your soft kisses danced
across my face
your agile fingers
found my heart
stars and planets shuddered
underneath
the stark, darkness hinted
with each breath
your eyes with tiny tears
smile up at me
pleading, asking
begging (gleefully)
though your voice
said firmly
"no."
douglas brent smith
precisely because
i can not tame you
or hold you to promises
you'll never keep
for the fumbling from friction
and tension weeping in the night
wondering where you are
incredibly over the constant
terrors you touch me with
a velvet glove over fondness lost
losing with the lies from eyes once true
now gazing on weakness
crushed under your strength
i wonder why i
want you more than before.
douglas brent smith
"Find the way to your own creativity and everything else becomes better."
-- doug smith
Can you tell when you're holding back? Or, are your senses dulled when things get dull and the sparkling shine fades away?
Creativity can act like water: sometimes we need to prime the pump to get it flowing. Let it flow. Move it forward. There will be surprises. There will be storms. I really do believe that the best thing you will ever create has not yet been created. It awaits your initiative, your verve, your motion.
You can't help but be creative -- no need to hold back.
-- doug smith
"One brilliantly creative idea a day is all that it takes, to undo a hundred thoughtless mistakes."
-- doug smith
thru five years
we've danced daringly with many
diverse partners
crept thru bedroom windows of
a few starched spirits
and spilled a few
tears of our own
after five years
kids become searching adults,
your face remains soft and warm
and my hands remain calloused but curious
(a learning, yearning, burning process
breathing Spring,
simmering Summer
fearless Fall)
in five years
it appears:
some dreams last longer than others
and life's road turns faster with eyes open
as it rolls on revealing (with a
wink) that some cycles and hearts
remain synchronized, and that dance steps
echo softly and that i love you still.
douglas brent smith
pacing thru the time tripped delicately on
edges of faceless fancies freed from the
rushing resentment of relentless realities
battering upon a daring door of dancing
chances taken and rebuttals received
answers mistaken and desire deceived.
douglas brent smith
Sketch: Cloud Posing as a Pipe, from journal #10, cry Wolf (1977) douglas brent smith
so what if
your hair style
is three years
ahead
of the trends
and you will
not regard fashion
because we are
above and
beyond all that
caught between
generations
and
secret dreams
"your mustache
tickles,"
she said.
-- doug smith
soaring up here
on a colombian
vacation
looking up to
find you
straight ahead
looking down
eyes narrow
ears open
for sounds
lending a touch
of thin
but absolute
meaning
strong enough to
stand
wearing someone
else's
shirt.
douglas brent smith
Note:
My dad smoked a pipe for years. He favored two flavors of tobacco , one was Old Hickory and the other I do not remember. It's a filthy habit of course but I did enjoy the smell and he did seem so peaceful whenever he had a pipe in his mouth. It was no good for his teeth of course, which he lost and wore dentures for years but that was also probably because of the gallons of heavily sugared iced tea that he drank.
We all drank too much iced tea.
I haven't been to Alaska yet as of this date but it is one of only three states that I have not been to, the others being Hawaii and Montana. Funny, two of them were not states when I was born -- as I often say "that's how OLD I am..."
I did contemplate traveling to work the Alaskan pipe line -- the actual oil line and not the cartoon -- but correctly determined that it was all probably too rugged for me. Life certainly would have changed in a different path, even I'd even survived.
Any way -- that's my silly cartoon.
-- doug smith
she held back her tears
as she told me the reason
she just could not hold me tonight
"i'm in need of a doctor
who does not ask questions
can you tell me a place to go?
and my body is trembling
from a night past remembering
and i don't want the family to know
"why does it happen it's my cross to bear?
i hear thru your silence -- you weren't even there
but i do need some help some how
"i know it's not unusual
it happens all the time
but it's so devastating
when the choice is mine..."
she refused to cry
as she ended the call
"i will find a way
to overcome it all..."
and never spoke of this again.
douglas brent smith
universal bang it was a universal bang
it was a universal bang it was
a big bang
got to thinking about the nature of existance
and with a certain degree of persistence
i proceeded to untangle all the angles
that approach us
from the cosmic cloud encroaching us
all leading to the theory
that a weary sort of human
needs awakening acumen
to make sense of any reasoning
and weather all the seasoning
that's bound to blow right thru you
no matter what you do you
come up a little short and then
it slips right thru your hands again
it hasn't changed much to the aliens
deciding if we're enemies or friends
still hoping that we finally get the joke
universal bank it was a universal bang
it was a universal bang it was
a big bang.
douglas brent smith
Note:
from journal #10, cry Wolf (1977)
here and gone and
here again the most
peculiar fleeing friend
you stay you go you
tell me so i know
it's sure it's what you name
it's all in how you play the game
but oh i wait here for your kiss
there's something that you should not miss:
cry wolf my
dear
and see what shows
the wolf
will
come
and i
will go.
douglas brent smith