sketch from journal #12, never doubt, 1978.
This is a drawing of Peter Hoff (now known as Zeke Peterhoff, and me, wearing our Mustard Seed Theatre Company T-shirts and apparently juggling with our minds.
Good times.
and the radio played
sunlight shimmers in
her eyes her
breasts dance with
each tiny breath
whispering
my name
-- doug smith
Making Ends Meet
Notes:
It was a lean time, surviving on peanut butter, pasta, and soup and enjoying the freedom that a wide-open schedule provided where even at work I could draw, write, compose. Ah, but I was young and my sense of humor perhaps more crude than good and cartoons like this resulted.
It's silly, but there it is.
caught
if you catch me
counting stars
some night
when i should be
gazing into your eyes
or if a tear drop
forms when we
should be
celebrating
chalk it up
to mystery
or a muse chasing
escaping vibrations
but never blame your
self and never doubt
our love.
-- douglas brent smith
Mysterious Towers
Notes:
I remember as a child being fascinating by the concept of Figures in text books. Illustrations were often labeled Figure 1, Figure 2, etc. I wondered, "why don't they just print the title of the picture?" but never found out.
In fun and tribute, I named this doodle Figure 1. It appears in journal #12, never doubt, 1978.
the gold standard
someone found sparkly yellow
stuff, indifferent deep in the ground
wet in pebbles too thick to drink
too heavy for wheels
small quantities scattered
"let's make it money"
they said "because it's so pretty..."
now everybody wants what was
in fort knox as if
every heavy clunk of gold
held a genie inside
with three wishes for riches
and what do you
do with them
but
wish for more gold
-- douglas brent smith
chords
can you still feel my cords? she
said often after the heat had subsided
and we were nearing sleep
at first i said yes, even though
i had no idea where they were
or if they still were
but like so many other lessons
from you i learned
after learning every square lovely
inch of your warm body
where your chords were
cords
there were other chords, also: lines
from your soul to mine
gullible at your will
veins
mixing sunbursts with rain
notes from my guitar, chords
calling your name
after long walks with puppy dog
after altercations over where
each or both of us would live (tell me)
can you still feel my chords
a thousand miles away?
-- douglas brent smith
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