Reduction in Frequency, sketch by douglas brent smith, 1979
the nowhere machine strikes gold
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
the point on the edge that turns
when it isn't enough to be weird
when it isn't enough to be funny
reality gathering speed
pleads for shelter and just enough money
when the middle class values scream what!
ever happened to all that we've got?
the air in the chamber starts moving
in sounds that the masses can hear
so the forces of wealth weave and hide
oblivious to working day pride
until with a shock wave a change
the power is all re-arranged
don't grab it or stab it, remain
the journey discovering new plains
the mountains are there for the climbing
and the essence is all in the timing.
-- douglas brent smith
with the flow
in form not constant
higher planes
people versus civilization
drains
knowledge so much
wasted rain
seeping with the tide away
in visage not former
outer ken
struggles heaped on burdens when
awareness
flashes now and then
ghostlike disappearing
end.
-- douglas brent smith
locker room
are you looking for secrets?
shortcuts and delight?
perhaps someone's questions
whose answers are right?
is the sport in the victory
but not in defeat?
or does struggle with strength
in itself seem complete?
when the game hits conclusion
and one side has won
does your playing with passion
surrender to fun?
let's gather again
when the tournament ends.
-- douglas brent smith
clown show
do you think the hoops'll play?
no, we'd better go with fire
they just eat it up when i swallow
the flame bit
but it's too windy we might
set each other on fire (how's that
for a big finish?) no,
the balls, we'll do the juggling steals
maybe some magic (slight of
hand) hey!
did you bring the accordion?
the guitars will never carry in this wind
and yes it's cold but
we're down to our last dollar and
Quick! here comes some kids
put on the big red shoes
we are on!
-- douglas brent smith
NOTES:
- When Peter and I did these types of shows (not sure if this one was sponsored or if we were busking) our hair (yes, we once had hair!) was so long that catching on fire was a legitimate concern. At times, we could smell hair burning.
- The hoops that we used were hand-made by Peter and covered in cloth tape. They were not completely round.
- If we had more money in our pockets then maybe we could have put fresh strings on our guitars so that they would resonate louder, even in the wind.
over cards
there must have been three
or four reasons why
the cards in your hand shook
waiting on the meld
smoke swirling around your lip
(swollen from the mouthpiece
of a stubborn trumpet) sky writing
secret indecipherable signals
playing your hand against your partner's
lack of bullets
"nothing but clothes" you said
a handful of jacks and queens
powerless in the endgame of tricks
but that's not what you were
thinking of i could tell
with the gin nearly empty
and the ashtray full of roaches
some sweet lucid larceny was taking place
and for a moment eyes meeting eyes
you pick-pocketed a parcel of
unsung refrains from within me
and never cracked a smile.
-- douglas brent smith
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