Music Above - sketch by douglas brent smith
For a Little While
For a little while, I lived in Oak Lawn, IL. This picture is probably from right after I moved in. I had a small room with a single bed, a black and white TV that relied on its built-in antenna for coverage, a Fender Vibrosonic amplifier (one powerful 15 inch speaker), a borrowed Fender Telecaster, and for some reason a cat carrier. Oh, and a top hat. Not much else.
Wonderful things happened in the short six months that I lived in the Chicago area for the first time. Weird things, too.
Wait -- this could not have been right after I moved in because I painted that painting on the wall in that condo. That painting no longer exists (as far as I know) because I do not have it.
Memories.
-- douglas brent smith
Analog Stereo Here We Go
Analog Stereo Here We Go - collage by douglas brent smith, from the journal Cutups, 1979
sold
selling out selling out
selling out is so much fun
you look at me and whisper
you look at her and run
look into the mirror
and tell me who's the one
selling out selling out
selling out is so much fun
you say all those decisions
are driving you insane
you've got a first level problem
and a third rate brain
selling out selling out
selling out is so much fun
the dollar signs are shining
right before your eyes
reach into the money bag
and pull out a surprise
selling out selling out
selling out is so much fun.
waiting
converging urges pull power
plays pull lost switches pull
shades thru the blades
hanging pendulously; sharp edges
dulled
fast focus
slowed
merging dervishes sing in the distance
youth grabs a number and
waits in line.
-- douglas brent smith
the nowhere machine strikes gold
a mask or so ago
we felt the river flow
an endless rippling wave
eternal moments saved
within its ceaseless motion
the river meets the ocean
absorbed in all its glory
it learns another story
of larger issues when
the flowing never ends
a cycle set for spinning
eternally and winning
loud and rich and bold
producing newfound gold
a nudge a mighty mod
of prayer offered to God
(listen. when the answer
comes let's be ready
to write down exactly
what we hear...)
-- douglas brent smith
the point on the edge that turns
when it isn't enough to be weird
when it isn't enough to be funny
reality gathering speed
pleads for shelter and just enough money
when the middle class values scream what!
ever happened to all that we've got?
the air in the chamber starts moving
in sounds that the masses can hear
so the forces of wealth weave and hide
oblivious to working day pride
until with a shock wave a change
the power is all re-arranged
don't grab it or stab it, remain
the journey discovering new plains
the mountains are there for the climbing
and the essence is all in the timing.
-- douglas brent smith
with the flow
in form not constant
higher planes
people versus civilization
drains
knowledge so much
wasted rain
seeping with the tide away
in visage not former
outer ken
struggles heaped on burdens when
awareness
flashes now and then
ghostlike disappearing
end.
-- douglas brent smith
locker room
are you looking for secrets?
shortcuts and delight?
perhaps someone's questions
whose answers are right?
is the sport in the victory
but not in defeat?
or does struggle with strength
in itself seem complete?
when the game hits conclusion
and one side has won
does your playing with passion
surrender to fun?
let's gather again
when the tournament ends.
-- douglas brent smith
clown show
do you think the hoops'll play?
no, we'd better go with fire
they just eat it up when i swallow
the flame bit
but it's too windy we might
set each other on fire (how's that
for a big finish?) no,
the balls, we'll do the juggling steals
maybe some magic (slight of
hand) hey!
did you bring the accordion?
the guitars will never carry in this wind
and yes it's cold but
we're down to our last dollar and
Quick! here comes some kids
put on the big red shoes
we are on!
-- douglas brent smith
NOTES:
- When Peter and I did these types of shows (not sure if this one was sponsored or if we were busking) our hair (yes, we once had hair!) was so long that catching on fire was a legitimate concern. At times, we could smell hair burning.
- The hoops that we used were hand-made by Peter and covered in cloth tape. They were not completely round.
- If we had more money in our pockets then maybe we could have put fresh strings on our guitars so that they would resonate louder, even in the wind.
over cards
there must have been three
or four reasons why
the cards in your hand shook
waiting on the meld
smoke swirling around your lip
(swollen from the mouthpiece
of a stubborn trumpet) sky writing
secret indecipherable signals
playing your hand against your partner's
lack of bullets
"nothing but clothes" you said
a handful of jacks and queens
powerless in the endgame of tricks
but that's not what you were
thinking of i could tell
with the gin nearly empty
and the ashtray full of roaches
some sweet lucid larceny was taking place
and for a moment eyes meeting eyes
you pick-pocketed a parcel of
unsung refrains from within me
and never cracked a smile.
-- douglas brent smith
Go Deeper
Being absolutely sure of something means I've only explored one side.
No only is our individual perspective imperfect, it is also incomplete.
Go deeper -- that's where the treasure lives.
-- doug smith
ocean walk
the cold wind blew uncut
as ocean waves kicked stone gray jetties
large gaping cracks between the rocks
long suggestive pauses in our dialogue
steps away a homasote haunted castle
beyond a secret mist two blocks
in the distance a single
block between what we said and
what pooled below the surface
moist light beach sand crisp night air
a buoy on the horizon this is your turf
your haunting ground the smells salt sweet
gulls and mussels and popcorn blended
inseparable from that late summer visit
our individual yet tethered travels
returning each of us again to us
in our own ocean so deep we may not swim
beyond the mystery
of the tingling unhinging phrases unstrung
broken guitar strings a chipped boardwalk
recollection
stunning afternoon thru evening tones
incidental sublimations consequential
quirks of fate probing endless questions
colored by scattered sighs barely audible
experience unsaid unconsummated ties
that clouds cover us and the moon
that night one of our full moons
stalking us the jangle of atlantic city
fading in the distance
your tales of dancing on the steel pier
hints, whispered non-sequiturs, double entendres
glimpses ? wishes ? desires ?
a circle of sand around your blanket
endless conversation smoke inside
my eyes around your eyes
(should we touch) (should we try ? )
we did not and
wondered why...
-- douglas brent smith
intermittant
there were chance meetings
distributed miles and months
touching us taunting us
locking us into a long
tight wire of vibrating nuance
you knew this, and kept on dancing
i knew this, and...what? what
did it mean? how would it turn?
oh how we would yearn...oh
how we would learn.
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