douglas brent smith

 that childhood past doesn't end just because you get bigger you keep a little little version of yourself right there just under your skin                                   (still so sensitive                                     still so fragile) so that you either nurture your own little  little. version of  yourself or it smacks you when you least expect it.                                   (over and                                     over again) 14 November 1996

there are times when our imaginations    paint pictures better than sunsets    play chords more stirring    than violin strings    times when hearts beat faster    sounding panic stilled by its own clock alarming signals ringing clipped wings singular embarrassing  defining a new way of being one such time i was prepared for the best of    advancing, making progress      to reach you it             would go so well                you'd be able to tell                    how i feel and                        you would see the magic in my tricks the longing in my voice the muse for your amusement in that alter place of hyper-reality: high school and none of the rumors had    helped my cause, noe of the phone calls brou...

is it any wonder our      thoughts stack      over-lapping on      top of one another      some vast library caught in      an earthquake of                                 dreaming      out of order when      was the last time you      were truly alone?                 25 July 1988       

part of this nutritious breakfast: a quiet time an hour of thought  three sometimes four layers of cereal in the bowl (always the  same bowl and the one spoon) morning details to center the day a strong slender tower rising to face the resilient serial motions of standing tall a prayer before the first bite vitamin, juice, black coffee the soft gentle snoring of my son in the next room peaceful, still birds sing familiar tunes clapping this day this tree of living this world at five forty-five and the morning is alive with details. 29 March 1988 All the horses in collageland - collage by douglas brent smith

  Have you ever thrown anything away and then regretted it? Gone Box i filled a dumpster no i filled a dumpster two times and another dumpster, too i didn't have permission and they weren't my dumpsters but it was always at night and i wanted some things out of my life foolishly books. paintings. collages. tools. and one really big relationship deeper than any box gone a box filled with memories set afire. and no matter how much i dream i cannot retrieve that box. -- douglas brent smith

we three smiles    rolling on the floor    bounce around the room and then    smile some more         we three smiles    making up new games    dance around the table laughing    at our names        we three smiles    hug and tug and grin    praise the Lord for living in    the world we're in.        -- douglas brent smith, 10 March 1987 

the biggest smile           on the smallest face      warming our hearts      -- douglas brent smith 

scrambled dreams    scattered schemes    ideas flashed on the mezzanine    the balcony's crowded with narrow scenes    colorful dreaming liquid sleep        poached eggs dreams    wet and fried    homage to the dreams that died    rules that flutter    into melted butter    dreams design    their own red line    fried dreams my dreams    your dreams ours    evening slips and then devours    sheets around us    lights dimmed black    shadowed visions    on our backs    your dream is my dream is our dream complete.    

bizarre as you are    you know that it's true    not everyone caring    cares about you    bizarre as you wish    could you possibly be    like hair on a fish?    or gills on a tree?    how much of it's youth?    comparing the beauty    too tight yet too loose    impossible duty    bizarre as you are    absurd as can be    so highly abnormal    when done gracefully.    -- douglas brent smith  

we touch upon the wheel's edge  admiring and yearning for the endless turning we speak about the zen of when the hollow meets the solid road but space unending ends unanswered the endless questions of the snow change the motion of our plans touch me with your steady hands. -- douglas brent smith

what i really hate is waiting twelve minutes for the bus and watching someone who's only waited one minute squeeze onto the bus ahead of the rest of us what i also hate is being the sixth person in line when they open a new line and the seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth people get ahead of me small problems, yes still aggravating i guess like an endless trip a relentless drip stop! pause! stay here because: what i really love is knowing that i am loved and living in that love and with so much love what else matters? -- douglas brent smith 

the room changes they enter eyes turn heads turn new flows over flow a truly eccentric person looking perfectly normal now we rely on that until that ready - steady rock - solid presence presents change smiling at you: in on it lifting a secret door as we wonder how do they know? touching every single person in the room on the arm on the shoulder on the top of the head on the lips! opening the gates of possibility inevitably eccentric  

uncle grant -- can't can't chant pay now pay - for what we say uncle chuck - can't trust your luck tell us true - what do you do? what's the price? the thought is nice lift the lid? that's what we did sign right here - and here, and here grant three wishes - charity cheer freestyle lifestyle paid with tax scoop the art until it cracks uncle grant grant us one wish serve it up nonprofit dish we will write your favorite book paint your piece a proper look film the scene that lights you up fill the ever empty cup uncle grant let's find the spin show us how to cash it in. -- douglas brent smith  

 "Big Fat TV" collage by douglas brent smith. when you are  in a hurry and still want to get  there in good spirit be sure to dance & smell the flowers & pack lightly because you've got so much more to pick up put away light up serenade grow and know you're individual flow. NOTES: This is one of a series of collages I made using a good old fashioned copy machine, combined with some cut-out doodles and random pictures -- these apparently featuring transportation (and dance!) I added the poem after posting the collage. Now they belong together! ~ dbSm ~

  Exactly, More or Less - collage by douglas brent smith, 30 November 1991 she looked at me as if i knew what i was doing but she knew that i didn't and was not having  any of it making it all sideways slipped and slipping so i did my best to get her attention only achieving disapproval.

 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

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