Sketch by douglas brent smith
song of the night
deep in the night
all the joy here beside you
feeling our spirits
rise and converge
deep in the night
with the dance of holding
folding our arms
and our hearts as one
deep in the night
our darkness behind us
the new secrets find us
full and alive
deep in the night
as i turn to kiss you
your eyes shine those signs
of friendship and love.
-- douglas brent smith
with you
always at the right moment
you know
a smile, a touch, a spontaneous poem
and all the lights now happy midnight
bright joys come soaring
from you to me as we
fly wing on wing
with our promise of love our
tender desire our
strength of growing
now and until all the candles
flicker out i will hold this flame
with you.
-- douglas brent smith
Mustard Seed Theatre Company Logos
Notes:
Peter, Harry, and I started a little touring theatre company we called the Mustard Seed Theatre Company. We had very limited success for an all too brief amount of time. I later revived the name at churches in Chicago, and I'm sure that any search would uncover other theatre companies bearing that name, but we loved it while we proudly wore it on our t-shirts.
These sketches are modest attempts at logos. circa 1977-1978
vacancy
flame fast upon the styro
foam underbelly of the
rapidly freezing uncooperative ozone
(don't let it rain daddy)
the
initial waves hurt only a few
misguided wild winking creatures
grazing mesmerized by the new sun
by the endless summer
by the quick
(what about the cat daddy?)
some say the continents shifted
tectonic shifts wrecking slumber
impact by the billions or so
psychogestalt screams of urgently
weeping innocents
(how much water do we have daddy?)
the parthenon stood the eiffel blinked
hancock shuddered general motors flinched
but all carefully in place unharmed unscarred
(daddy what's wrong?)
noah gasped christ wept and music
cloned recklessly moaned recognizable melodies
endgame moved into place bartered out
castled and kinged winged flashing
vacancy
vacancy...vacancy...
(oh daddy it hurts)
mimes muttered clowns frowned the whole
broken circus city state
tumbled down
cavernous cravings mist hot twisted
vacancy
sensate symbiotic ruptures
seven dragons seven angels seven
remaining wonders / blunders
vacancy
(oh god daddy i can't breathe!)
-- douglas brent smith
What Is Real?
What Is Real? sketch by douglas brent smith, (1977)
Notes:
Cece and I used to play a word game we called "What Is Real?" The idea was that we were all living in a movie, or simulation, or game, and only some of us and some things are real. It seemed a bit advanced for 1977 but I was reading a lot of science fiction at the time and Cece has always had a very open, very curious, very creative mind. It was fun.
We'd also draw pictures, sometimes using a surrealist technique known as "exquisite corpse" where you each draw half of the picture, without seeing what the other person has drawn. The paper is folded in half with a couple of lines visible on both halves to show you where to connect the pictures. It was also fun.
These sketches are just doodles from one of my journals.
auto nuts
some folks have no business
inside an automobile
they drive like crazy demons
flaming nuts behind the wheel
they brake too soon
and turn too late
to tease the highway
horror fate
and one day after nine to five
they'll crush another once alive
a crash at eighty painfully
let's hope it's neither you or me.
-- douglas brent smith
softly
oh
the adventure
of each evening
easing softly
into your arms
feeling gently
the warmth
you offer
the touch and kiss
of loving
the cool sweet
comfort of
trusting
openly (such
open) wings
taking flight
soaring with
splendor in bliss-
filled union
oh
the pleasure
of each passion
easing softly
into you.
-- douglas brent smith
paradise lane
quickly spent all my money
at a bar on paradise lane
slipping jacks and kings to Fack
drinking gin to ease the pain
a redhead at the jukebox
tossed a glance and smile at me
but my libido was incognito
and my head was out to sea
four sheets to the wind
dreaming other people's sins
and counting on my quarters
all the places that i'd been
my hat's my only date tonight
my buddy's got the bucks
i've got a sweetheart in Chicago
who i'm counting on for luck
but it's long past midnight and i'm officially flagged
drinking shots and eating slices of that cheese tomato pie.
-- douglas brent smith
the cult
she went to college to earn her degree
but midway thru was convinced to run free
some search from within for better results
landed her awkwardly inside a cult
now she's selling flowers to the cars at the light
her parents convinced that her choice wasn't right
like a zombie stone-faced tied to the cause
the mission requires she side-step the law
there must be a dozen or more deep inside
armed and well drilled they are ready to fight
the blockade does not even phase them a bit
they shout to the masses that they will never quit
two dozen people on one long lost trip
grappling for reason and feeling it slip
outgunned and outnumbered they were all apprehended
the planned revolution was thoroughly ended.
-- douglas brent smith
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
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