there at last

brick by brick the

hard high wall around me

began to fall

with music so soft

only intimate ears

could hear

when with that wonderful

tenderness so overflowing in you

you touched my aching

concrete cynicism

and kissed my world weary

mind into dreams

of singing

laughs of growing

and joys

of being alive

like each bare brick

of that wall

you slowly, oh so

carefully dismounted the doubts

freed the fears

and with quiet little steps

entered my heart

in a halo of rebirth

revealing that

there were once two loves in my

crowded carefully plotted

closed-hearted life:

my rusted roaming van and my

faithful guitar and

now

as sunrise welcomes Spring as

living brings new growth

i joyfully see

three.

-- douglas brent smith

 

openers

universal bang it was a universal bang

it was a universal bang it was

a big bang

got to thinking about the nature of existance

and with a certain degree of persistence

i proceeded to untangle all the angles

that approach us

from the cosmic cloud encroaching us

all leading to the theory

that a weary sort of human

needs awakening acumen

to make sense of any reasoning

and weather all the seasoning

that's bound to blow right thru you

no matter what you do you

come up a little short and then

it slips right thru your hands again

it hasn't changed much to the aliens

deciding if we're enemies or friends

still hoping that we finally get the joke

universal bank it was a universal bang

it was a universal bang it was

a big bang.

douglas brent smith

Note:

from journal #10, cry Wolf (1977)

touching

we settle slowly into silence

softly pouring the drops of recognition

into each other's eyes

with all the warmth we can hold

stirring in our collective heart

with a dream we had searched for passion

open arms, seeking understanding

wide eyes brilliant vision

of a sharing so full it would flow

and with delight announce its discovery

you touching me touching you.

douglas brent smith

 

counting her cards

there's a spot on her cheek

an ash perhaps

a mere smudge she's not aware of

we all see it so

quietly, i tell her

turning suddenly she wipes it clean

erasing any embarrtassment

and returns to the task at hand

counting her cards

circles below our eyes

declare that morning is near

as the factory waits tomorrow

day shift of all days and

we can't call out again or

we'll be let go for good

the lights fade as the sun rises

warning about duties as

it shows the disheveled house

i stretch out on the floor wondering

what it could be like to share her bed

i hear her turn off the water and

close her door

a pronounced decisive click

birds welcome morning

i blow out the last candle as

the house grows quiet with

Bob on the couch and

Dave in the recliner and

me on the floor and

my love in her bed

i second guess her thoughts as

i hear her shuffle

counting her cards.

douglas brent smith

inseparable

with bold looks we

invented invisible affairs

unspoken yet more obvious

as each melody played and 

each game unfurled

dare we touch? or

would that break the spell?

transcending normal expectations

for a time

any arrangement anything was possible

like a floating shimmery bubble

fragile then

gone.

douglas brent smith

 

impermanence

if i should doubt

by cycles or by cynics

the tones which you deliver

or cause by asking over

a few absurdist questions

please know by all that matters

and by all that ever stands

i want so much for lastingness

that i faulter as a man

if you should see

by vision or submission

a hidden part of me

or realize that in my eyes

exists a bit of scandal

please observe all perspectives

and by all you understand

i try so much for lastingness

that i stumble as a man

douglas brent smith

 

her little breaths

her little breaths outnumber mine

her sleep seems far more sound

our areas indistinctly marked

are shared like common ground

the graceful moves of daylight hours

give in to those of evening

the beauty seems to be, we know

that neither soon is leaving

her little breaths outnumber mine

i count them all, each one divine.

douglas brent smith

 

Miniature

 i became aware of

the poetry of existance

     and of the artistry of

     her voice

     of her thin, gentle fingers and

     the honesty of her eyes

1973

Give Me Your Brain

Note: I once wrote a play called "The Great Brain Robbery." This poem is from that period of time, in 1973, when I thought some things were much funnier than I do now. And, the basic premise of the play, that we are unconsciously surrendering our brains, still holds up.

Give Me Your Brain

you're certainly a silly one

afraid to give a brain

the whole world's grabbing for it

release it while you're sane

we need a brain like yours to use

in service to our cause

it won't help you once you're crazy

filled with riddles and with flaws

you're no Einstein nor a Curie

just a normal filled with fury

you're no Jesus why not please us

give that brain away

such a silly greedy one

clutching to your head

all your brain cells added up

won't matter when you're dead

give me your brain

it's not so much

a sibling cerebral skunk crutch

let it go now in this exchange

give me oh give me hey give me your brain