Dreamseeker

 

 Dreamseeker
—Poetry and Visuals by Smith, Cleveland, OH

 

 

Sometimes it's simple
down to basics
laundry's started
the front yard's next
but right now
I sit quiet in sun
sip coffee
toke
close eyes
raise face
accept solar kiss
its peach-red-orange-cream glow
gleaming through lids
bringing me back to when I was 4
and felt safe
warm in parental love
before tooth and claw and teeth
and glove
in the dark of duty

 

 

 

 Onwhor

You can't know till you been
no matter who what where why or when
ain't never nowhere no how
however hard you plow

I'm a low life in low light
I like it that way
coming up poor
I seen more
everyday

I want to talk the long story

"Civilization, it was a nice run."
she says glum
stuck in highway hell
awaiting tow trucks, police,
ambulances
our weekly morning breakfast out

She drives magic
rides right flow glow
in gone wrong

I ride along

Pennies from Heaven hurt
when they hit you on the head
so don't be a Karen, Charon
give us a free ride
cross Jordan

You can take the beast
out of the field
but you can't take the beast
out of the beast
sometimes I don't no
simply means I don't know
while yes is pure guess
there'll be a sign
telling where you are
if you don't see it
you've gone too far
tick tick tock tock
hope we go round the block
past past replies
to today's lie

Do butterflies remember caterpillar?
Can caterpillar conceive of butterfly?

You know I'm never wrong
riiiiiight?

 

 

 

 Last Election

This little wiggly went to market
this little wiggly stayed home
this little wiggly seems stuck to your foot
let's get us a knife and cut to the bone

In in-know-sense of little children
and their dark demanding tones
lies tonic for the tome

Fare tale fairly told
behold our young in old

If I may bleed so bold

 

 

 

 Along the Way

Another waiting room
another waiting to see how bad
bad is

Older up and down the ladder
loading Entropy's train
I'm decay, detritus

But it's all good
is amazing
I'm still aging

Good genes
good luck
and the Gods loving fools

 

 

 

 Guilt

It's not the tail of the monkey
that bites and claws
but it is a stinky propositions

Outside tribal fire
it's dark
less spark

Burn with the bitten
swoon with the smitten
I add my own arc

Knew a donkey once
carried his carrot to Buddha
went back to the fold

 

 

 

 Way Wrong

Grant us slack o great "Bob"
turn up the dial but keep it quiet
on the Q.T. with the cutie
cue our current crumbs
in dance to chance
though unsure how it's done
but question flux
and fluff
of course remorse
but that's enough for now
kiss my Kismet
forget

So, Moe how flow
hero or heroin
what's the better born
manor or manger
tell me
o great mind manager
mime my am
for as I see
the valley of investment
invokes the belly of belief

Running the rapids
but there ain't no water
fixing to fight but it’s all foe

Hey Joe
why woe go
rain falls
spirit rises
hopes spring
death comes
flesh goes
shade shaped by made

It's the moist along the way
that makes the after matter

 

 

 

 Cell Division

I cling to my coffee
wait for the sun
ego not yet in on run
clinging and waiting and coffee
are one
me being being been
keen to ken gleaning glen

If you ask me
and nobody does
this is less land of the free
than home of the fuzz

We worship empty boxes
tiny microphobes
in little bathrobes
we bow knee
and bend principle
swallow shame
wallowing in same
is that the want we want
dissent went

Hard and slow no matter go

You spose the Captain knows
his lies are leaking

Or queries why my high ramble

 

 

 

 Line Item

Don't know a lot

If day, keep moving
if night, lay down

Or is it other way around?

Sun out now
brightens everything
shows the dead in the road

Not much to do
except joke
and toke
awake awoke

Got good haze around my rage
wrapped in disappointment
at new see of what we be
seems beast eat beast at best
but what the heck
lizard brain hungry
lizard brain always hungry
is fed
in our lizard licking heads
where fly is foe
food
or fled

Existence went from zero
to billions per second
in nothing flat
pure mettle on the pedal
pretty petal prose
everybody no's

Stochastic isolation

Well my friend it ain't the end
but it's getting there

 

 

 

 Miracle

Today’s LittleNip:

As you wish I wish I was
both the doing and the duzz

Speedup and scurry
or lay low and worry

Endless soiree

—smith

_____________________

Our thanks to Smith today—that’s Steven B. Smith—for his fine tokes of poetry as he continues to move along through the days, seeing what’s right with the world, and what’s wrong with it. Keep on comin’ at us, Steven B.!—Nine years visiting the Kitchen, and counting…

And best, most hopeful wishes to all of us for today, Juneteenth 2025~

_____________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

 Afterhours
—Visual by Smith

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A reminder that
Poetry Night in Davis
is taking a summer break
and will not meet tonight.
For info about this and other
future poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
 during the week.

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.

Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.

Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)

Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
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!