douglas brent smith

 Make Waves - collage by douglas brent smith, 19890601 Oddities Unexplained: This collage, created June 1, 1989, appears on page 249 (with the back-side of the page simply the title) of journal #25. Communication, and the following poem, "Waves" was written on June 30, 1990 (more than a year later) and appears on page 251 of the same journal. I think how something like that happens is that there was a time when I created collages in my journals deep within the pages, long before the journal writing caught up. Plus, this particular journal took longer than usual to write. Does it matter? Not much. But, there you have it. Here's the poem: Waves everything on the surface develops a skin of its own unexamined, unrevealed, unkissed by the sun and then something falls with the  unrelenting force of gravity and breaks that surface bearing a new moment which  makes waves ohmyohmyohmyohmyohmy holycowholycowholycowholycow... but then the waves dissipate and the skin of the surface

 Your Face, sketch by douglas brent smith, 1983

i said to you our shoes in the sand your hand in my hand in a trance of truth i said to you my best inner secrets as the sun set and a light breeze caught your brown hair remarkable i said to you touching your cheek with care like a leaf whispering what i should have said years ago there is love that may be delayed but not denied true then, true on that beach. true still. -- douglas brent smith

the left hand starts a bass line avoiding familiar notes, for accidentals the right hand takes a ride let me sing of your changes (andante) swell...swell...who can tell? let me glissando your joys (forte!) and then mid-transposition the two of us harmonize and bring all the mystery down to size,  -- douglas brent smith

white cloud blue sky sudden darkness odor from a distant unknown source bitter tasting, no permission chemicals drifted in a virgin course like a losing hand played to a devil's trick for no reason half the town is sick a stranger talking in a legal voice bottled water is the only choice dark days dry from a ruined well twenty square miles of obnoxious smell poison water makes a person think tainted life line not a drop to drink.  -- douglas brent smith

i found you before life left any dents before the form found flaws and with open wonderment alive and ready for more you found me ready for new forms fresh foundation sparks! light! early morning smiles receiving all the giving and living ready for more every past piece of effort faded as we created this new kind of kiss tighter and sweeter and slightly awkward youthfully extending our freely found arms around gladness hey you hey you we found each other ready for each other and did not let go. -- douglas brent smith

  i am not anonymous i am not a number you can push around so get off my back! do not pigeon-hole me or patronize me or i'll come unglued not the common man i get uncommon as often as i can so stop measuring me reassuringly i am not anonymous i am not a number you can push around so get off my back! -- douglas brent smith

he was cute and younger than me but not illegally younger and wearing a tight orange and purple  shirt that had written across the chest "are you gay?" and he smiled and i thought "isn't everyone?"  -- douglas brent smith

  i saw it coming and started running but it never seemed to stop it flashed like a light in the middle of the night and exploded with a loud piercing pop the morning hit me and my shirt didn't fit me and beer cans were bent at my feet i walked to the kitchen someone started bitchin' and led me back to the street cars were passing and hustlers were hassling every new face that strolled by i jumped to the street dodging the heat while my feet did their best to fly like a circus clown in a strange dark town i reached for your number and phoned come save me from this with a smile and a kiss it's too much to face all alone you balked and you stalled and said why did you call? you need to find someplace to stay the high that sustained us was destined to fall and the feelings have all flown away. -- douglas brent smith

  she shared some details of the road trip with the teen in a van not too many intense infraction type details it was fill in the blanks with too much thinking heart wrenching imagination like why would two people in a van driving together sharing inside secrets and cheap road food not be more than she said playing a players game of silence and selective facts believable whether deceivable  or not who could know she met a native american guide entering the great grand canyon already ahead of her hiking below the entertainer chevy chase working up his best sweat "losing weight for a part," he told her he seemed nice she told me she, so sun tanned deeply in pain followed the guide's instructions scaling the canyon, seeking and finding her peace on her own in shorts and a shirt a weight loss plan of her own for that burn in her heart immune from her lotions medicines and potions yet falling away as she scaled deeper to release the one-hundred-and-ninety pounds of disappointm

  when the motion slips into another space explanations defy attempts to reconcile part of the magic lives in everything      that's ever been      and ever is like a wave all of our days are part of something more complex than we can see so the part of you in me and me in you goes on some of the energy conserved in all      that's ever drawn      from breath lives on -- douglas brent smith

  movements                    from a stranger blackouts from the center of the soul childlike prods                 to an undiscovered corner tripping, tipping                    into a hole movements                   as the stranger blackouts from the cage of ourselves liberating touches                 on the edge of frenzy seizing, freezing                  short of the goal where is the cutting edge? one of us is bleeding. -- douglas brent smith

something's unclear and i fear it's true who live here? is it me or you? -- douglas brent smith from "One of One: 143 Poems"

any other night flecked with flashes small surprises notes bouncing: balloons circus light swoons balloons off the wall pop pop squeak and pop balls (mostly  red) sticking to you companions in your dance floating into the hundred watt bulb and bursting pop! pieces fall at your feet flightless balloons.  --------- NOTES: Andy Laties and his sister, during his Child's Play days My friend Andy Laties, author, bookseller, and musician extraordinaire, when he performed with me in Child's Play had an interesting practice of carrying black balloons in his pocket. He said that they were weather balloons because black is easier to see in the sky.  Andy carried these balloons and would randomly offer one to someone he'd just met. He'd pull it from his pocket, inflate it fast (a wind-instrument musician he has excellent breath control) and hand it to the stranger who would now be his friend. No conditions and no expectations, just a free black balloon. Charming. That has nothing t

pouring out along the edge squandered supplies piled used and high gaping pits spent expectations lost looming loops of pride booming need, aside one generation's dream passed to the next dented bent unrelenting doom brittle cellophane crisply cold outside molded within contents spoiled one way of living shot full of holes an empty sieve while the work flows thru turns bleeding weeping slow burns.  

  Say What You Feel -- mixed media by douglas brent smith

  Man on TV -- sketch and poem by douglas brent smith

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.  

  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

  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