Trodding the Treads Ahead

 —Poetry and Visuals By Smith, Cleveland, OH

 

 

No light in sky
small spark in me
another day of chasing why
cuz life is never free

I trod the treads ahead
carry past on back
no idea what to spend
getting back on track

Every day is starting over
every day is just the same
every day is 4-leaf clover
every day is blame

Is it all a game?

Don't make no difference
what they say
still gotta play

But what the hey

 

 

 

 Bombom

Got my rage on
read the news
amped my inner anger with coffee
mellowed that a bit with weed
so sun's coming up
and I'm wound
with nowhere to go
and I ain't going slow, Moe
ain't going slow
but I'm going
I'm going to be a better person
someday
going to raise rationality
someday
lower nationality
someway
and actually
I lie
won't even try
gonna keep stumblebumbling why
crashing through the course
raising rants and crying curse
and worse
ain't gonna close my eyes
in possum try
will crawl on through the hurt
and work
to help move more mellow plan
be more in the am
junking my jerk
losing smirk
irk

lot of murk

 

 

 

 Alarm Will Sound

Sum folk know
ain't safe place
here there down the line

What is is
small pockets of plus
in large plops of puss

That makes us
tummy thumper or flesh filler
grab 'n snatch down the hatch

So much gloom
in poem and room
bill coming due after

But earth goes on
some stay some gone
me? I offer Gods laughter

And they slow soften
my slaughter

 

 

 

 Nope

You can pause
but you can't stop
sharks know this

Flounder abounder
flubber a'do
I can run much slower than you

Things may be happening
we may be here
I'm not entirely clear

Until resolution
you can keep your absolution
continuing is my only solution

Keep up hope
maybe smoke some rope
dance about in the Holy Smoke

 

 

 

 Treasure

I watch the cat clean herself
in my black denim lap
red tongue licking black fur
green eyes glowing in dusk
she's at one
in the now
no fear
no hunger
no shame
in love
of love
with love

were I her
and also me
sitting petting myself
safe in my own lap
purring mine to me
ahhhh, that'd be something
me liking me
me licking me
clean
finally
inside and out

 

 

 

 Inkpen

I been thinking
and it seems to me
"Be here now"
must be a typo

Sposed to be
'Be here. Know'

I know
seem similar
but 'you in now'
don't mean 'you know'
while in the know
includes the now
somehow

Know now be here
beware false there

I find that fair

 

 

 

3some

If mirror life looked into their mirror
would we be what they see?

"Scientists Say Mirror Bacteria
Should Not Be Created'"

it doesn't end, does it?

friend sez
"we're rollin down hill
and pickin up speed"

heck
can't even say
that was yesterday
and yesterday's gone
cuz the future's waving at us
in the rearview mirror

they talkin'
o boy they talkin
talkin
growing mini-brains with eyes
time crystals in quantum computers
reviving 24,000 yr-old permafrost zombies
making mutant daddy shortlegs
reversing age
talking zero with crows
bringing back wooly mammoths
seeding the sky to scare the sun
bleeding sea for electricity
freeze drying the arctic
ignoring the scars
fleeing to Mars

putting Liberty behind bars

gonna ban the tran, be The Man
what a bloodsucking end
from small-handed men

a bit disappointing, my friend

 

 

 

 Supple

Lilac dawn gone
I made it through the day

night cushions me
from reality

soon sleep
re-ravel sleeve of care

adding up my brownie points
and used-Camelots

subtracting shudda-beens
from Karma plots

leaves me somewhere twixt
shoe and leather

maybe okay
maybe bad whether

but who am I to judge?

 

 

 

 Art Crimes 8

Today’s LittleNip:

O woe is man, for I am omen
"Sounds like Shakespeare"
No, just me in shaky peer down history

—Smith

____________________

—Medusa, with get-well-soons to Smith (Steven B. Smith), who took a nasty fall (face-plant, as he calls it) last week and messed up his face, as you can see on his Facebook page. Turns out he also has a damaged disc in his neck, most likely from lifting his dying dog for a trip to the vet. Ouch. Not fun. Not fun at all. For now, though, his bruised and battered body is on the road to healing. Send him good wishes!

 

NorCal residents will be sorry to hear that Sacramento Poetry Center Volunteer Alexander Antonio Cortez passed away suddenly yesterday. Rest easy, Alexander.

 

 

 

 Flowgo
—Photo by Smith

 

 

 

 

 

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Ouch!