godseye
—Poems and Photos by Smith, Cleveland, OH
BIRDWORM
Down and basic
bird wants to eat live worm
worm wants to eat dead bird
ebb and flow
eat and go
gone before you're done
down the throat
through the gut
becoming one with one
Red Tailed Hawk
BIRD BITS
Wake 4:30 every morn
to the sound of music
the programmed A.I. turns on
because wife is Star Trek weird
and thinks this is the way of would.
Get up, pop two Tylenol
give wife her morning pills
whack the cat with the cloth carrot
she loves as she claws the couch
and purrs.
Drink coffee wife made
feed fish
and go out every morning at 7
whatever weather
to feed the little dinosaurs
waiting in the trees.
If it gets below 15 degrees
we feed them twice
cuz life is hard.
The flying dinosaurs
often thank us with song
multitudes of movement
and flashes of red and blue
amidst swallow brown.
And I check for signs of our wild turkey hen
her tracks in the snow
her roosting on our car roof out back
or lately sitting on the front porch
watching the bird feeder.
Recently saw her eating the seed
I pour on the ground
and said "Well hello, good to see you"
she looked at me and went
"Chirrup, chirrup"
which I heard as thank you.
She's been around since August,
chased up from the industrial Flats
by bike path construction.
Last summer she had a hawk companion
who folk thought was hunting her
but I don't think so...
he never attacked,
just stayed nearby, stared.
We three were on the sidewalk out front
by busy West 14th Street
with the turkey 8 feet from me
at one angle
the hawk on the fence 8 feet away
at another angle
hawk and turkey 8 feet apart
at a third
watching each other.
Turkey started into the street traffic
and hawk flew up and chased her back
to the sidewalk
twice.
Later looked out back window
and saw her eating a pigeon
the hawk had caught and decapitated
and dropped for her.
Strange that a pigeon I'd fed
had been killed and fed
to a turkey I fed.
I think he was in love with her.
6 months later hawk's gone
turkey remains
and the little flying dinosaurs
still chirp from the trees
waiting for me
to fill their feeder with seed.
We all bleed in need.
Starrise
Black ice, white ice
color don't matter
just balance
Back of night
requires bone of day
to dream
Brightnight
WAIL SONGS
A trio of wails
—cop siren
—ambulance siren
—fire engine squawk
trail near in night
an angry need and heed of haste
in horror of going there
the horror there
and horror coming back
yet maybe later will be better
who's to judge?
not me
Siren sounds could be
TV, movie, outside under tree
all three
or none
who's to judge?
not me
Someone's broken
some place in flame
blood is token
pain remains aim
in this whale of a wailing game
who's to judge?
not me
I can't live your life
you wouldn't want mine
this whole kit's gone caboodle
we're all dying on the vine
can't stop the avalanche
nor budge current's grudge
but who's to judge?
not me
My Inner Clown
NORTHCOAST WINTER
Driving Cleveland grey
around Dead Man's Curve
in old old cold
the windshield blurs
so I give it a couple sprinkles
and hit the wipers
and vision smears gone
in freeze
Sometimes you do do right
still get done wrong
This Section Closed
Sitting in pre-dawn diner
staring at the SECTION CLOSED sign
hoping I'm on the right side
Redeyez
LADY FROM THE WOULD
A lot of life
there's what I want
and what I get
safe to say
they're seldom the same
but then there's what I didn't want—
a relationship
and what I got—a wife
with a whole nuther life
running around
behind old iron curtains
Marrakech
and Mexican nights
she makes interesting more so
banal cast away
as her surreal floor show holds sway
with camels
coffee mountains
and magic mushrooms if I may
she slipped from the Elf-Woods
stole cross my warning gate
to lick my wounds
and wait
now night is not as long
nor day as loud
in crowd or throng
we sing song
for my green-eyed Lady
lies golden on my mind
Sunburst
DINNER’S SERVED
I lie on my back
in the dead grass dried and wilted
looking for shapes
in the atomic clouds roiling overhead
There—a 3-pointed frog
slowly boiling in its own broth
Here—a cow giving curdled milk
to partial piglets, and Pooh
All around money torn from its treasure
burns slow, and alone
Flesh, formerly firm, flows unfixed
And there, right there
there's a radioactive cloud fish
swimming in the radioactive cloud sea
off the radioactive cloud Fukushima
Bon appetit
Fog-Eye Smith
Today’s LittleNip:
Wife asleep on couch
Cat asleep on wife
Me awake in wonder
—Smith
_____________________
A whopping’ big thank-you to the lively Smith (Steven B. Smith), who sends us his fine poems and artwork today on these Ides of March!
Today at noon, join writers at Cafe Bernardo, 234 D St., Davis, for Lunch w/Writers, Poets, and Literature & Language Instructors from 11:45am-1:15pm. Then stay in Davis exploring all day, and at 7:30pm attend The Other Voice (Brad Buchanan and Stuart Canton plus open mic) at the Unitarian Universalist Church on Patwin Rd., hosted by James Lee Jobe. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about these and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
—Medusa (Celebrate Poetry!)
Car Hood Turkey
—Photo by Smith
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
