D.B.A.

all out poured upon the ground
milk enough to make so many cakes

instead of in a baking pan
so very many eggs
broken and emptied out
upon the ground as well

so very much of me, wasted
attempting to love a girl 19
she will be 20 in 14 weeks
in love with her from 17

about 3 years
of emptying out myself
upon the ground

most precious- most expensive
substance, elements of me
I thought to impart

dish with my heart,
this too dropped and broken
so much on the ground
or down the drain

affair that I sometimes thought
was like a dream
risked loving, giving, sharing

but it has thus far
added up to nothing more
than poems on paper

what will they come to be worth
when

I might die not knowing
die assuming it was all a failure

experiment of heart and soul
biggest investment I have ever made
in this life, on this earth

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
11:39 a.m. 27.07.11

2011-07-10T12:57:00.002-04:00

JFK Cuba
KFC Cuba
for Castro & JFK

is Cuba really breathing in and out
or is it a place that is
in a lot of ways- as well as on
a lot of levels- holding its breath until

holding it until it can find relief
or until relieved

Cuba unprepared to say Uncle
determined not to say Uncle

even if it is turning blue
even if expiring, even if dying

determined not to cry, not to cry out
not to cry, ow! ow! ow!

hurting, however much,
Cuba is determined
to make music and dance

'59 Fords and Chevrolets,
smoking, backfiring

smoking, choking too,
Cuba lights up another cigarette
another cigar

good to go, good to go on
as long as the fight lasts
as long as they have to

this embargo,
lasting a few life times
grin and bear it
Castro does, Castro has

endure until the cows come home

is it unknown who killed
John F. Kennedy in '63

is Cuba in jail because of this
because of it

who was it who was
sentenced to death for this
for that assassination

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
7:58 p.m. 09.07.11

2011-07-10T03:26:00.008-04:00

19, 38, 57
for D.B.A.

you want to smell me
feel me, taste me

you want to chafe me
relieve me/leave me
no longer chase

that is if I ever was
that is if I have been
since a long time ago

I have decided
to let you have
your heart's desire
decided to let you
overdose on me

decided to see
that you are satiated,
intoxicated

D'Anthra juices,
all you can wash your face in
all you can swill,
all you can swallow

make me as sloppy as you like
as sloppy as can be

I am going to let you see
if you like actually
what you'd fantasize about

what you have been
fantasizing about
for too long
far too long

see if you'd skin up your upper lip
because you'd have had enough
or because you want more
and more

ram goat, billy goat
come ram me as hard
as you like
for a night

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
2:35 p.m. 10.07.11

2011-07-09T02:22:00.003-04:00

Ideerah

what has happened
I was wondering
to the pretty, pleasant girls
at the cash register

who know just how
to treat a customer

this one, too young
where did she come from
with manners
as rough as the grave-
as tough as nails

frightening
how aggressive
how insensitive
I thought she was

impolite and never smiling

I turned away and turned back
it was as if a season
in an instant, changed

contrast so stunning
I could hardly believe
it was the same girl

terrible look upon her face
in an instant was someone
terribly beautiful

that deserved recording
by no less a camera
no less a cinematographer
than Sven Vilhem Nykvist

in color though
rather than in black and white
the difference between
day and night

and what sparked it
I wasn't sure

I asked, she told me
it was nothing

something she
and the boy packing shared

she cashing
and bagging
what she sold as well

insisting that the tip
was hers not his

what a mask she wears

Afghan girl,
Sharbat Gula's face
not more frightening
than her face is usually

like something wild
about to spring
which just might spring
and you had better beware

that other mask
underneath it though
her laughing face

ecstatic about life
about being alive

happy and I was unaware
thought she was made of nails
throughout and all through

only to find her
full of petals also
underneath facade
as soft as could be
as pretty as could be

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
2:07 p.m. 22.06.11

2011-07-01T19:30:00.003-04:00

In Raincoats
in Tortuguero
for Ileana & Rafael

her husband,
with what attentive eyes,

is able to observe
what stretches of silence

while his wife, vivacious,
talks, thoughts
flashing swiftly,
puts into words
adds to what's in this world

what I found to own
to want to make my own

shade of her skin
brown, baked in what oven

she said she swims
almost everyday

but only heaven
can explain her color

it is not just in response
to the sun in the sky

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
9:22 a.m. 13.05.11

2011-06-24T11:09:00.003-04:00

Turtle Fills a Hole with Eggs
for T.L.A.

thank you for being with me
in my world

you in my life
and I do not have to be
entirely without Costa Rica
I do not have to be
entirely outside of it

with you in my life,
I can be inside of Costa Rica
and it can be, through you,
inside of me also
and at the very heart of me
where I have located you
allowed you
where you
are situated within me

where you have, with consent
taken up residence

why I am so depressed, so low
I do not know

it might have to do
with all the things
I have to face and to do
after 6 weeks away

it might have to do with
the quality of life in this place

such appallingly low standards
for a place as lovely
as everybody says it is

with a population so small
just over 300,000 and chaos
mayhem

so many among us
so very poorly educated

systems here
not working as they should
breaking down or broken down
not as effective as they aught to be

tourism sector, banking sector
as efficient as can be
well organized, well run
among the best in the world

local life though,
of the lowest standards
intimidated by this place, shy of it

I use to have more room
I used to fear less
but my territory, more and more
has shrunk

there are elections around the bend
fever of elections heating up
some online communication
going on

without end, ending up in my in-box
it depresses me, annoys me
I delete them all without opening one

these politicians, I have concluded
are part of the problem
only pretend that they are
out to find solutions

maybe the solutions
to what involves tourism and banking
maybe what involves
their immediate family and their friends

but I do not see the good life
coming to or getting to Kemp Road,
where I live, anytime soon

how I miss that hotel
where I stayed, in San Jose

those long showers I used to take
each day

since returning home on Sunday,
fifth day of June,
I have washed myself all over
once or twice

I wash my face, brush my teeth
call it a day
that way day after day
and will go on week after week

miss as well the 3 meals a day
I'd eat in Costa Rica
lunch in the cafeteria
at Universidad de Costa Rica

it is by far a nicer place than here
less than forty cents to catch the bus

here you pay $1.25
and what an atmosphere, what a culture

you board a bus not knowing
what you will be greeted with

why is it not constant, consistent,
pleasant on any bus you board

you go for as many jitney rides
as buses you catch
I dread having to take them

I'd pray that one will come
that I can live with

why is the government powerless
to say a word or lift a finger
against so many negative people
against so much
negative behavior

what agreements,
they leave me wondering,
have me wondering,
have they made or do they make
to get elected

are the people promised
that they will be free
to govern themselves
if who ask them for their support
gets elected

a waste of time complaining
about or trying to change
what has been sanctioned
by the highest offices in the land

why therefore should I lift a finger
or raise a hand

want to pick myself up
and be off,
back to Hotel Aranjuez

so what if earthquakes shake it
now and then

music booming in vehicles pulling up
or going by or the endless roar
of endless motor bikes on my street
and the earth quakes
and hardly ever stops

upheaval that is not at all good
for mind, body or soul

Tat in my life but she's far away
in Limón

I have pictures, her messages
but are these enough
strong enough medicine
against how sick I feel
in my heart and soul tonight

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
5:30 a.m. 21.06.11

2011-06-19T23:49:00.002-04:00

Spit & Kisses
for T.L.A.

dirty or clean,
I've kissed my computer screen

your face on it
my lips to press up against yours
flesh against glass

two or three kisses
passionate kisses

our first kiss or first kisses
carried away tonight
this Father's Day

you in Limón with your dad
with your family
with classmates

a joint assignment
some project …

black out
lights out

you do not want to hear, Tat,
the cuss I cuss
how angry I am

BEC unable to keep the lights on
for two seconds

this cotton pickin' little country
as backward as could be
as inefficient as can be

this island, the country's capital
functioning like some out island,
like a remote family island

so much for a poem
about our first kiss
my lips pressed up against glass
your picture upon it

I must attach the picture
which inspired these kisses

I cannot say why
kissable lips
a look in your eyes

and having to live through today
as well as the last few days
with hardly a word from you

more than I can take
more than I can bear

do you know that song, Tat,

if you can't be
with the one you love
then love the one you're with

was it you I kissed
or was it just glass

your ass to kiss instead
wish it were as near

as available as this computer
I am forever before
this computer at which I worship

at least until black out
at least until the lights go out

I cuss bad bad just now
I am happy you were not here
to hear me

my mouth filling up with expletives
I had to spit out - over and over again

until release
until relief

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
9:53 p.m. 19.06.11

2011-06-15T17:47:00.004-04:00

By A Stem Attached
for T.L.A.

did I pick her or did she pick me
bitter or sweet,
off of what tree
in what garden growing

her country is Eden,
as green as Genesis
as green as
in the beginning

what about the fruit that I am
and the fruit that she is
nearer ripe or nearer green

or are we both spoiled rotten
by each other
with all our mutual
love and attention
love and affection

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
3:23 p.m. 15.06.11

2011-06-15T06:05:00.001-04:00

Beginning to be Able
to See the Bird in the Cage

cage of words with a bird inside
singing

more and more, I am beginning
to comprehend Spanish

poems spoken aloud, CD I play
and fall asleep listening
or when I wake, I listen,
lying in bed

like cages of words
I can see clearly through
I can see clearly into

able to make out more and more
like when the sun is coming up
when day is dawning

night lifts and dew
upon everything everywhere
is left to be seen

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
2:24 p.m. 10.06.11

2011-06-15T05:08:00.002-04:00

Self to Leave Behind

feces down the toilet
how many times in six weeks

my feces and my pee
assurance that I would forever
be mixed in with
Costarican rivers, soil

how long will it be
before the part of my pee
that is fresh water
passes through taps
through faucets

until it is Costarican water
that is safe to drink

how long before my feces
is in fruits, in vegetable

is converted into frageant flowers

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
1:28 p.m. 02.06.11

2011-06-08T11:08:00.003-04:00

Flash of Peace
for T.L.A.

never fails to get her peace out

sign she forms usually
with two fingers of her left hand

quick to draw, to pull and flash
before the camera flashes

peace she pulls
with one hand or the other
like someone with two guns

like days of old
in the USA, when it was a matter of
who was the fastest gun in the West
who got to survive, to remain alive

pulls her peace as if
it were a life and death matter

even if it is overlooked, it's out,
her peace, out, held up

antithetical actually
to the pulling of knife or gun
to the pulling of weapon

it is for peace that she draws
some of them sometimes
hidden or partially hidden

in the long sleeve of sweater
or jacket or some outfit

usually out though
when the camera clicks,
snaps, flashes

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2001
5:38 p.m. 07.06.11

2011-04-25T05:57:00.007-04:00

Intimacy Still Able to Spill
for D.B.A.

1
do you close as tight as this container
made of plastic, you brought me salad in
this is not for you, you said, this is for us two

how was such a visit, such an event ruined
we just came apart like hands in hell
dismantling us, dismantling love

how though could hell have had the upper hand
or seem to have had
while heaven was matching us up so well

a match though that you yourself resist
not wanting us to be lovers but to be friends

but though we do not- have not yet
gotten into bed, we do, without end, copulate
on levels she herself is shy of

so there is heaven and its intentions
hell with its intentions and her and me
on earth, coming together and coming apart
as we have been, as we often are

oh about this salad container
with its black bottom, with its clear, plastic top
rescued from a plastic, garbage bag
from a doorknob, hanging

washed it up to preserve memory in
I had had half of a tomato in it, in the refrigerator

amazed, just now, to find how tight it closes
thought of you and of your nature
about which I know nothing
intimate as we are

2
at least it was her with her stormy face
with whom I went, in whom I came
and not some other female

thought I was past her, over her,
done with her, only to find no one
this morning, able to arouse me
to the degree that she could or was able to

surprise to find such intense stimulation
what I thought had passed, back again
or never left

my love for her, her love for me, lurking,
lingering

all her outfits, pictures in tight shorts,
in short dress
in some outfits, in some shots,
a lot of breast exposed

she stimulates me or did this morning
like no one could,
like no other pictures observed

calling out her name, kissing her pussy
kissing moist lips on my computer screen

carried away like that/like this
carried away I was, like rediscovering her

absence and it seems
my heart has grown fonder

hard-on, hard and long, lasted long
lasted until I ejaculated

dish washing liquid, Pine-Sol and rag,
which was once an underpants,
to clean what I came, up off the carpet

up when I should have been
sleeping, napping,
with all that I have
upon my plate to accomplish

3
we are nothing now
we were something once

how did it come to this
come down to this

from what we had
from where we were

how did we- why did we-
when and where did we disconnect

she cannot be happy or complete
with me so empty

when did I decide to divide
decide that she was so imperfect
when did she decide that I wouldn't do

when we were perfect, we were unaware
hindsight and I'm hollering, howling
in pain, unable to bear
how detached
we've become

how reckless we are
with what we are or were
with what we have or had

would smash without a second thought
what we expect to maintain whole

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 11:15 p.m., on Sunday,
April 17 and 2:04 a.m., on Monday,
April 25, 2011

2011-04-24T01:00:00.001-04:00

Puffs of White Smoke
for D.B.A.

1
unable to see
I'm able to see
must run to the right window
the window nearest the street

black mini-blinds to part
with fingers I'd been eating with

woman glimpsed, passing
not enough to satisfy
just enough to trigger desire
to fire want, attired in something to entice
something white and tight
and trimmed in red

two windows and I am unable
to see her clearly
with the building next door going up
its belt course poured
and how my view of who passes by
is limited, is reduced

cut back from what and from how it was once
my windows were wider then and so was time

allowed glimpses,
ticking of my heart, speeding up
ticking fast, feet of some woman or another
attired hot, going by

pull at, pluck at a poet's heart strings
vicious, aggressive enough
to pop a string or two of harp or heart

when, oh, God,
will my heart string appear, come along
to play me, to make music

unlike what starts and breaks off
starts and breaks off

2
I know you, you know me
do not pretend that we do not

why you and I are tied together
as we are is not to be revoked
is not to be taken lightly

I have no wish to revoke
your importance in my life
or to replace you

you are queen of my life
you are my princess
do not desire, do not wish
to dethrone you
or to disown you

however much you do humiliate
or have humiliated me,
I am yours to misuse and to abuse

I know you will be merciful
I pray God that you will be
I'll suffer what I must until you are

I used to walk upon my father
when I was a small child
with small feet

I used to because of his Arthritis

we used to piss and spit,
shit and throw up upon our mothers
and not offend

similarly, you do not or should not
offend me with these acts
and if and when you do,
I am able, soon after, to pardon you

3
this love is as much a gift for me
as it is for you

what you are given, I am given too
tied together by it, by this
whatever this gift gives or takes away

in the name of love, what all
am I prepared to have torn from me

possessions, clothes, skin,
sins stripped away, whatever it takes
for love's sake, for closeness
for close-knit, for clothes knitted
to cover our nakedness
clothes crocheted
for this occasion or that

clothes to drop to the floor
when alone on a June evening
after 24 months of our relationship
what will we be then and how

time off from each other, to reflect
and to more deeply connect

the pope, newly crowned, looks down
into Basilica Square, upon the thousands
gathered there and he is humbled
as I am by this gift, by this opportunity
to know joy and sorrow for the sake of love

for knowing it, for knowing you
opportunity of opportunities
to open a heart, to open two
to see what, in addition
to blood, hearts contain

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written on Holy Saturday,
April 23, 2011 between
6:40 p.m. and 8:52 p.m.

2011-04-18T20:26:00.004-04:00

Pissed On Pissed Off
for D.B.A. & T.L.C.

1
mistreats me, misunderstands me
when I'm innocent of everything
but trying to stay alive
but avoiding dying of boredom

want to be as close to a girl
as I can possibly be
my dick head, so much like
her vaginal lining

made to slide, to glide up in
and out of this passage
without abrasion

this I suppose I do desire
my smooth dick head
with its pink skin
soft soft soft and hard hard hard
to open her anus

ease it in her, open her up
in spite of the fact that she
would not let me near her

I'm unable to touch her
she would not let me

fear of how far I might go
fear she'd let me,
fear she’d want it, want me

so she must go to extremes
punish herself, punish me

refusal, rejection, too extreme
because I am able,
willing to drink her pee

too close to her, to achievement
to be allowed
to drink through one straw
eat with one fork

she is afraid of how
intellectually intimate we are
of how integrated we are
in the poems I've written
in my poems of her
in this one I am writing
the last word of

2
just let her go back into the sea
like the inedible fish that she is

pulling in all of this time
what should never have been
on the end of my line

fish I can't boil or stew or fry
what's poison
on the end of my line

fish what can't fry, what can't fly
flying fish on my line
and I could fly away from her

dragging me down
bringing me down

clown fish, no fun, not funny
with it on my line,
I cry all the time

3
fuck her, I could fuck her
ease this erection
I've had for her for ages

sheath for my sword
to shove it in, in which it fits
made for it

drawn like it has been
all these years
without putting it down
without putting it away

in rain, in sunlight
moon and stars
reflecting off it
hitting it,
bouncing off

drawn, extended
in weather changing
affecting it,
year in, year out
in for a change, for a time

she can swallow me up
swallow me down
contain from tip
to its grip in my fist

female for male
woman for man
woman she is
man that I am

pissed off with whom
she should be
able to withstand
whatever the depth
of desire or ire

crossing swords
like a couple of men
I am man, she my woman
made for piece, for peace
for love, for loving

4
you need to be screwed
into place in my life
like a light bulb

like pieces of wood
a screw passing through

merciless with me
merciless with you

strange that love
should inspire
not caring if you hurt
or if I did

pain in love and life
what a place it has

unable to get over it
around it, under it
unable to pass it by
must pass through it

my dick, your pussy
no longer a kitty
with twine in a ball

cannon ball
for you to play with
to pay with

war to end and to start
where your legs part

what have I but dick
to insert, to insist you take
into your fiercely beating heart

after this
we'll never part
dick to part you with

path to trod, Holy Week,
cross to carry, tomb to visit
Easter coming

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 1:45 p.m.
and 3:21 p.m. on Monday,
April 18, 2011

2011-04-03T12:20:00.004-04:00

Up Side Down On Dry Dock
for D.B.A.

I reject second base
second place, second best
as she is well aware

attempt all she can, when she can
to keep apart, two hearts, two parts
two players, attached to her tail

tale of two lives, tale of our lives
I without end, telling, relating
versifying, testifying

for better or worse
winners and losers
left upon sidelines, shorelines

upon the scrap heap of history
scraping out plates
scraping off paint

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
12:58 a.m. 03.04.11

2011-04-03T11:38:00.001-04:00

Cock Crow Rooster Rise

i.
I am ripe, I am ready
I am spoiling on the vine
it's past time
come pick me
come eat me
I am your water melon

aren't you hungry
aren't you thirsty

I am horny you know you are

ii
why is she wearing
more than just hair
more than the length and weight of her locks

such a photo shoot for Penthouse or Oui
this one in swimsuit, in pink, two-piece
fit for Sports Illustrated

one of them or two of them
I have never seen surpassed
by any woman anywhere

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
written on Saturday, April 2, 2011
between 2:55 p.m. and 3:15 p.m.

2011-03-29T04:07:00.002-04:00

Too Big Eyes
for D.B.A.

is your pussy clean, as dirty as you are

as dirty as you are, how delicious you look

what contrasting ideas
you in your corduroy, blue cap, white T-shirt
and your aqua-blue tights

who snapped this shot
other pictures of you in this outfit
unaware you looked like this
in what you wore to work, to turn heads
to cause hearts, like hooves, to quicken

someone snapped this shot of you
to keep you turned this way

who has taste for woman, for beauty
unable to help but drool

with the men about you in person
for hours, mixing cement, bending over
bending down, sitting down, getting up
I envy them the delight it must have been

your big thighs and where they meet
to make eyes big, too big eyes stare
a pair here, a pair there

how many pairs of eyes upon you
in pretty, dirty tights and T-shirt

construction worker's old brown leather gloves
pants an inch or two below your knees
old shoes on, lower legs bare and dirty too

my God, my girl, how sweet you look
is this Guatemala where you were
laboring, working on a construction site
corn field behind you

my God,
what legs you have, what an anatomy
a common laborer or pretending to be

but what a field of fruit,
clothes and dirt unable to hide
melon to slice open, mouth and tongue
to bury in it, to bite into it

even in this outfit, I could bite you in two
I could eat you

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
8:31 a.m. 02.01.11

2011-03-17T20:59:00.002-04:00

Love Underwear
for D.B.A.

1.
able too readily, my darling, Dee,
to turn upon the wrong side
like you did this morning
like you did that evening
Olive Senior gave her lecture
and we listened apart

able to, in an instant,
turn upon the wrong side
on the wrong side
no one to deal with or be with

I tried to stop you leaving
you wouldn't hear me
would not be appeased
turned about or turned around
emotionally or otherwise

you so stubborn, Dee,
when you ready to switch
to be a bitch, to pitch a fit
admit to contributing to it
to being a bit difficult too sometimes
but what of love, at the core
at the door, knocking

what of reason, logic
but girl, your cussing me
certainly arouses me
it gives me a hard on

you know what else does
what did this morning

when you turn from being rough
from playing rough and turn soft
tender, gentle, loving

you looked at me
with something in your eyes
I cannot describe
something moist and warm

what inside to produce such a look
I hardly able to bear
being looked upon like that
switch to that from cussing, fussing, fighting
how wonderfully devastating

we have gotten under each other’s skin
you and I, Dee

you suggest that this miracle
has only happened- is only happening
to me - you lie

what was that if it was not love
that I saw this morning in your eyes

what do you see in my eyes
that you make no mention of

what is it especially that assures you
of my love

what is it that most convinces you
that I am- that I do

you certainly seem convinced
of my commitment
of the strength and depth of it

how deep does your love go
I want to dive in, see if it's sea
or if it's ocean

how awful our break up was this morning
disagreeable girl, what did you think
of my threat of a tamarind switch

one you'd have to- or two
you'd have to plait into one yourself
for me to give you the whipping
you at times deserve

the whipping you'd go out of your way to earn

I just want to love you, Dee, punish you
with my tongue lapping, between your legs
like waves

2.
drank your juice
cup containing it
you had set upon the floor
you had crossed your legs
your left foot- your shoe bottom
dangling over the uncovered cup

love and loved the spontaneity
of your motion, your moving about
of all your prankish activity
but cup with juice upon the floor
is for me a no no

careless about what might drop off
dust off your shoe bottom

hypochondriac that I am
think, hours after, of that equation

cup upon the floor, your flat foot
in your shoe, dangling, mindlessly
over it

think of what I'm eager to- willing
to do to you-
what I'm wiling to suck and to lick,
fuck and prick

trust that I can take you into my mouth
without thinking twice
without worry at all

but might you be as careless
with your uncovered cut
as you were with orange juice
in an uncovered cup

my black mug for tea
I served you juice in

3.
is she an ass or what
to make subordinate
to her affair with a boyfriend
Baptist minister's son
what she and I are sharing
what she and I are working on

we are in the forefront
of what is happening
in Bahamian literature
as well as upon a lofty plain
in what is happening
in literature in the Caribbean

what she and I are sharing,
creating, a phenomenon
of all time and in all the world
or it very well can be

this dynamic, this activity
she places or wishes to place
beneath her play play love affair

how can she give that
greater significance
than this frontier we're on
where we've been cast
upon which we find ourselves

am I to conclude that she
does not know what to value how
without a clue about
the value of art, hers or mine
or art period

she it is who insists upon
rubbing paintings on canvas
with her open palm like a JA
is it that she is unaware
of the value and significance
of what we are involved in
in spite of the plateau
up to which I've elevated her
up to which I've pulled her
her along with her art

more than 75 % of all I write
of all I've written in 12 months
is of her

all of this, all of these
beneath the feet
of her boyfriend and her
poetry for them two
to trample over –
to trample on –
to trample across

fuck her if she is unaware
of the high high shelf
upon which literature
upon which art belongs

must rescue poetry
from beneath her feet
elevate it to heaven
from where it came
to earth, to us

but not intended
to be trampled on
not for her to clean her hip with

offered to clean her hip
with my tongue,
lick it until clean
do what dogs do

poetry of that though
don't suppose she can appreciate

how can I put first
who'd put poetry second
or put poetry last
or put poetry down

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 3:05 p.m. on Monday,
March 14 and 2:18 a.m. on Wednesday,
March 16, 2011

2011-03-08T01:24:00.001-05:00

Face It
for Sloan Smith

I am in enough trouble as it is
with forbidden tree
with forbidden fruit
but how tasty it is to look

I see so many of the persons
closest to me
in her eyes, on her face,
in her bones and hands
in fleshy parts, in fleshy places

in her dress and shoes,
with 6-inch heels,
in black bracelet that she wears

is it a wig she wears
hair down to the top of her back

upper back bare
her legs, mostly bare also
how her high heels
cause her legs to go

wall of square tiles
she presses palms against
floor of tiles, of larger squares

why though did she decide
to stand just there
where is this where she is

what she's wearing,
attired in, for what outing
as sexy as could be
as pretty as could be

why the decision to be
photographed from behind

what thoughts behind
the picture taken
behind the poem written

behind or before
actions taken from waking up
to going back to bed each day
from being born
to being dead

I've put a wrong word in
added a word I should not have

was this not meant to be
a happy poem, a cheerful song

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
2:28 p.m. 07.03.11

2011-03-08T00:42:00.001-05:00

Substantive
Substances
for D.B.A.

you are not even a little bit
better than I am, my darling
that I reject utterly and entirely

your response to me or to my response
to you, implies that you are- because young
or because female or because of these combined,
one price meat and I, another

certainly to your mind, I am much much less expensive

a pound or more of mine, of me, of meat that I am
not enough to trade for an ounce of the meat
that you are

more like the difference, the price
of an ounce of silver, compared with
the price or worth of an ounce of gold

but you are silver and I am gold
in spite of your being young, in spite
of your being female

all this time to cultivate, refine, accumulate
the substance comprising me

how can we compare 19 with 56
and what we've been able to put
in these years or to have, for 19 years,
compared with 56 years, maintained, unscratched
that core, of which Earnest Hemingway
often wrote and often spoke

you are wonderful, I have been as wonderful
for a longer time

it is in you that I see myself reflected
my love and passion for you have to do with
my being able to love myself in you
like I could not otherwise

I am not in love with you because
you are wonderful and I am not
not because you are cheese
and I am snot

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
11:48 p.m. 07.03.11

2011-03-06T15:48:00.005-05:00

A Heart-in-the-bag
for D.B.A.

let the miracle be love actually
where these differences are
where these conflicts occur

so if I am not loved in return
or not loved as I'd have wished I was
am I to cut off, am I to cease loving
or am I instead to weep
through heartache, through heartbreak

is being in love about its being reinforced
responded to positively
or being or what is true being
in spite of whether it is encouraged
or not encouraged, celebrated
or not celebrated

do you think of what I want
of what would make me happy
of what I need to be happy

the points we come to-
the edges we've been on or out on
the things we've been through
the pains and times of laughing out loud

I am sure that time and time again
with words, I've made her pussy wet
made her cunny hole leak molasses

she refuses to tell me when she has
or when she is having her period
she just shuts off, cuts off, shuts up
if I ask- whenever I ask

I must abide what I must abide
put up with what I must put up

tossed is what I am, by her, by love
I must let it, let them toss away

how far will it or will she fling me I know not
I want to trust love and her, want to trust
loving her

will I be stepped on or walked on
might she wipe her feet off on me
should I mind- should it matter

the glass that my heart is or that it's in
can break again, can shatter

I shudder at the thought
like I would or do in cold weather

is she concerned that I am well
that I am warm
or if I'm well and warm or not

contact between us, fortunately,
since we met, has gone- goes on
with gaps but without being interrupted

like life line or fishing line
but who is fishing and who is caught

how the fish dances out in the ocean
at the end of the line, unable to free itself

rises, falls back, splash - splash after splash

similarly, we are at two ends of a poem
of poetry, hers and mine

she said she has done nothing
to cause me to love her as I do
she didn't have to

it was, in heaven, already done
where things are perfectly done

all she did was to walk into the room
when she walked out, my heart,
with her books, was in the bag
across her arm

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
2:53 p.m. 06.03.11

2011-03-06T06:03:00.001-05:00

Rope
for D.B.A.

1
I want to sacrifice
what I sacrifice for you

I want to put out
as much as I put out

dig down, deep down as I dig
to root up, to uproot
what I uproot

you, shallow, resist me
doing this, my going as deep as I go

do not want to have to
in response, go as deep
want to keep it shallow

don’t want me therefore
to go too deep to cause you
to feel guilty or put upon

at 19, committed
be being superficial
at least with me, with your pussy
not yet unzipped
zipped shut still

want to unzip it, unbutton it
with my tongue, with teeth

want to eat your pussy open
its lips apart, get to your heart

up to it,
enter in where your thighs open

2
taste in my mouth, she'd put there

at times, her tongue in my mouth
would taste like sawdust
like what I am unable to swallow
unwilling to swallow

tasteless, she'd serve me
what she'd serve me, unbearable
what she'd offer me to eat

instead of her ass hole
her pussy hole: wet spitty lips

3
she’s in love with a man
who’s 56 years old
or he’s in love with her

one way or another,
they are going together
going somewhere or another

neither of them desiring to let go
though the rope at times
too swiftly, passes
through his fist or hers
and they holler, “Ow!”
but grip it up again

gain or loss, faced with
these options,
choose not to lose
but to hang on, hang in, hold on
and not let go

things to sow, it’s the season to do so

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 1:50 a.m. and 3:49 a.m.
on Saturday, March 5, 2011

2011-03-06T01:42:00.000-05:00

What If

what if in The Bahamas
Haitians got the upper hand

and commenced rounding up Bahamians
and detaining them in detention centres

to be sent off, like American Indians,
to some reservation on a family island or on several

or in concentration camps
like Jews, to exterminate

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
10:42 p.m. 05.03.11

2011-03-06T01:08:00.002-05:00

Does not Lift a Finger
Has A Straw to Add
for D.B.A.

i.
to have said that you do nothing
and that you have done nothing
to cause me to love you

does it mean that you INSIST
upon doing nothing
while at the same time
INSISTING that I do for you

make so many sacrifices
on your behalf
for no reward
already given
or to await

ii.
D’Anthra admitted
on the phone just now
that she does nothing
and has done nothing
to cause me to love her as I do

on the other hand though
she does certainly require
demand, expect a lot of me
because of my love for her

she is certainly utilizing it to the max
getting from it
every advantage she can get

and giving and is prepared to give
not a fucking thing back

she should be ashamed therefore
to admit contributing
and to having contributed nothing

this is to admit that she requires much
and gives nothing back
that she desires and is prepared
to give nothing back

if she gives and will give nothing,
similarly, shouldn’t she require nothing

are her requirements though
are they not therefore, something
that she gives if nothing else

is even that
not something that she gives BACK

is this too fine
or too negative a point of contribution
for her to recognize

is what she does give,
too fine for her to put into language,
to put into words

already you know she has a LAZY mind
too lazy even, most of the time
to bother to be polite,
to bother to be gracious

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 4:55 p.m. and 6:11 p.m.
on Saturday, March 5, 2011

2011-03-06T00:37:00.004-05:00

Jack-in-the-box
for D.B.A.

it is the same complaint you see
stuff I’ve stated well before
more than once before

wake up with this poem
with its perfect lines
going on, going round in my head
repeated and repeated

order of its lines,
alternating in my head
is one thing, one state, one place

lying awake, dreaming
well rested or somewhat

attached to pen though
pen attached to paper
to notebook page

though the ink on the page
is like a vehicle's rubber tires
attached to a tarred road,
as it passes, as it crosses

the pen, its ball point, rises and falls
bounces and skips
like a stone across water
like a ball, like a heart beats
up and down, hopping

clown at a circus, hopping,
on one foot and then on the other
audience to entertain

the heart beats, blood flows
clock ticks and time flows

Hemingway, upon the battle field,
injured, bleeding, dying,

blood flowing from him along with life
he said was like a silk handkerchief
being pulled out of a breast pocket

she puts me, pushes me
places me beneath her boyfriends
like jack-in-the box
whether I fit or not

forces me to fit where I do not fit
where I do not belong

in a tin with a lid
but I keep popping out
with the noises I make
with all my protestations

in response to her
inappropriate treatment

mistreatment, payment
for doing what a man does
what a man can

wanting what a man wants
needing what a man needs

I get less than what boys get
wonder what they do get
what they are allowed
that I am not

I am hardly allowed air
bread and water
a prisoner is allowed
she is reluctant to give
reluctant to serve me
reluctant to save me

love-stricken, love struck
in love stuck, with her stuck
but she can just watch me die
like Gabriel García Márquez’
old man with enormous wings

similarly treated
similarly assumed to be
from heaven fallen
or from hell, catapulted up

she does not seem to think
I need loving, required of her

the order of love I give
I shower her with

I am a fire
she needs shove no wood in
add no fuel to

throws whatever on it, wet rag
wet leaves

what does she care
if this love lives or dies

important though that its flames
do not leap higher than those
of affairs of boyfriends

man mixed up in
small children’s concerns
in the dolly house
or dolly houses
of love

how am I to fit in
relegated to what
she relegates me to

can she stuffs me in
I without end pop out
poems like fire works
without end going off
unable to help exploding
complaining, being angry

heaven, fix this
you, who else,
has me in such a fix
in such a flux
in such a fit
in such an outfit

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
1:40 p.m. 05.03.11

2011-03-06T00:31:00.001-05:00

Ink Pen Drawn
for Jackson & Pam & D.B.A.

1.
people who smoke marijuana
are not in their right minds
they’re in their left minds
in what’s left of their minds
they’re in the wrong frame
in the wrong state of mind

2.
always in a hurry when she comes by
time enough only to squeeze out
what she needs- wants- has to squeeze out
and out she pulls and off she goes

3.
thought he shied away from erotica
from getting his face and hands
and paint brushes in it

but he can draw breasts as well
and as readily as some these days
are able to draw blood

hairy Suzie of this model is as well
included here

4.
always trying to reframe us or me
our love or love
as if she knew anything at all
about framing
as if she or anyone
were able to frame
or tame a hurricane

5.
always pulling away from me
but she is always with me
never apart from me

how though can she be
as tied as we are by lines of her poetry
or my many poems of her

more poems I write of her
pull her nearer and nearer to me
or do they provide
a longer and a longer rope
for her to dangle off, stray away

we’ve begun to fight physically
or to play rough
she’s tough, you see, or tries to be

paradox of our closeness
and our distance apart
thought of which got my note book out
my ink pen drawn, caused tears to gather
me to well up and to holler also, in alto

though at once
too bitter and too sweet to bear
as much as I suffer, as uncertain as this is
some friend recently told me,
“You are lucky to be in love,”
said she envies me my situation

I am like a boat upon waves
merciful and merciless

though I might sing,
I have no say

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written on Friday,
between 4:33 p.m. and 5:45 p.m.,
March 4, 2011