a message received
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 brought you near
(no to the prom two years in a row)
(isn't two years in high school an eternity?)
my projects framed, posed, presented to
bring you flattered flustered and favoring
blissfully to a place we would share
there
(touched by inspiration, moved
by spirit, aching longingly)
i stood in the front of the class:
everyone knew. teacher knew. debra knew.
david, carole, glenn knew. leslie, laurie, barb
knew and
you knew.
as i read the poems to you
e.e.cummings all pointed all obvious all
wishing (no!) kissing toward you
dramatically framed i saw too late
a mistake, in your derision in your
freeze
oh, the face you made.
you hung your head a little as
i spoke in verse of hearts and
little voices and dreams and rain and
beggars and visions and
intricate ladies of poet's love, my love
to you (no, gasp, toward you) i hope for
the best and watch it
fall
and when finished, papers put away
you...you...you...looked right at me.
sharp totally focused sweet beautiful
blue eyes looked right into mine.
with...with...with seething hatred
a pressure point anger overflowing
oh!
all this time your stare stays clear
my worst miss a sting for this
it did not go as planned
if i could only say with the power to erase
i am so...i am so... i am so sorry.
NOTES:
Are all poems true stories? This one is. An artist can think that creativity will save them, raise them, influence others and make all things beautiful but...ah, but that is not always the case. This case was perhaps my first crushing disappointment at trying to reach someone (she knows who she is) thru poetry instead of maybe just initiating a conversation, a walk, a few moments to talk. Why was that so hard to do?
But I try to look at it this way now -- how bad could it have been, it gave you this poem?
-- doug smith
no surprise
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
morning details
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
Ever Have a Dog?
Ever have a dog that has passed on? If so, you miss that dog, don't you. Dogs are such wonderful creatures, such perfect examples of unconditional love.
I'm mostly a cat person, but of the few dogs who have shared parts of my life, I miss them all.
If you have a dog, give it some attention. Watch that tail wag with joy. Smile.
-- doug smith
Cavalier Club at Large
Cavalier Club at Large -- collage by douglas brent smith, 1995
From Journal #30, Operation Fresh Start, 1995.
NOTES:
I've owned (or co-owned) four Chevy Cavaliers and loved every single one. I've loved them so much that I even contemplated forming a Cavalier Club -- or maybe finding one that already existed. Such charming little cars. Basic, the last one I owned had wind-up windows. Fun to drive, a bit sporty without being too fast (can a car be too fast?).
My favorite was a blue 1987 station wagon version of a Cavalier. It had an old, permanent smell that was not at all unpleasant. I loved that car and commuting to work in Trevose in that car and it was named Bluebird. Sometimes I would sit in Bluebird and eat my lunch in the parking lot of UFLIC on Street Road.
I was recently in that parking lot again for a gig with CareerTrack and another for the college but I barely recognized the building or the lot because they had changed so much. Still, the vibes were good.
I always love my cars. I'll never have another Cavalier -- GM foolishly stopped manufacturing them (they keep discontinuing their best and most economical cars...) Pleasant memories.
That's a cavalier in the lower right hand corner of the collage.
-- doug
How Is All of this Possible?
How Is All of this Possible? -- collage by douglas brent smith, 1995. From the journal Operation Fresh Start, 1995.
Juggling Competing Priorities
Juggling Competing Priorities -- collage by douglas brent smith, 1995.
Thrown Away
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
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