HeartSoar
—Poetry and Visuals by Smith (Steven B. Smith),
Cleveland, OH
New year
old sins
new stains
old sins
new stains
Dooidrasto
Who Who Who Whooo
how the flux do I know, owl
I'm only human
My knot
is I know not
what I know not
In this dance
of want and need
I pray for the prey
My ennui's not on you
Dreamlight
SLOW TALKIN’ BLUES
Yes I talk to myself, I answer too
chatter and answer two sides of one fool
I don't understand why I do what I do
Moon up high covers cold cold ground
cold orb up sky casts no warmth down
little light when absence abounds
Folk yak at me with words of no life
go flapping their id, make whole buncha strife
so I gotta ask why you spout such tripe?
You got a mouth even your mom won’t kiss
your crap smothers all kinds of bliss
why you muck around like this?
Gotta say things ain't quite right
too many stray in lack of light
yet say go way, tend my own blight
If I don’t talk won't be no sound
in this endless ambling nowhere town
but when I do they call me a clown
The devil’s tongue packs a wicked wit
while an angel's wings don’t always fit
some further heaven, some feather pit
Which I am I in this tag of it?
stain on shoe, or pile of shit?
Earthorbit
As above, soil below
where the moist sins of night
hover in dark light
Zero
I'm about 4 papers short of a joint
with a pound of oregano on hand
a bleeding heart gone bland
on a path with no point
dreaming of a black hash bash
opiated to anoint
the brash
Bright Light, Dead City
I'd be going the wrong way
if this were a path
alas
_______________
Coming, going
crawling the mundane
looking for clues
_______________
She sez
life is "aches and bacon"
and mouth traps, I reply
One Man’s Meat
IN TUITION
I been Christian, athiest, agnostic, Buddhist,
animist most
(though never communist)
and through it all been blessed,
yet see for most it's Mao or less a mess,
never what's right or best,
just how to bring in more by giving less.
So all you takers, sharers, givers, stone-hearted killers,
willers, millers, shillers, fakers, shakers, sackers,
rackers, shrivers, markers, breakers, caretakers,
slave failures, pokers, prodders, ponderers, perusers,
pricks, pushers, pullers, uppers, downers, clowners,
inners and outers,
you know how cleaning up your act always starts tomorrow?
well tomorrow is today,
today is the new tomorrow,
clean-up starts today
(tomorrow)
or there's going to be sorrow to borrow at bay.
Climate Change
Today’s LittleNip:
Skunk in grass
low profile
going fast
—Smith
Future Focus
_______________________
Smith is in the house today, steaming up the Kitchen with fine poetry and electric photos. Many thanks to him for his monthly sojourn, taking us into worlds unknown for quick hits and tasty, saucy words.
Third Thursdays at the Library’s monthly read-around on Zoom takes place at noon today (for info, write to Amanda Jacobs at amanda.b.jacobs@gmail.com/). Also today, the first session of the new writing workshop in Cameron Park, Writing Our Words, will be facilitated by El Dorado County Poet Laureate Lara Gularte, 5:30pm. PLUS—the new reading series at The Classy Hippie Tea Co. in Sacramento will feature the Straight Out Scribes, 7pm! Also at 7pm, Poetry Night Reading Series in Davis features Robert Thomas and Beverly Burch, plus open mic, 7pm. And, as always, Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe in Sacramento starts at 8pm. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about all these as well as 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.
An update on last Monday's post: Davis Poet Katy Brown's surgery yesterday went fine, according to her daughter, Miranda. Good news!
__________________
—Medusa
We’re All Mad Here
—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!
