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

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

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  

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

  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

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.