Stress Level
—Poetry and Visuals by Smith, Cleveland, OH
THE ENTROPY EXPRESS
Thought I'd woulda coulda shoulda maybe
but then again I'm quite lazy
discipline somewhat hazy
plus there's those who claim I'm crazy
but heck with that let's stick with this
I'm one dark dread in search of bliss
a future nipple's gentle kiss
instead of cyclic shit and miss
I ask sky why but there's no answer
look inside find moral cancer
my id gazelle my ego panther
in my me a danger dancer
yet still I'm here not yet gone
not yet lost though sure ain't won
cuz in sadness I still find fun
with magic wife my always one
add in dog and shadow cat
friends most fine and this and that
sadness being but temporal trap
before my final one hand clap
so grab your ticket get in line
for Entropy Train's mighty crime
riding life's lying bind
of slings and errors outrageous, unkind
Thought I'd woulda coulda shoulda maybe
but then again I'm quite lazy
discipline somewhat hazy
plus there's those who claim I'm crazy
but heck with that let's stick with this
I'm one dark dread in search of bliss
a future nipple's gentle kiss
instead of cyclic shit and miss
I ask sky why but there's no answer
look inside find moral cancer
my id gazelle my ego panther
in my me a danger dancer
yet still I'm here not yet gone
not yet lost though sure ain't won
cuz in sadness I still find fun
with magic wife my always one
add in dog and shadow cat
friends most fine and this and that
sadness being but temporal trap
before my final one hand clap
so grab your ticket get in line
for Entropy Train's mighty crime
riding life's lying bind
of slings and errors outrageous, unkind
Dark Matter
The quiet night isn't quiet
water gurgles in pipes
aquarium bubbles
fireplace clicks as heat expands
black cat purrs in lap
coyotes howl to sirens on the bridge
one clock cuckoos one bongs one chimes
all three tick my life away
freight trains below pull heavy loads
down shadow tracks in dark valleys
going not here
from not here
long lonely moans in time
as entropy blossoms full flower
bloom blood in the circle slowing
Summer/Fall
Pain rise morning
walking in the asters
beneath the golden leaves
Every click of entropy
brings darker now
brighter then
Clocks a tickin' talkin' time
space oozing gravity's rhyme
Time’s Lies
Dark in here, fog out there
sez me in the living room
sez me in my mind
Any wisdom learned
leaked out long ago
I stand outside
flaunting my sins
hoping someone will notice
Fogville
Coffee down
weed in
awaiting sun
Train moans
body groans
mind stones
It's another
I don't want to do this
day
Born of Holocaust and atomic bomb
death fast death slow
between yes and no and maybe
This reality
and I
are not aligned
Blackops
O dead temples in the sky
hear us as we cry why
the lie
O Invisible Friend above
gentle the bite of karmic glove
and entropy's shove
O You who seldom answer
it's fall to winter falling
and I've yet to find my calling
Gimme a clue or let me through
Bait
There are whisperers close at hand
questioning this, doubting that
denying flesh and fact
We're pretty much raisins running backwards
to some plump plum once upon a time
seeds seedless sending
Now and then, before or after
doesn't matter
rock gotta roll up hill again
Rock gonna roll
pain gonna play
we gonna pay
And yet it's worth it for the while
when and where we smile
along the way
What can I say?
Red River
EX CHRISTMAS
I see Santa the red-nosed thing dear
dancing on the head of a pin
in some strip club down Lonely Lane
where never was already is
Unreined deer out in the alley
shooting crap with quantum dice
taking tokes of alfalfa doobies
awaiting a working deer's price
O sacred Santa, o holy Tinman
now I lay me down to seek
a higher focus in the real land
once we awaken from sleep
HEY—warning light flashing over head ! ! !
such goings bring Ghost Past Behind
this is your don't-want-to-be dread
beckoning being sorry, unkind
Grouch don't get no good foot forward
greed can't grasp no love at hand
mean won't lean no one toward
higher helping plan for grand
O sacred Santa, o holy Tinman
now I lay me down to seek
higher focus in the real land
once we awaken from our sleep
Less is more, more just more mess
relax, lay back, let go, seek slack
to give is true get of success
sharing shines in giving back
So let's sing a song of simple
then go feed a folk or few
gotta make our own example
be such be as want to do
Sacred Santa, Holy Tinman
watch how I lay me down to seek
higher focus in the real land
once we waken from our sleep
—Music by Peter Ball, word/voice by Smith, 2013 (https://www.reverbnation.com/mutantsmith/song/19374180-ex-christmas)
Line of Sight
Today’s LittleNip:
The pain of body
versus the promise of day
ever onward
—Smith (Steven B. Smith)
____________________
Our thanks to Steven Smith—who can always be counted on to bring a little entropy—for today’s words and music, complete with visuals and even a Christmas carol! Happy holidays and less pain to you, Steven, and to the lithe Lady and family pals Dog and Shadow Cat. May Santa and the Tin Man bring some solace and a higher focus in this fogville of ticking clocks we live in…
____________________
—Medusa, reminding you that tonight, Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe in Sacramento at 8pm features Sho’ Nuff plus open mic; and Beth Suter and Bethanie Humphreys will read at John Natsoulas Gallery in Davis, plus open mic, 7pm. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about these and other future poetry events in the NorCal area—and keep an eye on this link and on the Kitchen for happenings that might pop up during the week.
—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.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
