you're living (it's truly
amazing) i'm crazy
though windows to open
will never close doors
you're giving (i'm
living)
much more than before
together we wonder
while skies shall surrender
when life lends us love
the threes become fours
but what matters
above all
when people may choose
is magic in making
the ones become twos.
douglas brent smith
he smoked a pipe
that would make any author
drool with envy
which (by the way) need not be green
but it's also available in
red, blue, and occasionally paisley
although perhaps best
invisible.
douglas brent smith
Stars stream madly
across the frozen sky
sending drops of passion
into the pathways of
our wings
unmasked unfolded
we yearn
for the mystery
painted on the faces
of leaping lovers
of circus grips
and tunesmiths
sing, push, and pull
the lever
once pulled
overrides all the rules
the camera
once flashed
disappears with a crash
the secret
once known
leaves the lover alone.
douglas brent smith
Nothing spectacular, just a fish in space who has swallowed a space station and is apparently surrounded by black holes. Oh, and an orbiting top hat, too.
douglas brent smith
oh lovely lady locked
into real world rollers
with past tense terrors
run off with me
somewhere like
the mountains of
Colorado
where we'll build a
log cabin right next to
our own peak
while the snow falls, the sun
rises
and the television set's
blue glow flows on
we'll sing
all day long
and in the evening
keep each other warm.
douglas brent smith
-------------
Note:
When I wrote this, possibly in 1975, I had no idea that I would actually some day live in Colorado. Life can be funny like that. It wasn't in a log cabin, and it wasn't with the lover in this poem, but there was an interesting symmetry to the adventure.
After Escher's Stairway
Hands Up
The cover to Journal #8
Study for the set design to The Great Brain Robbery, a play
Sketch of Annie, 1975
Tower Sketch
The Pilot Was Surprised
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
Study for the set design for "The Mysteries of Love" by douglas brent smith
So far, this play has not been written.
that valentine's day
i sent flowers to
two people was not
the first time even though
it carried more drama and
it was not because i
could not decide but because i
did not feel the need to
love either any less but because you
did not see it that way
once discovered it
did not turn out quite as i
expected
are you still angry?
douglas brent smith
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
sometimes by chance
by luck or by design
we find real people
moving along matching lines
cruise to connecting music
smile at marvelous magic
sometimes we stumble
onto a carnival of dreams
so mellow and alive
so easy and free
yes, sometimes we wander with love
waiting eagerly
douglas brent smith
that sudden electricity
which you so innocently offered
without pretense or guilt
(a day we both remember)
then, carefully
took away
reverberates within that part
of us that we cannot control
and
returns with dreams veiled over
and keeps a steady hold
if by some chance you choose to chase
another's amorous embrace
remember there're no secrets now
i see it in your face
you know i'll never force a smile
or make it something new
but if my love is not enough
it's still my gift to you.
douglas brent smith
Drawing: Top Hat Journey, by douglas brent smith
from Journal #7, The Eclectic Trance Dance, 1974